<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187</id><updated>2011-11-07T07:39:44.425-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Information</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>165</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-5291474010901060731</id><published>2011-11-07T07:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T07:39:44.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Menu Monday, Again!</title><content type='html'>Sunday -&lt;a href="http://asmallsnippet.blogspot.com/2011/03/spicy-thai-noodles.html"&gt; Spicy Thai Noodles.&lt;/a&gt; I have been looking for a recipe that is similar to the Asian noodles they serve in The Fruit Center's salad bar. They are so good. These were pretty close, but something was missing. Pineapple juice maybe?&lt;br /&gt;Monday - &lt;a href="http://www.acouplecooks.com/2011/10/roasted-broccoli-and-sundried-tomato-penne/"&gt;Penne with Broccoli and Sun dried Tomatoes&lt;/a&gt;. Sounds yummy right? I am going to substitute nutritional yeast for the parmesan cheese. &lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - &lt;a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2010/08/simple-sesame-noodles/"&gt;Simple Sesame Noodles&lt;/a&gt;. Love Pioneer Woman. In my opinion, Peanut Noodles are yummier, but Joel likes these ones better.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Pizza Night&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Veggie Quesadillas&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Scalloped Potatoes with Eggplant Bacon. Again. It was yummy! It will be yummier this time because I can tweak a few things after trying it once. Also, I will plan better. Last time we didn't get to eat this until 9:30 pm. Oops.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-5291474010901060731?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/5291474010901060731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=5291474010901060731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5291474010901060731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5291474010901060731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-menu-monday-again.html' title='It&apos;s Menu Monday, Again!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7170225348550948759</id><published>2011-10-25T11:59:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T11:59:59.816-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Menu Monday on Tuesday</title><content type='html'>I was distracted by Wahlbergs yesterday so I did not get a chance to write out my menu for you. So, here it is today:&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Lentil Burgers. Same old, same old...but Joel loves 'em.&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Potato and Vegetable Curry from Simple Veg. Pleasures. All I have to say about this is&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; OMG. It. was. so. good. &amp;nbsp;Fairly simple and so flavorful. Joel was "meh" about it, but I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Had it for lunch today too.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Pizza night. We made the dough from scratch this time. Oliver is in charge tonight while I head&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;over to Wahlburgers with Cari for some girl time.&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Grilled Cheese, Fries and Edamame. Boring, but everyone eats it.&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Veggie Wraps. Quick and easy after a busy day with speech and OT.&lt;br /&gt;Friday -&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.theppk.com/2011/10/scalloped-potatoes-and-eggplant-bacon/"&gt;Scalloped Potatoes and Eggplant Bacon&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;This was too interesting not to try. The cream sauce is&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;made out of cashews. And eggplant bacon? Really? We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7170225348550948759?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7170225348550948759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7170225348550948759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7170225348550948759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7170225348550948759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/10/menu-monday-on-tuesday.html' title='Menu Monday on Tuesday'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6461550653785408890</id><published>2011-10-21T09:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T09:12:24.215-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Food Photos</title><content type='html'>We've been eating gooood this week. Here's a glimpse of some things we have had:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FYRDKHKWneg/TqF8occc6BI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/T5BT_1inSIE/s1600/IMG_2304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FYRDKHKWneg/TqF8occc6BI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/T5BT_1inSIE/s320/IMG_2304.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Brazilian Black Bean Soup with Vegan Cornbread. Admire the fancy plates!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rx4GjCza5Zo/TqF8yuE9WbI/AAAAAAAAAMY/jkBf2XGFpAA/s1600/IMG_2307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rx4GjCza5Zo/TqF8yuE9WbI/AAAAAAAAAMY/jkBf2XGFpAA/s320/IMG_2307.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ziti with cauliflower, tomato and red pepper. SO YUMMY! So Easy!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FD8Scs3DyY/TqF85tpybZI/AAAAAAAAANA/k2czVIU21zk/s1600/IMG_2312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3FD8Scs3DyY/TqF85tpybZI/AAAAAAAAANA/k2czVIU21zk/s320/IMG_2312.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;But, really, the yummiest, easiest thing I have eaten this week is this toast with peanut butter and nutella. Heavenly.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6461550653785408890?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6461550653785408890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6461550653785408890' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6461550653785408890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6461550653785408890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/10/some-food-photos.html' title='Some Food Photos'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FYRDKHKWneg/TqF8occc6BI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/T5BT_1inSIE/s72-c/IMG_2304.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4455575613404303695</id><published>2011-10-17T11:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T11:43:04.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Another Menu Monday</title><content type='html'>Ok, here it is:&lt;br /&gt;Sunday - Lentil burgers and mashed potatoes. Yummy, but very time consuming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - Veggie burritos with rice. Another staple in our house. I like the addition of the rice in the burrito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - Brazilian Black bean soup with vegan cornbread. &amp;nbsp;This soup is delicious! I have never made vegan cornbread before, so I will let you know how that goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Potato and Vegetable Curry. A first time with this recipe. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Ziti with Cauliflower, Tomato and hot pepper. I made this once before. It was simple and good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Baked Tofu and Mushroom Hoisin. Another first timer. I guess I am feeling daring this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not really sure what the kids will eat this week. I can tell you one thing for sure, they will not be eating any of this stuff!! &amp;nbsp;Maybe I will try to take pictures this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4455575613404303695?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4455575613404303695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4455575613404303695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4455575613404303695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4455575613404303695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/10/just-another-menu-monday.html' title='Just Another Menu Monday'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4309612491897053181</id><published>2011-10-03T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T20:41:05.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Menu Monday</title><content type='html'>Here's what we are serving at &lt;i&gt;Chez Bielawa&lt;/i&gt; this week:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Monday&lt;/b&gt; - Spicy Peanut Noodles from the Simple Vegetarian Pleasures cookbook. (Or, as I like to call it, Pleasuring Your Simple Vegetarian.) We LOVE this meal. It is simple and yummy. (And by we, I mean all of us except for Oliver who doesn't like much of anything. That is another post for another day.) These noodles are also delicious as leftovers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tuesday&lt;/b&gt; - Veggie Wraps. Looks like I may have to whip up some homemade tortillas for this meal since the 4 packages I bought yesterday are already almost gone! My boys love their tortillas! I bought real sour cream for my veggie wraps and I can't wait for the dairy goodness. This vegan thing is so not for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wednesday&lt;/b&gt; - Homemade Pizza. We still have some sauce leftover from last week's pizza which is a bonus. Oliver has become our pizza maker in the family. He loves to stretch out the dough and make individual pizzas with no sauce for himself and Morgan and a big pizza with sauce and "cheese" for Mom and Dad. I love that there is at least one meal that we can all enjoy together without stress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thursday&lt;/b&gt; - Grilled "cheese", &amp;nbsp;French fries and baked beans. I asked the kids to design their own flags today for school and Morgan put baked beans on hers. That is how much she loves them.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friday&lt;/b&gt; - Chickpea and Swiss Chard Soup. Also from Pleasuring Your Simple Vegetarian. Never made this before, so I will let you know. Joel tends to love all things chickpea, so I am hoping this soup is a hit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Saturday&lt;/b&gt; - Lentil Walnut Burgers. These have become a weekly staple for us. I got the recipe from the Moosewood cookbook. Joel LOVES these and it has been fun to add our own little touches here and there and experiment with different added veggies and spices. The only bad part about making these is that the kids do not like them and they are really time consuming. So, not only am I spending the time to make the burgers, but I also have to come up with something else for the kids to eat.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, that's what we're eating at our house. What are you eating at your house this week?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4309612491897053181?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4309612491897053181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4309612491897053181' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4309612491897053181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4309612491897053181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/10/menu-monday.html' title='Menu Monday'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4853569782944080597</id><published>2011-09-30T07:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-30T07:00:47.790-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Step One</title><content type='html'>Fabric has been purchased!! Now, if I could just find the time to sit down and get to work. I cannot wait to get started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MwWiXwiYj1I/ToWvYf-HypI/AAAAAAAAAMM/01BW1ipJxYw/s1600/IMG_2281.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MwWiXwiYj1I/ToWvYf-HypI/AAAAAAAAAMM/01BW1ipJxYw/s320/IMG_2281.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4853569782944080597?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4853569782944080597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4853569782944080597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4853569782944080597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4853569782944080597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/09/step-one.html' title='Step One'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MwWiXwiYj1I/ToWvYf-HypI/AAAAAAAAAMM/01BW1ipJxYw/s72-c/IMG_2281.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8059372341865619114</id><published>2011-09-27T19:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-27T20:03:37.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Later...</title><content type='html'>Funny how it is almost exactly one year since I last wrote on this Blog. I guess fall is my season for getting back into blogging. And winter is my season for forgetting that I even have a blog. &lt;div&gt;Instead of trying to recap the last year, I am going to treat this as an old friend and pick up right where we are as if no time has passed at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are my goals for this blog, if I can keep up with it. (I make no promises!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Menu Mondays - I have been doing really well at planning out our meals for the week and think it would be cool to share ideas and recipes here. All of our meals at home are vegan now and it has been fun and challenging to find new, exciting recipes. I like my food to be exciting, don't you? My kids on the other hand, they like their food to be exactly the same all the time. Oliver especially. He would eat a bagel with cream cheese for every meal if I let him. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Homeschool Updates - Year 2 of homeschool has been going really well. We are doing first grade curriculum and I am so proud of the progress they have made just 3 weeks in. We are doing more reading, with less stumbling and guessing, handwriting is improving and spelling is new this year. So far we are 3 for 3 with the spelling tests! We have already had a few days of just not being motivated (me and/or kids) but we have learned to press on in some cases and scrap it and do something else in other cases. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Saga of the Flower Girl Dresses - I will be making two flower girl dresses this month for my nephew's wedding in November. I am more than a little stressed over this. I am happy to do it, but feeling the time crunch and the pressure to not mess up. I will try to post updates and photos of the process. First item on the agenda: buy fabric.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Links to interesting things - like &lt;a href="http://www.chicagonow.com/mary-tyler-mom/2011/09/donnas-cancer-story-terminal"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; blog. This is a heart wrenching blog about a mom's battle with her little girl's terminal cancer. I heard about it from a friend on Facebook and looked it up last night and could not stop reading it. I kept telling myself not to read anymore because I know where it is going and do I really want to get that emotionally involved in this? But I could not stop. That poor child and that poor Mama to have to go through that. But, here she is a few years later able to write about her experience and, I am sure, to encourage other moms in her place. For me, it has made me spend a little more time thanking God for my healthy babies, a little more time snuggling with them first thing in the morning and just before bed and a little more time watching them sleep and marveling at the miracles that they are. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, join me on my journey to rediscover blogging. And if you see me, remind me to blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8059372341865619114?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8059372341865619114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8059372341865619114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8059372341865619114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8059372341865619114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2011/09/one-year-later.html' title='One Year Later...'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2702769636900572222</id><published>2010-09-28T07:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T07:22:59.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look What I Made!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TKHjga_tRxI/AAAAAAAAAL0/QGab5upnBmU/s1600/Trickortreatbags+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TKHjga_tRxI/AAAAAAAAAL0/QGab5upnBmU/s320/Trickortreatbags+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521944764274788114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TKHjgXOO0hI/AAAAAAAAALs/JDT7c_vFSQg/s1600/Trickortreatbags+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TKHjgXOO0hI/AAAAAAAAALs/JDT7c_vFSQg/s320/Trickortreatbags+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521944763261964818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As you may know, I am trying to start up my own little business of handmade crafts for kids. I've been making and selling I Spy Bags, aprons for kids, bean bags and today I finished some trick-or-treat bags. They came out really cute! Let's hope I sell some.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2702769636900572222?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2702769636900572222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2702769636900572222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2702769636900572222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2702769636900572222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2010/09/lok-what-i-made.html' title='Look What I Made!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TKHjga_tRxI/AAAAAAAAAL0/QGab5upnBmU/s72-c/Trickortreatbags+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2166448477314190827</id><published>2010-09-17T07:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T07:45:35.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Alarming</title><content type='html'>The fire alarm in our building went off at 10:30 last night.  I had gone to bed early and had been asleep for a while and Joel had literally just climbed into bed when the loud alarm and flashing lights started up. I immediately jumped out of bed and went into the kids' room to gather them up and bring them outside to safety. For, of course, there must be immediate danger of some sort if the the alarm is going off at this time of night. Joel, on the other hand, sits up in bed like "What is that?" He strolls into the kids' room, picks up Morgan and brings her into the living room to sit on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;Joel: "We don't really have to go outside, do we?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Um, yes, we need to get out."&lt;br /&gt;Joel: "Really?"&lt;br /&gt;I head out the door with Oliver in my arms and Joel goes in to get a shirt on.  Morgan starts to cry because she is still on the couch waiting for someone to carry her outside. Poor thing thought I was abandoning her inside. So, we all head out to sit in the car while we wait out the alarm. We were only outside for 15 minutes or so before the alarm turned off and we got the o.k. to head back in. Not sure what caused it to happen, but I am always glad that we got right out.  What if there really was a fire in the building? Granted, we are on the first floor and can scoot out of our patio door quickly if need be, but c'mon, who wants to be that person who is trapped inside a burning building? Not me!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it is just my complete inability to bend the rules. I'm sure we would have been fine to have sat on the couch, ready to leave if we had to, but I HAD to get those kids outside.  I was a bit concerned that Joel was so nonchalant about it. It's a fire alarm, for Pete's sake!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as Ma always says, "All's well that ends well." (Can you tell we've been reading Little House on the Prairie?) No fire, that I know of and everyone was fine. It took a while to get the little guys back to sleep, but once Oliver ended up camped out on our floor, it was fine.  I had to answer about 200 questions about the fire alarm and what if there was a real fire, and could we get a back-up house in case this one burns down...oh my.&lt;br /&gt;So, what are you like when the fire alarm goes off?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2166448477314190827?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2166448477314190827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2166448477314190827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2166448477314190827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2166448477314190827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2010/09/alarming.html' title='Alarming'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8128385478257225408</id><published>2010-09-13T06:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T06:47:30.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Good Cry</title><content type='html'>Sometimes you just need a good cry, you know? But, for a busy mom like me when do I get the chance to just let it all out? Well, for the past few weeks it has been during my only alone time in the car on the way to the grocery store. For a while we were doing our shopping all together as a family, (another tear inducing experience) but lately I have been just taking the list and going at it alone - which is much more enjoyable! But, as soon as I get in the car and put on the music, the tears start coming and they don't stop until I get to Whole Foods and pull myself together.  Then, once I am in the store and shopping I am fine.  It's like I need to just let it out and then I am good for another week. Am I weird? (Don't answer that!)&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my dad is getting married next month. Yes, I said next month, not next year. Why yes, that was quick.  How do I feel about it? That's a good question. I'm not really sure, myself. I am happy that my dad is not lonely and that he has someone to make him happy. I certainly would never wish for him to be lonely and miserable for the rest of his days.  It's just so hard to see him with someone who is not my mom. His "moving on" is the reminder to me of the finality of my mom being gone. She's really not coming back. (Which I know, intellectually - but when that reality hits you emotionally, it hurts.) I am trying to be happy for them and trying to deal with it like an adult, but part of me wants to just curl up on the floor tantrum-style and scream out, "I want my mommy!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8128385478257225408?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8128385478257225408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8128385478257225408' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8128385478257225408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8128385478257225408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2010/09/good-cry.html' title='A Good Cry'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6103261911932584105</id><published>2010-08-19T09:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T09:39:22.751-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go With The Flow</title><content type='html'>School only took an hour this morning. I feel slightly guilty about that, but I am trying to be ok with it.  We followed the plans for today. They even said their memory verse, practiced writing, did a science experiment, even did an extra pincer-grasp exercise with play-doh.  Now they are happily playing with the play-doh and I have a quiet few minutes to blog.&lt;br /&gt;It goes against my nature to not have things be uniform and take the allotted 2 hours. Every other day this week we have used the full 2 hours.  But, then I remind myself that this is kindergarten, not 10th grade and sometimes we just go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;I am pleased with how the first week has gone. Kids have been cooperative, for the most part, I have been excited and enthusiastic, for the most part. I'm sure we will have days where one or all of us just doesn't want anything to do with it. And on those days, I guess we will just go with the flow.&lt;br /&gt;As a side note, I have been reading Pioneer Woman's blog lately and I promise you I will never be as blog (or otherwise) talented as that woman is.  Just amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6103261911932584105?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6103261911932584105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6103261911932584105' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6103261911932584105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6103261911932584105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2010/08/go-with-flow.html' title='Go With The Flow'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7810120141495150425</id><published>2010-08-16T14:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T14:59:28.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 1: Success</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXkpBD8GI/AAAAAAAAALE/sVyA_bm3M4w/s1600/First+Day+of+School+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXkpBD8GI/AAAAAAAAALE/sVyA_bm3M4w/s320/First+Day+of+School+013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506098675178532962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;First day of homeschool was a success! Kids had fun and actually learned some things. Mom had fun and actually surprised herself at her ability to explain things. Like, using a flashlight and a Mickey Mouse Superball to explain how the earth spins on it's axis making day and night. They actually got it.&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXk9m5xUI/AAAAAAAAALM/sG7MA3xknpw/s1600/First+Day+of+School+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXk9m5xUI/AAAAAAAAALM/sG7MA3xknpw/s320/First+Day+of+School+014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506098680705959234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXlYClWQI/AAAAAAAAALU/9_OBpPQcDRE/s1600/First+Day+of+School+015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXlYClWQI/AAAAAAAAALU/9_OBpPQcDRE/s320/First+Day+of+School+015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506098687801383170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXltdRIfI/AAAAAAAAALc/2inW4kLG_Qs/s1600/First+Day+of+School+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXltdRIfI/AAAAAAAAALc/2inW4kLG_Qs/s320/First+Day+of+School+017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506098693550449138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had them walk out the front door and around the building and then back into the patio door to make a transition to school time. I was in my pjs when they left and quickly changed into my clothes while they were walking. They were quite amused as you can see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7810120141495150425?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7810120141495150425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7810120141495150425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7810120141495150425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7810120141495150425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2010/08/day-1-success.html' title='Day 1: Success'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/TGmXkpBD8GI/AAAAAAAAALE/sVyA_bm3M4w/s72-c/First+Day+of+School+013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-9223269722113274583</id><published>2010-08-16T07:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T07:22:38.095-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Start</title><content type='html'>Phew, it's been almost a year since I've been here. 'Scuse me while I clear up some of this dust and cobwebs. Oh, here's that earring I've been looking for.&lt;br /&gt;    Our family is starting a new journey today and I thought it would be a great opportunity to start up this old blog again. The Bielawa's are now home schoolers!  I am sure with my crazy little family we will have tons of blog worthy stories and I am sure I will need a place to rant, I mean share about my homeschooling, working, housekeeping, bread baking, sewing, etc.&lt;br /&gt;     Our plan for the day is to get the kids fed and dressed at 8:30 and ready to go at 9:00 at which point I will send them out the apartment door, down the hall, outside and around the building and back into our patio door while I rush to get dressed and get set up for school.  I think they are more excited about that than anything!&lt;br /&gt;So, keep an eye out for pictures and stories and I PROMISE I will be try to update this here blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-9223269722113274583?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/9223269722113274583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=9223269722113274583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/9223269722113274583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/9223269722113274583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2010/08/new-start.html' title='A New Start'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-952478058804420585</id><published>2009-09-09T06:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T06:30:14.191-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you Have a Good Summer?</title><content type='html'>No, actually, I didn't. That's what I want to say to all these parents and teachers who ask as we are starting school again. But, as with most people (myself included, unfortunately), they don't really have the desire to hear anything other than, "It was great. How about you?"  I guess parts of my summer were good, it wasn't all terrible, but for the most part it was the most difficult summer I have ever had. I experienced loss in many different ways, the most significant being the loss of my mom. I struggled with things I never thought I would have to deal with. I made a really great friend in my neighborhood...and then she moved.  Blah, blah, blah... So, yeah, it was a really bad summer. But, I know that God is faithful and that He is working in me and that someday I will be able to look back at this summer and see what He was doing and why.  The good parts of the summer? I was able to stay home with my kids and take care of two other sweet kids and spend lots of time doing fun things like going to the pool, beach, playground, farmer's market, etc.  I got a really good tan! I lost 10 lbs. (Granted, it was from stress and anxiety, but I'll take it!) So, there were some good times in there, too.&lt;br /&gt;School has started back up. My first day was yesterday and the kids' first day was today. They are both going to full day preschool three days a week. They were so excited. Oliver was excited to be the big brother and take care of Morgan and show her around. Morgan was excited to go, as long as she was with Ollie. She said to me this morning, "So, Mrs. Todd will like me. She will look at me and say 'That is not Morgan, that is a pretty princess."  I have to admit to shedding a few tears as they left. I am grateful for the time alone to actually complete a thought without being interrupted, but I will miss their little faces.  Here's what I would like to accomplish on the days they are at school: go to the gym, read my Bible, clean and organize the apartment, purge their toys, get dinners organized and prepared ahead of time, prepare my Sunday School lessons, work on planning for the Women's Banquet at church, sew. Obviously, I won't get to all of this today, but these are my goals for the year.  Hey, maybe I will even blog more often. &lt;br /&gt;The start of the school year always signifies a fresh start for me. So, here's to leaving the summer behind and starting afresh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-952478058804420585?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/952478058804420585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=952478058804420585' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/952478058804420585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/952478058804420585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/09/did-you-have-good-summer.html' title='Did you Have a Good Summer?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-5496782462542601409</id><published>2009-07-18T19:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T20:15:52.648-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sigh</title><content type='html'>What a busy, exhausting weekend. My mom passed away last week and we just finished up with all the services today. I can finally sit down alone and breathe.  Not sure I like the stillness that much, though. Now I am able to comprehend more of what went on. Seems like time has stood still since the moment we got the phone call last tuesday saying she was gone. It's hard to imagine that other things happened in the world during these last few days. Didn't everyone's world stop the moment she left it? I know mine did.  It's hard to condense all the feelings and experiences I have had in these last few days.  Ranging from fear and anger and deep sadness to peace and joy and pride.  I am so, so proud of my family. I loved that we were able to be together for our Family Dinner Night one more time, I love that we all turned right back around and went back as soon as we got the call that she was gone, I love that we toasted my mom with anisette (with the pastors, too!) , I love that we all cried and laughed and reminisced and cried some more together. I love that we can still tease my dad and laugh with him even in the hardest of times.  I am amazed, but not surprised that nearly 700 people came through at the wake. What a testimony to my mom and what a hardship for our feet! &lt;br /&gt;There are so many different aspects of our experience. How the kids handled it, how the adults handled it...so many stories and blessings. I don't even think I could recount them all. &lt;br /&gt;I am feeling so much peace about my mom's passing. She wasn't herself these past few months.  It wasn't how she wanted to live. She wanted to cook and play "garbage man" with my kids and read books to them and watch Bob the Builder with them. She wanted to go to church and then go out for breakfast at the Venetian. She wanted to go shopping with me at Kohl's and go to the kids' concerts and recitals.  I am so thankful that I know without a doubt that she is whole again. Someone at the wake said that after she got her hug from Jesus in Heaven, the first thing she asked was "Now, where's the kitchen? And, where are all the babies?"  Not sure how theologically sound this is, but I like to think of her up there making sauce for all the saints and rocking all the babies.  And, also seeking out Noah and getting the full story from him.&lt;br /&gt;But, along with the joy is also a deep sense of sadness. You see, my mom was my best friend, my confidant, my shopping buddy,  someone I knew would always be proud of me no matter what.   I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;need&lt;/span&gt; her.  How can I raise my kids without her?  How can my kids grow up without the love of Grammie, a love like no other?  I will do my best to uphold her memory and talk of her often - but it's not the same as the real thing.  I miss her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-5496782462542601409?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/5496782462542601409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=5496782462542601409' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5496782462542601409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5496782462542601409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/07/sigh.html' title='Sigh'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1134139686744457088</id><published>2009-07-02T18:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T18:39:08.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfort</title><content type='html'>Morgan fell asleep in my arms tonight. Can't remember the last time that has happened. But, I found it so soothing. I've been having a rough time lately - lots of junk going on (I'll get into that later.)- and tonight I was feeling especially down.  I was sitting here in front of the computer to turn my brain off for a while and she crawled up here next to me. I could tell she was tired because she was quiet. Usually she is asking questions, telling stories, just talking to hear herself talk.  So, I asked her if she wanted me to hold her. She climbed right up and snuggled right in. I think she was asleep in minutes.  I didn't want to put her down. She's so snuggly and warm and delicious. I rubbed her soft back, her silky hair until finally she shifted position and woke up a bit wanting to be more comfy in her bed.  I reluctantly brought her in and now I sit here alone.  But, I am so much calmer. It's amazing how that happens.  Thank you, God, for the treasure of my children; they are your greatest gift to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1134139686744457088?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1134139686744457088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1134139686744457088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1134139686744457088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1134139686744457088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/07/comfort.html' title='Comfort'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1329874084521071362</id><published>2009-06-11T09:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T09:46:52.481-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Sure I Can Contribute</title><content type='html'>Seen &lt;a href="http://www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;? Now this is a funny website. The captions are what make it so funny. Go back to the earlier entries, it's worth the time. I laughed out loud. Love the "permullet"!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1329874084521071362?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1329874084521071362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1329874084521071362' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1329874084521071362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1329874084521071362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/06/im-sure-i-can-contribute.html' title='I&apos;m Sure I Can Contribute'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4051911743619840865</id><published>2009-06-10T06:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T06:36:34.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Power of Target</title><content type='html'>Why is it that I can never go to Target without leaving with a bag full of things I don't really need but at the time feel like I can't live without? Apparently, I am not the only person with this issue. I put something about it on my Facebook status and got many, many comments. One person said it is like a drug, another that they call it the $100 store. It's SO true! (Though, I did keep it under the $100 mark yesterday) Maybe it is because some of the deals are so good, that you load up on good deals which turns into not a good deal. I went in yesterday with  two things to buy - swimmies for Morgan (because apparently she eats hers or something - this is pair number 3!) and a plastic bin for Oliver's &lt;a href="http://www.mightyworld.com/"&gt;Mighty World&lt;/a&gt; set (which happens to be the coolest toy sets ever. I like them better than Playmobil.) I left with swimmies for Morgan, a bin for Ollie, a skirt for myself, flip flops for Oliver (which means we will instantly find the other one that we lost), a bathing suit for each kid (because you can never have enough bathing suits with a pool), a fishing game for the pool (what good is a pool without pool toys?), nail polish remover, face wash, body wash, and pocket packs of tissues.  And I thought I was doing so well. I guess I have to realize that when it comes to Target I have NO self control. Well, I have SOME, I guess, I did say no to the flip flops for myself, a new bathing suit for myself, and a few other things. (Notice how it is all things for myself? Ever the martyr.)&lt;br /&gt;So, what's the deal with Target? Are they sending us subliminal messages in the Muzak? Are they drugging us? What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4051911743619840865?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4051911743619840865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4051911743619840865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4051911743619840865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4051911743619840865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/06/power-of-target.html' title='The Power of Target'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4561326073683956437</id><published>2009-06-04T07:45:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T08:02:57.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl Day</title><content type='html'>On Tuesdays and Thursdays this year, Morgan and I have been having "Girl Day" while Oliver goes to school. Some days we would do something special, just the two of us, and other days would be the regular routine at home, but with just the girls. We both loved having these days and Morgan would ask every time I was getting Ollie ready for school, "Is today gorl day?" This Tuesday was Oliver's last day of school, therefore our last girl day. Morgan will be in school with Oliver next year, so this may be our last girl day for a while.  I decided to take her out for a special day together. We started off with breakfast at Strawberry Fair restaraunt. Morgan had french toast and I had the usual corn bread french toast. Yummm.  We colored together and chatted and I answered her million questions. It was nice to have uninterrupted time with her. Then we went home and made plans for our next move. She really wanted to go to the pool, but it was cloudy and a bit windy, so we opted for a walk at &lt;a href="http://www.mass.gov/dcr/parks/metroboston/webb.htm"&gt;Webb Park&lt;/a&gt;. My favorite place of all time.  We brought our pails and shovels, but ended up walking the beach and collecting sea glass. She really got into it, squealing with delight each time she found a piece. Good thing there was alot there.&lt;br /&gt;From there we headed to Grammie's house so Emilee could babysit while I went to work.  What a fun day! Here are some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFJitJ1AI/AAAAAAAAAKk/nbmT8eD1F4E/s1600-h/June2009+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFJitJ1AI/AAAAAAAAAKk/nbmT8eD1F4E/s320/June2009+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343456250624070658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFJ-pzOoI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2Uqubx93Jos/s1600-h/June2009+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFJ-pzOoI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2Uqubx93Jos/s320/June2009+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343456258126199426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFujMuq8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/t9ARWz4RqDg/s1600-h/June2009+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFujMuq8I/AAAAAAAAAK8/t9ARWz4RqDg/s320/June2009+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343456886411668418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFKPSJloI/AAAAAAAAAK0/inaIaYhVxok/s1600-h/June2009+028.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 428px; height: 321px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFKPSJloI/AAAAAAAAAK0/inaIaYhVxok/s320/June2009+028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343456262590404226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4561326073683956437?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4561326073683956437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4561326073683956437' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4561326073683956437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4561326073683956437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/06/girl-day.html' title='Girl Day'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SifFJitJ1AI/AAAAAAAAAKk/nbmT8eD1F4E/s72-c/June2009+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7485690670033466051</id><published>2009-05-30T07:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T07:54:59.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Did It.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiEsfgQ0ZII/AAAAAAAAAKc/OnRceff1Zgg/s1600-h/May+2009+project+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiEsfgQ0ZII/AAAAAAAAAKc/OnRceff1Zgg/s320/May+2009+project+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341599552786162818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I can't stop! Yesterday, I made two I Spy Bags and now I am obsessed! The possibilities are endless. And, they are rather simple so I can crank them out in a short time. I am thinking of all the different ways these could be made. Thematic ones with fabric and doo-dads that coordinate, wallet-sized ones with a key ring attached so they can be hooked onto a back pack or travel bag, my mind is reeling with possibilities.   These are so going to be my trademark birthday gifts now. Love them.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiErYzyzssI/AAAAAAAAAKM/d0yO6vrRKxA/s1600-h/May+2009+project+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiErYzyzssI/AAAAAAAAAKM/d0yO6vrRKxA/s320/May+2009+project+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341598338258285250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiErZJuuW3I/AAAAAAAAAKU/DzMtgerh8h4/s1600-h/May+2009+project+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiErZJuuW3I/AAAAAAAAAKU/DzMtgerh8h4/s320/May+2009+project+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341598344146738034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiErYYMK2hI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/zRldrIlvtIM/s1600-h/May+2009+project+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiErYYMK2hI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/zRldrIlvtIM/s320/May+2009+project+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341598330848467474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7485690670033466051?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7485690670033466051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7485690670033466051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7485690670033466051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7485690670033466051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-did-it.html' title='I Did It.'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SiEsfgQ0ZII/AAAAAAAAAKc/OnRceff1Zgg/s72-c/May+2009+project+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-3371411115343231163</id><published>2009-05-28T07:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T07:05:33.771-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Next Prooject</title><content type='html'>I've decided that I just HAVE to make time for more sewing projects.  I read Sarah's blog and all the blogs she links to with envy. I am just dying to make things. Time has been hard to come by around here, though. But, I saw &lt;a href="http://rosie-baby-crafty.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-spy-bags.html"&gt;these&lt;/a&gt; on one of Sarah's links and now I am dying to make one. What a cool gift idea. We made something similar at work with rice and a plastic bottle, but the bags are just adorable. Maybe these will be my new trademark birthday gifts.&lt;br /&gt;Only a few more weeks of school left for me and one more week for Oliver, so things may slow down a bit. I'll be babysitting this summer so maybe I can incorporate sewing projects into each week! (Who am I kidding...I'll be at the pool every day!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-3371411115343231163?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/3371411115343231163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=3371411115343231163' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3371411115343231163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3371411115343231163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-next-prooject.html' title='My Next Prooject'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6583982435565438217</id><published>2009-05-05T20:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T20:37:09.727-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cuteness</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joel/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Joel/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-3.jpg" alt="" /&gt;Watch out, you may not be able to stop watching &lt;a href="http://www.stephanieolsen.com/showit/clients/olivermorgan/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. I could watch it all day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6583982435565438217?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6583982435565438217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6583982435565438217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6583982435565438217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6583982435565438217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/05/cuteness.html' title='Cuteness'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-805509654185292100</id><published>2009-04-24T09:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T09:32:36.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Statue of Liberty</title><content type='html'>I had a great conversation with Oliver today.&lt;br /&gt;O: Mommy,what does liberty mean?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: It means freedom.&lt;br /&gt;O: What does freedom mean?&lt;br /&gt;M: It means that you get to make your own choices about things.  In some countries the president tells people what they should do, like where to go to church and where to live, but in our country we get to make our own choices.&lt;br /&gt;O: (brief pause) Then why don't we get to choose our own seat at a restaurant?&lt;br /&gt;Love this kid!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-805509654185292100?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/805509654185292100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=805509654185292100' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/805509654185292100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/805509654185292100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/04/statue-of-liberty.html' title='Statue of Liberty'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8723010262629649894</id><published>2009-04-23T12:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T12:56:56.501-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Clean. Entertain. Rinse. Repeat</title><content type='html'>This has been a week of cleaning and entertaining at our place and I LOVE it! I really like entertaining and had been frustrated by our lack of space at the old apartment. Now we have the space and I can enjoy having company again. Tuesday was Oliver's birthday. My little boy is four. We had his party over in the resident lounge. It was so much fun! It rained, but it still worked out fine. Thank goodness for my sister the teacher who helped fill in the time gaps with fun games. Then, Tuesday night we had Family Dinner Night at our place. I must say, it was a success. We had make-your-own grilled cheese. I bought a variety of cheeses and breads and bacon and ham and tomatoes. Everyone got to build their own sandwiches and then I cooked them up. Add some french fries and chips and pickles and it was a great meal!  So, Wednesday we regrouped from the party and dinner and cleaned up again to get ready for having my small group friends over from Mom's Together. (We also enjoyed a visit from Jennifer Wed. night who decided to stay for pizza!)  Four women (and 7 kids!) came over for brunch. It was nice to chat and watch the kids play and not feel rushed to go to work.  So, now I go to clean again! No more company planned for a while, I think. Though, I do love the thought that we are able to have impromptu guests without having to worry about what the apt. looks like.&lt;br /&gt;I think today I will  switch out the winter clothes and bring out the shorts. Weather man says 80 degrees this weekend!  Woo hoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8723010262629649894?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8723010262629649894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8723010262629649894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8723010262629649894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8723010262629649894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/04/clean-entertain-rinse-repeat.html' title='Clean. Entertain. Rinse. Repeat'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8003641458795019677</id><published>2009-04-12T19:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T17:17:28.458-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Curl</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SepRNDPECtI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/BgHCcgReuj4/s1600-h/Morgancurl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 230px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SepRNDPECtI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/BgHCcgReuj4/s320/Morgancurl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326158793967667922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SeKHqhd3xQI/AAAAAAAAAJs/85iUS69RsnY/s1600-h/april+2009+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SeKHqhd3xQI/AAAAAAAAAJs/85iUS69RsnY/s320/april+2009+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323966874113262850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morgan has always had this funny curl in her hair.  When she was little I used to think it was a Cheerio stuck in her hair because it was so blonde and so perfectly round.  Now that her hair is longer, it is still very blonde, but it is a spot of frizzy curl. The rest of her hair is shiny and just curly at the ends, except for this one piece.  I love it. It is such a good description of my girl. To most people she is a quiet, sweet little girl. But every so often, mostly at home, she has a streak of spunk and wildness. I hope she always keeps this. The curl and the spunk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8003641458795019677?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8003641458795019677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8003641458795019677' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8003641458795019677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8003641458795019677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/04/funny-curl.html' title='Funny Curl'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SepRNDPECtI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/BgHCcgReuj4/s72-c/Morgancurl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6849200764161646715</id><published>2009-04-03T10:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T10:40:36.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bone...errrrr....</title><content type='html'>Sometimes my kids say the funniest things that also happen to be completely inappropriate, but in their case also completely innocent. This morning I woke up to one of these occasions and laughed until I cried. What a way to wake up. Ok, here goes:&lt;br /&gt;Oliver is very into anything that has to do with going to the doctor, x-rays, body parts, surgery, etc.  So this morning while he is laying in bed with me, he says with astonishment in his voice, "Mommy, I found a bone in my pee-pee!"  Now we all know that sometimes boys wake up with a little, umm, shall we say happiness and I can only assume this was the case this morning.  He continued on to tell me that he will have to look up on his computer what that bone is called. At this point I was still half-asleep so I was just mumbling, "Uh-huh, ok" But then after I processed what he was saying, I had him tell Daddy all about this new bone that he found. So he says, "Daddy, I had my hands in my underwear this morning and I found a bone in my pee-pee!!" Joel was trying so hard not to laugh, but me, on the other hand, I was laughing and crying and snorting uncontrollably.  Thankfully, Oliver was quickly distracted by his other bones, like his ribs and legs, etc. but wow was that funny. What do you think, too embarrassing for his baby book?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6849200764161646715?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6849200764161646715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6849200764161646715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6849200764161646715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6849200764161646715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/04/boneerrrrr.html' title='Bone...errrrr....'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7388230549338000393</id><published>2009-03-23T08:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T08:43:26.546-05:00</updated><title type='text'>An Interview with Ollie and Morgan</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I saw this interview on So the Fish Said and thought it was cute. Here are my kids' answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. What is something mommy always says to you?&lt;br /&gt;O: Bambi                    M: No!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;2. What makes mommy happy?&lt;br /&gt;O: When I walk Chloe (the dog we were dog sitting)  M: Play with my buttons&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;3. What makes mommy sad?&lt;br /&gt;O:When we don't kiss you when you want us to   M: When I go under the table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;4. How does your mommy make you laugh?&lt;br /&gt;O: When you jump    M: When you get afraid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;5. What did your mommy like to do when she was a child?&lt;br /&gt;O: She liked to be naughty.  M: Be naughty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;6. How old is your mommy ?&lt;br /&gt;O: I don't know.   M:I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;7. How tall is your mommy ?&lt;br /&gt;O: 1...2..3...4...5...inches.  M: Super neat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;8. What is her favorite thing to watch on TV?&lt;br /&gt;O: M:(in unison) Bob the Builder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;9. What does your mommy do when you're not around?&lt;br /&gt;O: Have girl day with MoMo (morgan)  M: Look for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;10. If your mommy becomes famous, what will it be for?&lt;br /&gt;O: I don't know what famous means. Tell me what famous means and then I will tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;11. What is your mommy really good at?&lt;br /&gt;O: Watching CSI&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: Catching germs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;12. What is your mommy not very good at?&lt;br /&gt;O: Not liking us.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: Catching flowers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;13. What does your mommy do for her job?&lt;br /&gt;O: After-care work&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: Spank me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;14. What is your mommy 's favorite food?&lt;br /&gt;O: Cheddar Cheese, actually pizza&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: Pizza&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;15. What makes you proud of your mommy?&lt;br /&gt;O: When you try new things.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: Go potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;16. If your mommy were a cartoon character, who would she be?&lt;br /&gt;O: I don't know, Winnie-the-pooh? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: A cooker man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;17. What do you and your mommy do together?&lt;br /&gt;O: We bam.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: Play daddy's guitar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;18. How are you and your mommy the same?&lt;br /&gt;O: When we wear the same things.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: We don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;19. How are you and your mommy different?&lt;br /&gt; O: When we not wear the same clothes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M: No answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;20. How do you know your mommy loves you?&lt;br /&gt;O: When you hug me and kiss me and go in time out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;M:Hug and kiss you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;21. What does your mommy like most about your daddy?&lt;br /&gt;O: I don't know.  M: Love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;22. Where is your mommy 's favorite place to go?&lt;br /&gt;O: The Venetian (restaurant)  M: To the museum&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7388230549338000393?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7388230549338000393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7388230549338000393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7388230549338000393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7388230549338000393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/03/interview-with-ollie-and-morgan.html' title='An Interview with Ollie and Morgan'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-791223468620223494</id><published>2009-03-06T22:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T22:30:58.501-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Time</title><content type='html'>I feel like I have been doing really well with dealing with the onslaught if gray hairs on my head. Telling myself that it doesn't matter, etc. But lately I've been toying with the idea of coloring it again. Maybe because my birthday is coming up, maybe just because I need a haircut and am unhappy with my hair anyway, I don't know. BUT, today, someone referred to me as "that lady with the gray hair."  I think I might be making a visit to CVS to pick up some hair dye this weekend.  (Don't worry Sarah, I'll skip the Natural Instincts!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-791223468620223494?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/791223468620223494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=791223468620223494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/791223468620223494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/791223468620223494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/03/its-time.html' title='It&apos;s Time'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6147829153270548714</id><published>2009-03-01T19:17:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T19:38:16.065-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just One Bite</title><content type='html'>We've been trying to get Oliver to try some new foods lately. He has a pretty limited repertoire of meals: toast with butter, toast with cream cheese, cinnamon toast, toast with jelly, loaded toast - a combo of some or all of the above,  bagels, chicken nuggets, apples, applesauce, grilled cheese, cheese sticks, cheddar cheese, pretzels with ranch dressing or yogurt. None of the typical kid food like pasta or pizza. Occasionally I can get him to eat chicken with barbecue sauce. So, anyway, we've decided that it is time to really start pushing him to try some new things. We made a sticker chart and decided he could earn a new computer game with trying just three new things.  At first he was enthusiastic, even naming the things he could try, but when push comes to shove he doesn't want to do it. He even decided that he doesn't want that computer game after all.  So now what? We have no leverage, he has no motivation.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I made macaroni and cheese and Joel and I decided to have him try one bite before he could leave the table. The little stinker sat there for about 40 minutes with no bite!! There were tears and pouts and negotiations, but no bite. So, we stuck to our guns and told him he could go strait to bed from the table, with no book time.  I thought for sure missing book time would be the clincher, but he held out. He went from the table to the bathroom to brush his teeth and go potty, and then to his room to get jammies on and get in his bed. (Thank goodness it wasn't too early!) I gave him some books to look at by himself while I took Morgan to have book time in my bed. Seemed to him to be a worthy sacrifice so as to avoid the mac and cheese. It didn't seem to bother him all that much after the fact since before he went to sleep he said "I like you. You're my favorite Mommy in the whole world."&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...so now what? Do we continue this routine until he tries something new? Anyone have any good strategies for getting kids to try things?  Do I just let it go and serve the kid toast for the rest of his life?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6147829153270548714?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6147829153270548714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6147829153270548714' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6147829153270548714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6147829153270548714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-one-bite.html' title='Just One Bite'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7365651624868847108</id><published>2009-02-23T21:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T21:30:50.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Restful Vacation</title><content type='html'>School vacation came and went without too much excitement. I really enjoyed being home and not feeling the pressure of having to leave for work in the afternoon.  I spent one day just cooking some new vegetarian dishes to stick in the freezer. I made Cauliflower Cheese Pie and Lentil-Walnut Burgers. Both tasted much better than they sound.  I was so proud of myself. Had a girls' night with Jennifer and watched "Secret Life of Bees" and ate DELICIOUS pizza from Upper Crust. Then, I got a yucky cold which left me useless for Thursday. But, I was glad to not have to get up and go to work. I was able to rest and get better.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday I went with my sister and the kids to visit my niece at Gordon College. It has been 10 years and I STILL get that longing to go back to college when I am on that campus. Just being in her dorm and walking through the quad and hearing her say hi to everyone and point everyone out was so fun. College life was just the best.  I can't believe my 10 year reunion is coming up. Has it really been that long? I am so looking forward to going back out to Wheaton and seeing all my friends. I am thinking that the campus has probably changed alot. Will I be sad to return to a Wheaton that is not the same? Maybe.  Right now I am really looking forward to it.&lt;br /&gt;So, now it is back to work. I'm hoping that spring is going to come soon. I can't wait to air out the apartment and get rid of all these germs!  We've had a rough winter. My pediatrician is livin' large thanks to the Bielawas this winter.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I'm reading a book called "A Severe Mercy" right now and it is really good. It's about this couple that met and fell in love before they were Christians and then went to Oxford and became Christians there and then eventually the wife gets sick and dies. That's as far as I am now, but it is a really interesting book. Especially for me, as I have been a Christian for as long as I remember. I always wonder how people come to Christ in adulthood - it is such a leap of faith.  I'm anxious to see how the author's realtionship with God changed after he lost his beloved wife. He was struggling before with it. Does it get stronger or fade without her encouragement? I guess I will just have to let you know. Over and Out.&lt;br /&gt;(That's how Oliver has been ending conversations lately. Either that or Amen. ie. "Mommy, I would like a drink. Amen."or "Mommy, I am going potty. Over and out.")&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7365651624868847108?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7365651624868847108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7365651624868847108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7365651624868847108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7365651624868847108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/02/restful-vacation.html' title='A Restful Vacation'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-5741508624086332257</id><published>2009-02-04T10:11:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T10:26:40.016-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I know, I know</title><content type='html'>I have been sucky at blogging, I know. I'm sorry.  Forgive me.  Okay, now that we are over that. One of the blogs that I stumbled upon a long time ago and have been reading ever since, is &lt;a href="http://www.sothefishsaid.com/"&gt;So The Fish Said&lt;/a&gt; written by mom of two, Beth. She is so funny and I wish I could write like her and with as much frequency as she does, even with two kids.  Our oldest kids are the same age, so I love being able to relate to the milestones. Anyway, she posted an interview type thing on her blog and I thought I would play along.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p&gt;Ready?  Here we go!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.  Remember the movie &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088850/plotsummary"&gt;Brewster's Millions&lt;/a&gt;? That happens to you, except on a smaller scale. You receive a million dollars that you must spend in 30 days. However, you cannot have any assets to show for the money at the end of the month (and you can't buy something and then destroy it), you cannot waste the money, you cannot give it away, and you cannot tell anyone what you are doing. How do you ditch the dough in a month or less?  &lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-weight: normal; font-style: italic;"&gt;I have never seen this movie. Should I? Does it count if I prepay all my bills and rent for as long as a million dollars would cover them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.  You are locked in a toy store overnight, with no way out until it reopens in the morning.  What do you play with all night? &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;"&gt;A jigsaw puzzle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3. If you could have a dinner party with any three famous people, living or dead, you would be wasting your supernatural powers on hosting dinner parties. What would you do instead? &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;"&gt;Hmmm...I would travel back in time with my grandparents and learn about their childhoods, courtship and marriage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4. What's the best thing since sliced bread? Now, sliced bread ain't all that impressive, so what's the best mediocre, hum-drum improvement or advancement that has made modern life just ever so slightly more convenient for humanity, along the lines of saving yourself five seconds every time you want a piece of bread. &lt;span style="font-weight: normal; font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm going to go with cell phones here. Every time I call Joel real quick to remind him of something or to have him bail me out of an emergency, I think about what I would do without my cell phone. Seriously, what did we do without them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;strong&gt;5. What's your best quality? The response to this question must be a simple declarative statement. You may elaborate on that statement, provided that your elaboration does not include the words "but," "however," or "although," or any other hedging, equivocating, back-sliding, gerrymandering (which is not at all appropriate in this context, but I think it should be, don't you?) or any other type of backing down from the simple declarative statement with which you began your response.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I am a good mom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to play along, too, copy and paste the questions, fill in your own answers and then let me (and Beth!) know so we can check out your answers. Fun, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-5741508624086332257?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/5741508624086332257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=5741508624086332257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5741508624086332257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5741508624086332257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-know-i-know.html' title='I know, I know'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7113411363720178927</id><published>2009-01-24T14:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T14:20:39.091-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Inspired</title><content type='html'>So, reading Sarah's blog has inspired me to plan my menu online for all of you. So, here goes:&lt;br /&gt;Sunday: Ravioli with homemade sauce&lt;br /&gt;Monday: Stir fry Veggies and Brown Rice&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: Tacos (We're hosting Family night, so it will be ALOT of tacos) and spanish rice&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: Vegetarian Chili and Cornbread Souffle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I only got to Wednesday, but that's pretty good considering our schedule and eating habits. I'll be surprised if we actually go by this menu exactly because Joel has a tendency to fill up on Veggie Burgers before I get home from work at 6pm. So, I'll let you know! Off to the grocery store!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7113411363720178927?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7113411363720178927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7113411363720178927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7113411363720178927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7113411363720178927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-inspired.html' title='I&apos;m Inspired'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1592023962024855411</id><published>2009-01-19T21:16:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:29:31.178-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Winter Wonderland</title><content type='html'>We have gotten so much snow this winter! Seems like every weekend we are getting something. It makes me thankful that we live where we do and are not having to go out and shovel for hours and hours. My sister and I took the kids sledding today. So much fun! Oliver loved it. Morgan, not so much. She cried the whole way down the first time and refused to go down again after that. My sister did take her down one more time, this time with real tears. After that we let her just watch. Maybe she'll be more into it next year. I was proud of Oliver's bravery - he wanted to go down all the "big boy hills". We did one really big one and he got a face full of snow the whole way down. Still had a smile under all the snow but was ready to go home after that one. I think I will be sore tomorrow. Going up all those hills and pulling the sled behind me was quite a workout. It felt good to move my old bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SXU122eqA3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nzrlCwDtPIk/s1600-h/sledding+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SXU122eqA3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nzrlCwDtPIk/s320/sledding+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293196153497191282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SXU13IOe0_I/AAAAAAAAAJY/Xp1JTtEdk4s/s1600-h/sledding+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SXU13IOe0_I/AAAAAAAAAJY/Xp1JTtEdk4s/s320/sledding+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293196158261187570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was glad to get out and do something today. I feel like I have been in a funk lately. Not wanting to talk to anyone or see anyone or do anything. Maybe it's the winter, not enough sunlight blues. I don't know. But I do feel better today.  I'm enjoying the snow and the winter, but I am ready for some sun. Makes me wish we didn't decide to take this year off from going to Florida. Even a weekend at the beach would do me good, I think. A weekend at the beach BY MYSELF would do me even better! How about you? How do you survive the winter blues?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1592023962024855411?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1592023962024855411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1592023962024855411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1592023962024855411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1592023962024855411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/01/winter-wonderland.html' title='A Winter Wonderland'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SXU122eqA3I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/nzrlCwDtPIk/s72-c/sledding+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-443522709337656132</id><published>2009-01-09T08:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-09T08:38:02.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOLed</title><content type='html'>Thanks to Sarah (of One More Thing From Sarah B fame) I have found a new and hilarious blog. I will be adding it to my list over yonder. It is called &lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/stufffchristianslike.blogspot.com/"&gt;Stuff Christians Like&lt;/a&gt; and it is hilarious! Especially if you have grown up in the church. I will admit that at first, I thought it was going to be a blog of literal stuff Christians like, ie Life Application Bibles, books on disciplining your children, "Witness Wear", etc . But no, it is funny stuff! I laugh out loud almost every time I read it. I especially loved the post about Massages During Church. We all know the discomfort of having a touchy couple in front of you rubbing each others backs and necks. Eww! He captures it perfectly! Anyway, while you're waiting for me to write an interesting, witty blog, go check out this one.  Thanks, Sarah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-443522709337656132?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/443522709337656132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=443522709337656132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/443522709337656132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/443522709337656132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-loled.html' title='I LOLed'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-3634568816041326499</id><published>2008-12-30T08:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T08:16:35.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Have To Laugh</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Mommy, upon finding Morgan with a small hairclip in her mouth:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Morgan, don't put that in your mouth!   You could choke! What are you thinking?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Morgan:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; "Ummmm....I was thinking about picking my nose."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just have to laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-3634568816041326499?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/3634568816041326499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=3634568816041326499' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3634568816041326499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3634568816041326499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/have-to-laugh.html' title='Have To Laugh'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-5668980371613952176</id><published>2008-12-27T08:06:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T08:49:37.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Post Christmas Post</title><content type='html'>Hope you all had a great Christmas. Ours was very nice. I'm getting so emotional in my old age. I can barely make it through the Christmas Eve service at church without getting choked up.  So many different emotions were going on. I was happy because my mom is doing so much better and was able to come to church. (After having chemo just hours before - she's so strong!) I had been so afraid that she was not going to be able to enjoy Christmas this year. I haven't really gone into detail about it here, but long story short, her cancer has spread a bit and that kind of threw her into an emotional tailspin. She was struggling with anxiety for a few weeks and it was tough.  I hate to see her so out of it like that. Anyway, I had been praying that she would be able to enjoy Christmas and I think she really did.  So, I was emotional about that.  Also, I have been going to SSBC since I was born and feel like it is really an extension of my family. Looking around at all the familiar faces and thinking about how much of my life has been spent in that sanctuary made me feel so blessed. And to have both of my kids and my husband with me made it extra special.  And then there was the music. Can't make it through many songs without getting teary lately. Silent Night always gets me.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Morning was fun. I was able to get a smaller set of blocks and some accessories to go with it. The kids had fun opening their gifts and responded better than they did with their stockings. We try not to get too many gifts - one big gift, one smaller gift and a book. It's hard for me to stop myself, but I'm glad we do it that way. They are able to enjoy what they get. We had a nice time opening and then we had enough time for the kids to play with their blocks before we headed to my parents' house.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYrnkfGYqI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3yvVedisOXA/s1600-h/Christmas+08+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYrnkfGYqI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3yvVedisOXA/s320/Christmas+08+034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284459171574866594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mcloud Christmas was a little different this year. My mother gave us all an envelope of money to buy our own gifts and then she wrapped them and we all opened our gifts as usual. It was fun to see what we all picked out for ourselves.  Here are the favorites from Grammie - Morgan got a Fur Real Kitty (which I think is a bit frightening) and Oliver got a jackhammer (which I think is a bit loud).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYw_BrjXnI/AAAAAAAAAJE/d-rvl4sIZnw/s1600-h/Christmas+08+057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYw_BrjXnI/AAAAAAAAAJE/d-rvl4sIZnw/s320/Christmas+08+057.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284465072106856050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYw-6ltrfI/AAAAAAAAAI8/YqUfSWClVDk/s1600-h/Christmas+08+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYw-6ltrfI/AAAAAAAAAI8/YqUfSWClVDk/s320/Christmas+08+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284465070203317746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After brunch and gifts we hung out for a while and then in the afternoon we had appetizers and did a wine tasting. Everyone brought a different wine (or two) and we sampled each kind. I don't think any of them really went with the buffalo chicken dip I was eating.&lt;br /&gt;It was a little strange not going to my aunt's house and eating pasta, but I did enjoy not having to pack up the kids a million times and rush them out. It was a nice, low key family Christmas. How was yours?&lt;br /&gt;Next up...ideas for keeping my kids busy in the next few days of no school and no work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-5668980371613952176?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/5668980371613952176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=5668980371613952176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5668980371613952176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5668980371613952176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/post-christmas-post.html' title='Post Christmas Post'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SVYrnkfGYqI/AAAAAAAAAI0/3yvVedisOXA/s72-c/Christmas+08+034.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1973469602435817245</id><published>2008-12-21T08:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T09:07:11.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowed In</title><content type='html'>It has been snowing here since Friday afternoon. At first I was so excited about being cozy at home and watching the snow fall without having to go anywhere. Now it is Sunday and all I want to do is get out of this house!! Our wonderful apartment community has been plowing and shoveling the sidewalks constantly, BUT my van is completely trapped. The snow is as high as the top of the tires. We don't even have a shovel to get it out with.  I'm not sure what we are going to do. We're supposed to get another storm today that may turn to rain, but may not. I hope we are able to dig out by this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;I've also found myself in a predicament with the kids' main Christmas gift. Boy, Christmas has sneaked right up on me. I have been planning on getting them a nice, big set of blocks. I also have been planning on splitting the cost with Joel's parents. But, we waited too long to call them and have not gotten that money yet. I was thinking I could easily go out to the store  in Needham and get them, but now we are snowed in. I could have them shipped, but the shipping will be over $75!! Maybe Joel will be willing to take an adventure together today.  I HATE driving in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas excitement has started around here. We have adopted Joel's family tradition of opening one stocking gift each day leading up to Christmas. Yesterday was the first one. After the initial excitement of his coloring books, I asked Oliver if he liked them and he enthusiastically said "No, I don't think I do." I hope my other choices will be a little more exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1973469602435817245?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1973469602435817245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1973469602435817245' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1973469602435817245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1973469602435817245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/snowed-in.html' title='Snowed In'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-3853602024361929379</id><published>2008-12-14T20:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T21:15:35.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OK, I'm Here</title><content type='html'>Whew, what a busy day! Started out with church and my last sunday school class until after Christmas. We attempted to do an art project today! Big mistake with 17  children and a teeny tiny classroom.  I was so frazzled by the time we were done.  I feel terrible because one of the kids brought me a gift and I was so distracted that I forgot to open it AND to bring it home. Ooops! I'm a horrible teacher... I am looking forward to our lives settling down a bit so that I can really focus on Sunday School and the lessons that I am teaching. I'm tired of throwing something together on Saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;After church, Joel and I headed over to the old apartment to do the final clean-out and getting rid of the last few things left behind. Gave the crib and high chair to my cousin who is expecting, gave some old toys and the changing table to Nikki and Lucas and ended up losing the battle to keep my mom's sewing machine and table that she gave me. It is old and a bit worn and, ok, I'll admit, ugly, but I use it and it was my mom's so I like it. But, Joel was pretty adamant about not wanting it in the apartment, so I tried to be a submissive wife. I'm kind of sad about it, but maybe I'll be able to get a newer model with more bells and whistles.  For now, my mother has it back at her house. Not sure what its fate will be.&lt;br /&gt;We also picked up the fish tank that we hadn't brought over yet. We were so undecided about what to do with it. We didn't really want to bring it to the new place. We're nervous about the carpet. The tank and stand are older and a little worn out too but a new one is out of the question financially at this point. Anyway, we were kind of hoping that after a week or so in the old apartment with no heat and no food that they would have gone to fishy heaven, but no such luck. So, we cleaned it off as best as we could and lugged it over here.  At least the kids are excited.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I have to make it through another week before Christmas break. I wish I had more time off before Christmas to get everything done. I feel so behind! We did get our tree up this weekend and that makes me feel good.&lt;br /&gt;So, on the list for this week? Finish shopping for the gifts for our family from my mother (long story, I'll get to it later), call old landlords and pray that we get our security deposit in time for Christmas, buy wine for our Christmas day wine tasting - a new McLoud tradition, make gifts for girls at work, go to Oliver's Christmas show, buy groceries, finish unpacking... I'm tired already! But, on the bright side, I love the Christmas music and lights and festivities. I love the little traditions that we are making up as we go with our little family. And, I love my apartment, have I mentioned that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-3853602024361929379?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/3853602024361929379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=3853602024361929379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3853602024361929379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3853602024361929379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/ok-im-here.html' title='OK, I&apos;m Here'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-5903353893379092095</id><published>2008-12-13T20:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-13T20:28:29.128-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weighing My Options</title><content type='html'>I really want to blog. I also really want to sleep. I think the sleep is going to win tonight. I feel like I might be coming down with something. It's about time, I've been stressed for weeks. I've been waiting for sickness to strike! I do have so much to write about. My lack of preparation for Christmas, my inability to send out an e-mail Christmas card, my lovely new apartment all decked out for Christmas, my son's obsession with me having another baby (He thinks we're having one for Christmas. - Uh, no), my mom's cancer set-back and therefore also my lack of child care. I'll get to it soon!! Promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-5903353893379092095?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/5903353893379092095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=5903353893379092095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5903353893379092095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5903353893379092095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/weighing-my-options.html' title='Weighing My Options'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2051548036528379750</id><published>2008-12-05T21:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T21:32:02.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures!</title><content type='html'>OK, here are some shots of the new apartment. More to come when we are all unpacked and set up. We are still so excited and every time I come home, I think "Is this really where I live?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnik9uNNAI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ngLEY_gNJ1I/s1600-h/New+Apt+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnik9uNNAI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ngLEY_gNJ1I/s400/New+Apt+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276497563112780802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids' room enormous closet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnijylv4bI/AAAAAAAAAIU/d8NKLisI4Dc/s1600-h/New+Apt+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnijylv4bI/AAAAAAAAAIU/d8NKLisI4Dc/s400/New+Apt+016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276497542944645554" border="0" /&gt;Living room/dining room&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnikRJsMFI/AAAAAAAAAIk/WDZO3t-y6xs/s1600-h/New+Apt+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnikRJsMFI/AAAAAAAAAIk/WDZO3t-y6xs/s400/New+Apt+019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276497551148462162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kids' Bedroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2051548036528379750?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2051548036528379750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2051548036528379750' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2051548036528379750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2051548036528379750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/pictures.html' title='Pictures!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/STnik9uNNAI/AAAAAAAAAIs/ngLEY_gNJ1I/s72-c/New+Apt+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1040554850189948835</id><published>2008-12-03T07:48:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T07:50:35.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Digs</title><content type='html'>We're here! We are moved in, not totally unpacked and completely exhausted. AND...drum roll please...we can pick up the free, yes free, wireless internet from the main building. Woo Hoo!!!  That means I am back to blogging. But for now, I must unpack. I will try to post pictures tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1040554850189948835?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1040554850189948835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1040554850189948835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1040554850189948835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1040554850189948835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-digs.html' title='New Digs'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1798788978270971381</id><published>2008-11-06T13:08:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T13:13:22.288-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Post in Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMznVsyETI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ofzxDf0OIqQ/s1600-h/halloween+2008+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265609140259131698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMznVsyETI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ofzxDf0OIqQ/s200/halloween+2008+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMznHIJLbI/AAAAAAAAAIE/PXgijIu-5Ko/s1600-h/halloween+2008+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265609136347360690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMznHIJLbI/AAAAAAAAAIE/PXgijIu-5Ko/s200/halloween+2008+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzBIyrzEI/AAAAAAAAAH8/w7gw6oe-snw/s1600-h/halloween+2008+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265608483959196738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzBIyrzEI/AAAAAAAAAH8/w7gw6oe-snw/s200/halloween+2008+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzA46KsdI/AAAAAAAAAH0/ArMx3ry3qXM/s1600-h/halloween+2008+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265608479695614418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzA46KsdI/AAAAAAAAAH0/ArMx3ry3qXM/s200/halloween+2008+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzAkQAoWI/AAAAAAAAAHs/5uI5qrY_2PE/s1600-h/halloween+2008+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265608474150084962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzAkQAoWI/AAAAAAAAAHs/5uI5qrY_2PE/s200/halloween+2008+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzATd1V7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/F92N6NNJgiQ/s1600-h/halloween+2008+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265608469644662706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzATd1V7I/AAAAAAAAAHk/F92N6NNJgiQ/s200/halloween+2008+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzAF-BByI/AAAAAAAAAHc/eBNdYrAN0T4/s1600-h/halloween+2008+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265608466021549858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMzAF-BByI/AAAAAAAAAHc/eBNdYrAN0T4/s200/halloween+2008+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1798788978270971381?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1798788978270971381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1798788978270971381' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1798788978270971381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1798788978270971381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/11/post-in-pictures.html' title='A Post in Pictures'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SRMznVsyETI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ofzxDf0OIqQ/s72-c/halloween+2008+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7513082583460594353</id><published>2008-09-28T11:29:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T11:45:42.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old Kids On the Block</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.imageandstylenews.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/new-kids-on-the-block-concert-tickets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.imageandstylenews.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/06/new-kids-on-the-block-concert-tickets.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got a surprise free ticket to see the New Kids on the Block Friday night. Back in the day, I was completely OBSESSED (ok, obsessed isn't even the word) with them, but now that they have reunited, I've been a bit skeptical. Would seeing them now ruin my 14 year old image of them? Would they be old and sweaty and forget the words to the songs? Would they try to reinvent themselves and forget all the old stuff completely? So, I wasn't that upset about not going and when I got the call on Friday afternoon, I almost said no. But, I thought if it was free I would have nothing to lose, right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went with a woman I know at church who was also a big fan and a girl who is a senior in high school and was 2 at the prime of NKOTB. It was her cousin who gave us the tickets. So, I was expecting just regular seats, since they were free, but we had a executive box!! Complete with private bathroom, stocked refrigerator, tv, leather arm chairs, etc. I might never be able to go to a concert as a normal person again. It was great! Natasha Bettingfield opened and she was pretty good. I was still sort of blah about the whole thing until they showed clips of old New Kids videos up on the big screen, then they got all sentimental and the screen said "15 years ago we said goodbye and walked away and now we're back" and then they came out on the stage and it was so exciting! It was like seeing old friends again! Their performance was great, they had a perfect mix of new stuff and old stuff, they danced just as well if not better than before and they were just as nostalgic I was about it. You could really tell they were having a good time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all, it was a really fun night and I am so glad I went. Had I known it was going to be so fun, I would have made more of an effort to get tickets for me and my group of NKOTB fan friends. I feel like they are the only ones who truly understand my obsession. I did have fun with the people I went with, but sometimes, you just need your best buds. It was great to look out and see groups of women with their old NKOTB shirts on, singing along and having fun together just like we were all 14 again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7513082583460594353?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7513082583460594353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7513082583460594353' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7513082583460594353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7513082583460594353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/09/old-kids-on-block.html' title='Old Kids On the Block'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1415446636509678097</id><published>2008-09-19T12:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T12:17:20.155-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WOO HOO!!</title><content type='html'>We got picked for an apartment!!!!! YAY YAY YAY! Now, we just have to make it through the rest of the paperwork, criminal background check, credit check, etc. and then we are all set. Move in dates are set for December to January.  I hope my brief stint as a bank robber doesn't impede our progress.  I'll be holding my breath until we actually move in, I think. I can't believe it!&lt;br /&gt;ps. Our landline phone is out of service, again. Thanks alot, Verizon! So, if you need us, call our cells.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1415446636509678097?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1415446636509678097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1415446636509678097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1415446636509678097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1415446636509678097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/09/woo-hoo.html' title='WOO HOO!!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8407533724524013612</id><published>2008-09-09T10:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T10:47:48.749-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Hopes Are Officially Up</title><content type='html'>We recently applied for reduced rent housing at a new apartment/townhouse community in the town I grew up in. Since I work for the town and still have close relatives who live there, we qualified for the lottery. We would only have to pay about $100 more a month than what we are paying now and the apartments are so nice. Since it is a "community", there is a pool, playground and gym. AND, it is on the water. So, I have been thinking about it and praying about it and up until this week was somewhat guarded about it. But then, I went and looked at the floor plans on the website. I'm no longer neutral about the whole thing. I WANT TO LIVE THERE!!  Every 2 bedroom has 2 bathrooms, there is a dishwasher (dear Lord, a dishwasher), washer/dryer and every apartment has a deck.  The drawing is sometime around the end of the month. So, if you are a praying person, please pray that we get this apartment. And if we do not, please pray that I will be content with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8407533724524013612?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8407533724524013612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8407533724524013612' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8407533724524013612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8407533724524013612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-hopes-are-officially-up.html' title='My Hopes Are Officially Up'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1414755431092061222</id><published>2008-08-27T19:29:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T20:03:53.229-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Could You Pick Up That Piece of My Heart Right There?</title><content type='html'>My baby boy starts preschool next week. He'll be going to the school that Joel works at and that my sister teaches at. Two full days each week. He had his orientation ("orimatation" in Ollie- speak) this morning and seems pretty excited, though he has had his share of tears recently. The other night as I was putting him to bed, I brought up the subject of preschool and his little lip started to quiver as he was bravely trying to keep it together. He said, "I don't want to go to preschool because I am afraid I will not see you." So we talked about it how it will only be two days out of seven that he won't be able to see me all day and how much fun it will be and how Daddy and Annie will be there if he needs them. Then he said, and this is when my heart shattered into a million pieces, "But, I am afraid that there will be a mean kid in my class who will hit me or push me." At that point, I just wanted to gather him up in my arms and tell him he will never have to leave me and that I will never let a mean kid even breathe on him. Ever. But, then it was my turn to put on a brave face and explain to him that yes, there may be a mean kid in your class, and if something happens you need to use your words (man, how many times do I use that phrase every day?) and let the teacher know and try to be extra nice to the kid, etc. Meanwhile, I'm thinking that if any kid lays a finger on my boy, they will have to face the wrath of the Mama.&lt;br /&gt;So, then I start to tell him that if he is really feeling nervous about going to school then we should pray about it and ask God to help him feel brave. This seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. The tears really started flowing now, he was sobbing and said he didn't want to pray about it. He just doesn't want to go.   So, in we went to Daddy because at this point&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I&lt;/span&gt; was about to start crying.  He was a typical Daddy - very matter-of-fact and you'll-be-fine, with Oliver and with me.&lt;br /&gt;Actually, this preschool thing is going to be more Joel's thing than mine. He went with him to orientation today since I had training for work, he'll be taking him in and getting him to my mom's afterschool AND he'll be there at school if Oliver needs anything. It's kind of hard for me to be so hands-off, but I think it is good for the boys to have a little bonding time.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday is the big first day - I'll try to blog and maybe put on some pictures if I can. This dial-up connection is super-slow, though, so no promises on the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Funny Oliver quote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy, I love you. I love you EVEN when Mo-Mo (Morgan) poops in her underwear. I love you even when you are disappointed in someone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1414755431092061222?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1414755431092061222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1414755431092061222' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1414755431092061222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1414755431092061222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/08/could-you-pick-up-that-piece-of-my.html' title='Could You Pick Up That Piece of My Heart Right There?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8786112844090079828</id><published>2008-07-30T11:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T11:37:34.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Words</title><content type='html'>I worked at the extended school year program this summer in the preschool. We had children who need the extra structure of the classroom during the summer - all have IEP's and most receive some kind of services. Speech, OT, PT, etc. So, it hasn't been a breeze. I have enjoyed it, but it is a challenge. We have one student who is older for preschool - he's five, and he has some major anger issues. I often wonder how a young child like that can be so angry.  We had come to expect his outbursts of "This is stupid!" "I hate this place!" Don't talk to me!", but last week he said some words that I have never even said. We were sitting at circle time and this child, we'll call him Mouth,  was unhappy that he didn't get to sit next to his friend. When it came time for Mouth to do his job for the day, collecting nametags, he was uncooperative. So, one of the other aides got up and helped him to do it right. This just happened to be the teacher who sat in between Mouth and his friend, so he already had a grudge. He started yeling and called her a stupid, f-ing b-! TWO TIMES! We were shocked, none of us knew what to say. The head teacher handled it very well, removing him from the circle and giving him time to cool off before speaking to him.  The rest of circle time went to pot after that, none of us knew where to go from there. I think the other kids realized this and we pretty much lost control. Our cutie-pie autisitc student got frustrasted and bit the same teacher that got called the lovely name. She had a rough day!&lt;br /&gt;Thinking about the situation after the initial shock of it all, I realize that this poor kid is really a victim, not just a fresh-mouthed naughty boy.  How could he know these words and the context they are used in if he has not seen it modeled in someone else? There were so many times that he showed his true, little boy self and it made me wonder where all the anger comes from? How can a kid who loves Spiderman and makes sure he sees every picture in the books we are reading, turn around and call someone such a vicious name? &lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I am glad our program is done for the summer. Though, I do kind of wish I had more time to spend with Mouth and show him that not all adults are angry and it is ok to have fun once in a while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8786112844090079828?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8786112844090079828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8786112844090079828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8786112844090079828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8786112844090079828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/07/big-words.html' title='Big Words'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4537752356065761990</id><published>2008-07-27T19:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-27T19:50:00.037-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What's In  A Name?</title><content type='html'>My boy is the most clever, hilarious thing I've ever met. Yesterday, he chose a stuffed animal out of the stuffed animal bucket to bring to bed with him. Apparently, Zebra is not cutting it anymore. So, he chose a orange striped kitty that he got at Build-a-bear a long time ago. He was asking me about where he got it and what its name was, etc. All the questions a 3-year old asks, and then some, including why his kitty does not have a bellybutton. I told him that the kitty does not really have a name yet, so he can name it if he would like to. He thought about this for a few minutes and said, "Hydrogen Peroxide".  OH MY GOSH...I about died of laughter right there, I held it in and praised his choice of such a creative name. As he was falling asleep he was quietly crooning to the kitty, "Hydrogen Peroxide, goodnight. Hydrogen Peroxide, I love you." I had to leave the room and laugh and tell Joel about it. Where does he come up with this stuff?? He had a splinter earlier in the day and I cleaned it with some hydrogen peroxide so that is why it was fresh in his mind, I guess.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I had to hug and kiss Hydrogen Peroxide good night after Oliver got his kisses. I'll take some pictures when I can of Ollie and good old H.P.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4537752356065761990?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4537752356065761990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4537752356065761990' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4537752356065761990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4537752356065761990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/07/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s In  A Name?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4141449858085584090</id><published>2008-07-12T19:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T20:02:09.934-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where's Joe?</title><content type='html'>So, I've started something new. I thought for sure after starting Peapod grocery delivery that I would NEVER go to the grocery store again, but the other day I was in the neighborhood of Trader Joe's and I tried it out. I think I am in love. At first, I didn't  really like it - it seemed small, unorganized and without enough options. But, the food is good. Really good. After our second trip there, I think I am sold. I think I can either live without or make a seperate trip for the things that we cannot get there. Also, I thought it would be super expensive, but I've been spending less than at the supermarket.  Oliver loves that he can stay in the cart while the lady pulls it through to scan the items and he gets a balloon and stickers.  The first time we were there he did ask me where Joe was. Too cute.  The only bad part, it is a pretty good hike from where we live. Is it worth it? We shall see.&lt;br /&gt;Ollie was in the paper again this week. This time from the fireworks in Hingham. Of course he is never with me in these pictures.  Can't seem to find the link now, but I'll put it on here if I find it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4141449858085584090?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4141449858085584090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4141449858085584090' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4141449858085584090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4141449858085584090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/07/wheres-joe.html' title='Where&apos;s Joe?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2289699849025903152</id><published>2008-07-05T23:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-05T23:23:08.768-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Push Present?</title><content type='html'>OK, so it is super-late and I am just winding down from the fireworks and surfing the web a bit and I came across&lt;a href="http://www.parentdish.com/2008/07/05/making-labor-and-delivery-worth-it-keith-urban-buys-nicole-kidm/"&gt; this&lt;/a&gt; article about Keith Urban's push present for Nicole Kidman. I wasn't aware that this was such a popular thing. Seems a bit much to me. I mean, I got flowers when Morgan was born and nothing (Other than a sweet bundle of love) when Ollie was born.  But, major pieces of jewelry, I'm not sure how I feel about that. Yes, it is a lot of work and certainly worthy of mad amounts of bling, but isn't the gift of your baby enough? Maybe the gifts should be saved for mother's day?&lt;br /&gt;Anyone ever get a puch present? What was it? What are your thoughts on the issue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;By the way, best quote of the day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oliver when talking to Grammie about seeing the fireworks from her house:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; "Grammie, did you see the fire AND the works?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2289699849025903152?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2289699849025903152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2289699849025903152' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2289699849025903152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2289699849025903152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/07/push-present.html' title='Push Present?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6451957875326019745</id><published>2008-06-26T18:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:32:59.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our New Favorite Thing</title><content type='html'>We went camping this week and I am happy to say it was a huge hit! Even though it was raining, no make that torrential downpouring, most of the time we were there. We went to a campground that I grew up going to, which was exciting for me to bring my own children there. We stayed in a little cabin since we were not too sure how the kids would do with the sleeping and such. Turned out to be a great move what with all the rain. I have to say, I am very proud of us for not letting the rain get us down. We loosened up and let the kids play in the rain and get muddy, we took the time to enjoy each other and to relax. No whining or stressing about what we were not able to do. The kids had a blast playing in the rain, of course. At one point Morgan was sitting in a puddle that was at least an inch deep. They loved it and even better, they slept great! The cabin had a double bed and a bunk bed, I thought for sure I would end up in the bunk with a kid or two and Joel would be sprawled out in the big bed alone, but they did great. Morgan fell asleep while I was reading to her and then Oliver climbed up on top and went to sleep without a fuss. They slept hard, both nights. It was great! Tuesday night, after the kids went to bed, Joel and I were even able to sit out by the fire for a while. The rain cleared up just in time for us to have that time. Joel liked doing the fire. He started one in the morning and tried to keep it going all day, even in the rain. He was drenched, but the fire was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;I am so looking forward to the next time we go. We're thinking about maybe next month sometime. Anyone want to join us?&lt;br /&gt;I want to post some pictures, but I think I will wait until I have a faster connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oliver cooking his first hog dog. We made him promise to eat it...he ate one little tiny piece.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216954371625321570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SGZYXEImBGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/rHd1h3v2CmE/s200/camping1+025.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Fun on the bunk bed!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216954353551558178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SGZYWAzeRiI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Nnz5uAoCmXg/s200/camping1+046.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Cleaning" the cabin.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216954351130138018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SGZYV3yKVaI/AAAAAAAAAFM/Yd_UFd9wHjo/s200/camping1+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6451957875326019745?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6451957875326019745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6451957875326019745' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6451957875326019745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6451957875326019745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/06/our-new-favorite-thing.html' title='Our New Favorite Thing'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SGZYXEImBGI/AAAAAAAAAFc/rHd1h3v2CmE/s72-c/camping1+025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-5530273426441862233</id><published>2008-06-25T15:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-25T15:30:08.171-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Famous...sort of</title><content type='html'>Hey, check &lt;a href="http://www.wickedlocal.com/weymouth/news/x1470890600/Relay-raises-146-000-to-fight-cancer"&gt;this out!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did this Relay for Life last weekend.  Cute picture, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-5530273426441862233?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/5530273426441862233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=5530273426441862233' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5530273426441862233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/5530273426441862233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/06/famoussort-of.html' title='Famous...sort of'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4108992279847392221</id><published>2008-06-19T19:59:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:32:59.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Superwoman</title><content type='html'>Ok, see those links to the right? I totally just did that all by myself without any help from the computer whiz (Joel). I'm so proud of myself right now. Of course it probably took me ten times longer than it would have had I asked for help, but sometimes I just want to do it myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was my first full day off and I really enjoyed it. Had a nice relaxed morning with the kids. I actually made a roadway with them out of Fun Foam. Spent a long time measuring and cutting out pieces. I even made a couple tunnels. Am I Mom-of-the-year or what? Yeah, they only played with it for a little while, then they were more interested in the little scraps that I left on the floor. Oh well, I tried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsONU06IqI/AAAAAAAAAFE/LM1UB_dEWaQ/s1600-h/roadway2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsONU06IqI/AAAAAAAAAFE/LM1UB_dEWaQ/s320/roadway2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213776615703192226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsNof2auTI/AAAAAAAAAE8/D4SDEBmFmJs/s1600-h/roadway1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsNof2auTI/AAAAAAAAAE8/D4SDEBmFmJs/s320/roadway1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213775983007152434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The Peapod Man (grocery delivery) came, which always causes quite a stir.  Oliver nearly pees his pants with excitement and Morgan spends the hour before he is scheduled to arrive asking me if he is going to ring the buzzer. She hates our door buzzer and climbs my leg every time it buzzes. The anticipation of it is almost more that she can bear. Then, when the truck pulls into the parking lot, they have to go out into the hallway and wait for him to come up the stairs.  When he finally gets into the apartment Oliver has to describe everything in the apartment and everything we have done thus far this morning. "We have fishies. We made a road today. This is my pick-up truck."At which point the Peapod Man just smiles and nods...Oliver is hard to understand when he speaks normally, but when he is excited, forget it.  Then, the unpacking begins. I think this is my favorite part. It's like a little bit of Christmas every time.  No matter what it is that they find in the bags, they yell it out with joy. Bread! Napkins! Cheese! Oh the joy!  Actually, they are rather helpful with the putting away. What with the delivery and the putting away, I hardly have to do anything. It's great...it really is a little Christmas every time.&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, we headed out to an appointment and then to the playground. We had the whole park to ourselves which was great.  Could this girl get any cuter??&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsM1dUotPI/AAAAAAAAAE0/dk5lHtxF830/s1600-h/playground.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsM1dUotPI/AAAAAAAAAE0/dk5lHtxF830/s320/playground.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213775106155263218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After that, we made an impromptu trip to the Farmer's Market with our friend, Miss Jennifer. Bought some fresh asparagus which I ate ALL of tonight with dinner, as well as some zucchini and some snap peas. (Does it really make your pee smell funny? I guess I'll have to let you know.) We had an ice cream and enjoyed the afternoon. I guess I am glad that I am not home every day like this, because then it wouldn't seem so special.&lt;br /&gt;So, I did all of this AND I am blogging, thus Superwoman.&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah, and...I made this cake a few weeks ago.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsJoOM3QZI/AAAAAAAAAEs/OvT2wgQs4g0/s1600-h/cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsJoOM3QZI/AAAAAAAAAEs/OvT2wgQs4g0/s320/cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213771580222947730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Impressed?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4108992279847392221?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4108992279847392221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4108992279847392221' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4108992279847392221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4108992279847392221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/06/superwoman.html' title='Superwoman'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFsONU06IqI/AAAAAAAAAFE/LM1UB_dEWaQ/s72-c/roadway2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7770798247573948115</id><published>2008-06-12T20:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T20:49:18.065-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2 More Days</title><content type='html'>Can school just be over now? I am so done and needing a break from the routine. Monday is the last day of school and then Tuesday and Wednesday we have clean up days. I don't mind those days so much - no kids, no problem. But, man, these kids are driving me nuts. (For once, I'm not referring to my own.) Here are some of the issues I have been dealing with recently:&lt;br /&gt; 1. Playing in the gym, I tell the kids to put all the balls in the middle. "C'mon guys, balls in the middle!" So, one of the second graders starts laughing and pointing at his nether-region saying, "Get it, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;balls &lt;/span&gt;in the middle?" SECOND GRADE!!! I don't think I would have gotten that joke in second grade. &lt;br /&gt;2. I see two boys tackling each other on the Lego rug, so I run over there thinking they are fighting and one says that the other was poking him in the butt and he didn't like it, then a whole bunch of them say they are poking each other in the butt.  Sometimes, I just want to look at them and say, "What are you thinking?" I often wonder if it is okay for me to just tell them to stop poking each other's butts or if I have to make a big huge deal out of it and talk about keeping your hands to your self and how butts are private, etc.&lt;br /&gt;It's hard for me to keep a straight face most of the time.  Like if a student tells me that another kid called him/her annoying or stinky, etc. I just want to say, "Well, are you?" Because honestly, most of the time the answer would be yes. &lt;br /&gt;Oh kids...&lt;br /&gt;Things on the homefront are fine. We were allegedly going to go to Chicago next week, but that got "postponed". I don't really think we'll ever go. Not that we don't want to, but it is nearly impossible to coordinate our schedules and money and children and cars and all that a road trip  entails. I am trying to convince Joel to take us camping for a few days instead.  I've been dying to take the kids camping. I think they would love it. I know I miss those camping days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is way past my bed time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7770798247573948115?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7770798247573948115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7770798247573948115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7770798247573948115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7770798247573948115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/06/2-more-days.html' title='2 More Days'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4633063555495091414</id><published>2008-06-08T20:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T21:14:31.189-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I've been enjoying reading other blogs lately and have decided to get back on track with mine, though at this point, I probably am the only one who looks at it. &lt;br /&gt;We've had a busy weekend.  My niece graduated from high school on Saturday. Ok, why can I not get through one of those things without getting choked up? I can't figure it out.  Mostly I am jealous of their new beginning. Looking up at those 30 or so kids in her class, I kept thinking about how they are about to start the most amazing journey of their lives. College and then the "real world". Life is never the same. At least it wasn't for me. College for me was a blast. I made some of my best friends, learned so much about myself and God and others and had tons of fun.  I love where I am now, but sometimes I long for that new beginning of college again. The feeling that the good stuff is all about to come. It was so exciting. I feel like sitting Em down and saying "Enjoy every moment, remember everything, skip class sometimes so you can do fun things with your friends like play video games for an hour. Just don't let it pass you by so quickly - the real world is not all it's cracked up to be."&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the real world,  2 and 3 are killing me. It is a busy, crazy time. I am running in two different directions and giving double time outs and spankings. As soon as Ollie does something and I say no, Morgan is right on his heels to get in on it, too.  Time outs are very effective with the boy, not so much with the girl. She trots right into her room, sits on the bed and waits patiently for me to come in and talk. Sometimes she even thumbs through a book while she's waiting. Then when I ask her why she has a time out, she replies with a big grin, "I did something naughty." Then we talk about it, she says sorry, kisses me and is on her merry way. A mere inconvenience in her 2 year old agenda. Oliver on the other hand, hates to be alone so a banishment to his room is a fate worse than death. He goes in kicking and screaming and once in there yells to us, "I don't want to be in here, somebody get me outta here. Mommmy, Dadddy, get me out." Oy.&lt;br /&gt;I seem to have a new hobby, well as much of a hobby as a mother of two toddlers that works part time can have, cake making and decorating. I have found that I really love to do it. I made the kids' birthday cakes and then this weekend I made Emilee's grad cake. Caramel nougat cake with chocolate ganache frosting and fondant decorations. It came out great, if I do say so myself, and I had a really fun time doing it.  I'll post pictures another time when I am not about to fall asleep at the computer. &lt;br /&gt;So, I'm back. Let's hope I can keep it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4633063555495091414?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4633063555495091414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4633063555495091414' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4633063555495091414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4633063555495091414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/06/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8612804412035945190</id><published>2008-04-13T19:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T19:45:18.138-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Un-stinkin-believable</title><content type='html'>Stupid-jerk-numb nuts-car guy has again jerked us around and led us to believe he was going to pay us our money. We called today to set up an appointment and he called us back and said he doesn't have the money. UGH!  We just talked to him YESTERDAY and things seemed all set. I'm so done with this guy. Now we have to take him to small claims court, which is another pain in the butt. Just give us our money, dude.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8612804412035945190?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8612804412035945190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8612804412035945190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8612804412035945190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8612804412035945190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/04/un-stinkin-believable.html' title='Un-stinkin-believable'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8633315561305843707</id><published>2008-04-06T19:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:51:09.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life in Snippets</title><content type='html'>So, life is busy with two toddlers and a job. I have been longing to sit down and write a funny, witty blog, but can't ever seem to get the time to just sit and write. At the moment kids are asleep, Joel's in the bath and things are fairly quiet. But, my brain is mush.  So, you'll have to settle for snippets. Hey, at least it is something, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt; Have been having a fiasco with a car that we bought and had to return due to the Lemon Law. The guy we are dealing with is a total moron (and I mean that quite literally) and it looks like we are going to have to take him to small claims court. He owes us $700 and he has the nerve to tell us that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we &lt;/span&gt;are stressing &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; out. Meanwhile, I have had no car for over a month!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Work is going well. By the time I get there, I feel like it is my time to relax, we have such busy mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Turned 31 AND celebrated five years of marriage. I'm old. Also, my babies will be 3 and 2 soon. Ollie's going to preschool in the fall.  Did I mention that I am old?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got tested for the gene abnormality that my mom has that caused her cancer and the results were negative. That was a huge relief.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My house is a complete disaster and trying to clean it is like shoveling the driveway in the middle of a blizzard, while it is still snowing.  I just want to throw everything away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My children are complete geniuses and are hysterical also. I love them to bits and pieces. Planning for the big birthday bash has begun. More info to come on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Ok, I think that is about all I can handle right now.  Anyone read this thing anymore?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8633315561305843707?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8633315561305843707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8633315561305843707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8633315561305843707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8633315561305843707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-life-in-snippets.html' title='My Life in Snippets'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1180297901188861865</id><published>2008-02-23T14:45:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:39:57.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All About MeMe</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I was tagged by &lt;a href="http://alwensmusings.blogspot.com/"&gt;Alwen&lt;/a&gt; to do a meme. Sounds like fun, but may take some thought. Here are the rules:                                                                                    1. List 7 random things about yourself that people may not know.                 2. Link the person who sent this to you, and leave a comment on their blog so that their readers can visit yours.                                                                      3. Post the rules on your blog.                                                                                4. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, linking their blog. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.  (I hope I can find 7 Blogs!!!)     Ok here goes:&lt;br /&gt; 1.  I am a super-fast reader. If I am really into a book, I can read the whole thing in a matter of days. It was much easier to do this pre-children, but even now I whip through them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.   I secretly love country music. Used to laugh at people who liked it and even make fun of them - but now I find myself moved to tears by some of the songs I hear.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I love photography and wish I had the time and money (and talent) to make it more of a hobby .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. Related to #1 - If I really like a book by a certain author, I feel compelled to read every book that author has written. Some authors I have done this with are: Amy Tan, Madeline L'Engle (haven't gotten through all of hers, yet!) and now I am working on Jody Picoult. A new find for me and she should keep me busy for a while. She has a lot of books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Hmmm.... this is tough.  Let's see... I discovered the other day while watching a movie that it gives me the heebie jeebies to watch someone shave or be shaved . We saw "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" yesterday and there is a scene in which a son shaves his elderly father and I literally had to turn my head away so I couldn't see it. Strange, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Come on, I can think of 2 more.  I love my kids' feet. I think they are the cutest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I have an iPod finally, but I can never think of any music I want to put on it. Any suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I'm done. How'd I do? Instead of tagging people, I'll let you tag yourselves.  If you are reading this and you have the time and energy to do one, please do. Then let me know so I can read about how much more interesting you are than me.                                                            &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1180297901188861865?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1180297901188861865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1180297901188861865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1180297901188861865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1180297901188861865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-all-about-meme.html' title='It&apos;s All About MeMe'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7841788636937330383</id><published>2008-01-20T13:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T13:18:43.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Infestation</title><content type='html'>This week I encountered what could be considered a parent's nightmare: my children had lice. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My&lt;/span&gt; children, the ones who don't go to school or daycare, completely infested with lice. My only guess is that they got it in the church nursery.  I think Morgan has had it for a long time, because her bugs were big and had set up camp pretty comfortably in her hair.  I noticed her itching a few days before, but I thought it was due to her dry scalp. Then, I was putting her hair up in a pony tail and noticed something moving.  My stomach dropped.  I checked Oliver and found only a few in his hair. Never have I wanted to shave everyone's heads, including my own, as much.  Maybe that is why Britney Spears shaved her head. I bet Sean Preston and Jayden got lice.  We had to take everything that was washable and wash it and anything that wasn't washable and put it in a plastic bag for 2 weeks. I'm STILL doing laundry. The treatment was a nightmare. Ever tried to get a 1 1/2 year old and 2 1/2 year old to sit still long enough to comb through every strand of hair?? I still feel itchy from it. I disturbed quite a few friends from Morgan's head.  Yuck! I am just praying that we got it all and that it doesn't come back.  I feel like a Mama monkey picking at all the bugs in their hair. Every time they are on my lap I am fingering through their hair.  The quote of the day was from Oliver when I was combing through his hair. He was screaming and thrashing and he just yelled out "Oh Holy Moly!" It was hysterical.&lt;br /&gt;So, we are making due with one stuffed animal each for a few weeks and limited time on Mommy's bed. Keep your fingers crossed for no more bugs! Off to do more laundry!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7841788636937330383?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7841788636937330383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7841788636937330383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7841788636937330383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7841788636937330383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2008/01/infestation.html' title='Infestation'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2678876318887880391</id><published>2007-12-30T21:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T21:35:12.395-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Here</title><content type='html'>Just very busy and very sleep deprived.  I'll be back soon...I promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2678876318887880391?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2678876318887880391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2678876318887880391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2678876318887880391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2678876318887880391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/12/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m Still Here'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1321710251249036597</id><published>2007-11-05T20:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T20:18:43.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the Last One...I Promise</title><content type='html'>Ok, I know, videos are getting kind of old and boring, but this one is too cute so I will post it anyway. This child can EAT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3b6a8c1eaa1a986a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b6a8c1eaa1a986a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D238A89C01F2754B40677611D05E9AA5EDFDAFFC7.55CCF70729978C7C2CCC463C4A31C262A879D6A7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b6a8c1eaa1a986a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCWkd_P2H8hMKTy5N3at6XAWtNgg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b6a8c1eaa1a986a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D238A89C01F2754B40677611D05E9AA5EDFDAFFC7.55CCF70729978C7C2CCC463C4A31C262A879D6A7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b6a8c1eaa1a986a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCWkd_P2H8hMKTy5N3at6XAWtNgg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to be able to sit down and write a good blog sometime soon.  I have lots of ideas in my head, just not alot of time for blogging. I should bring the computer into Ollie's room in the middle of the night while I am sitting there waiting for him to fall back asleep. I sat in there for an hour last night at 3 am waiting for him to fall back asleep  and he still cried when I left the room and ended up in our bed. At the moment, he is curled up in the beanbag chair in the living room sound asleep. Joel said he crawled in there when they got home at 6 and fell asleep and then he woke him up to put his PJs on and transfer him to the crib, but he cried (surprise!) and went right back onto the beanbag. I'm thinking of leaving him there for the night. Whatever works at this point.&lt;br /&gt;So, I want to do product reviews on my blog, and maybe bring back Memory Monday. Here's today's: Remember those suncatchers that were a big hit in the 80's? You put little glass beads in the wire frame and then baked it in the oven. We found some of those kits at work the other day. Man, I loved those. I can still remember the acrid smell of them baking. Fun times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1321710251249036597?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3b6a8c1eaa1a986a&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1321710251249036597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1321710251249036597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1321710251249036597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1321710251249036597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-is-last-onei-promise.html' title='This is the Last One...I Promise'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1672628226943294942</id><published>2007-10-28T20:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T20:34:03.760-05:00</updated><title type='text'>HELP!</title><content type='html'>Ok, anyone with toddler experience, I need your help.  I mentioned before that Oliver has been having a hard time sleeping. I think I have reached the end of my rope with it. I was fine with sitting in there for a little while until he was asleep, but tonight he wanted me to rock him to sleep. He finally fell asleep and I put him in his crib and he woke up and cried all over again. So, I left the room and told him I'd be back (hoping that he would fall asleep in the meantime...) and he cried and screamed so loud that he scared Morgan. It was definitely a angry scream rather than a scared or sad one, so I finally threatened to spank him if he keeps it up. It is so hard to tell if this is a naughty, power struggle thing or if he is genuinely scared. I don't want to punish him for being afraid, but I do want to punish him for being demanding and controlling and down right naughty.  Last night was awful, too. I went out for a while and he was asleep, thankfully, when I got home, but he woke up at about midnight and ended up in our bed at 1:30 and then he and I ended up on the couch at about 2:oo and he was awake at 6!!! Not only could I not leave him alone, but he had to be physically touching me somehow in order to fall asleep. I was hoping this would be a quick phase because of the no-binky transition, but it is seeming like more. Should I call the doctor?  Is she going to just tell me that it is a phase and it will pass and I should just let him cry it out? Because that is tough when he shares a room with a peacefully sleeping baby.&lt;br /&gt;He went through this before when Morgan was an infant. I actually ended up sleeping on the floor in his room a few times. It was almost exactly the same thing, now that I think about it, I would stay in there until I was sure he was asleep and then I would tip toe out and as soon as I did that he would wake up and scream hysterically.&lt;br /&gt;From a purely selfish standpoint, I am getting so annoyed at "wasting" my whole evening sitting in there waiting for him to fall asleep. (I put it in quotes, because I know in the long run, it is not a waste - it's my job for right now.)  I can't really get anything accomplished around the house unless I want to stay up super late or get up super early before the kids do.  I also don't want to spend any free minute that I do have working on housework. I think I would go crazy.  Which is why I'm blogging right now instead of finishing up the dishes or cleaning up the last few toys laying around. &lt;br /&gt;So, faithful readers, what is your advice???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1672628226943294942?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1672628226943294942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1672628226943294942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1672628226943294942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1672628226943294942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/10/help.html' title='HELP!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1307791331639560249</id><published>2007-10-23T09:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:33:00.081-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Profile Picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;It has been brought to my attention that there are no family pictures on this blog. So, my mission is to get a nice family photo of us at some point soon. Until then, I give you this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rx4Evtehu_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/Qnre3yCNhbQ/s1600-h/pumpkin+patch+039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rx4Evtehu_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/Qnre3yCNhbQ/s400/pumpkin+patch+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124538643702201330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1307791331639560249?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1307791331639560249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1307791331639560249' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1307791331639560249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1307791331639560249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/10/new-profile-picture.html' title='New Profile Picture'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rx4Evtehu_I/AAAAAAAAAD4/Qnre3yCNhbQ/s72-c/pumpkin+patch+039.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2862743819825755381</id><published>2007-10-23T09:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T09:22:00.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Do I Do With Myself?</title><content type='html'>The children are gone with Grammie for the morning... where do I begin? I have quite a list of to-do's for the morning before I head to work. Here they are in order:&lt;br /&gt;1. Write a real blog. It's been a while.&lt;br /&gt;2. Switch summer and winter clothes and try to bring as many bins as possible back over to our inconvenient-yet-large-so-it's-worth-it storage closet.&lt;br /&gt;3. Get a hair cut. Oh man, I am psyched for this one. I think I'm going to go pretty short. I'm ready for a change.&lt;br /&gt;4. Head over to my parents' house to finish the laundry and watch some TV (shhh...don't tell Joel!) before I go to work.&lt;br /&gt;I also should do the dishes and clean the bathroom and wash the kitchen floor, but who has time for that???&lt;br /&gt;I've been neglecting all my chores recently, including blogging, because I have not really had much of a break these days. I mentioned in my last entry that Oliver doesn't have his binky anymore. Well, since then, he doesn't have a nap anymore either. Ugh, it is almost worth giving him his binky back just for those few hours of sanity. Plus, he is miserable by 3:00. He's a smart little bugger, too. Says he'll nap if he can have his binky.  But, we've already made the break and I don't want to do it all over again. He's also been giving me a hard time at night going to bed. He doesn't want to be alone anymore so I have to sit in his room and read until he goes to sleep. Actually, that has been kind of nice. I get to do my bible study homework in peace while they fall asleep. It forces me to get it done. (Way to see the bright side, Becka!)&lt;br /&gt;So, that has been my life in a nutshell these days. Morgan has been napping and sleeping just fine. Thank goodness, because if it was both of them....whew. &lt;br /&gt;Oh, here's a funny thing Ollie said the other night: He was telling me that I needed to sleep in his room and that he was going to make me a new bed in there. So I told him I needed to go and sleep with Daddy so he wouldn't be lonely. Of course Oliver asked why so I told him that I belong to Daddy, too, and that Oliver needs to share me with him and with Morgan. Then Oliver said, "Me get Daddy a new Mommy." Sorry, bud, it doesn't work that way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2862743819825755381?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2862743819825755381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2862743819825755381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2862743819825755381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2862743819825755381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-do-i-do-with-myself.html' title='What Do I Do With Myself?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-8247544130856063633</id><published>2007-10-01T09:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T10:04:29.501-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Kind Of Idiot Flushes Her Cell Phone Down the Toilet?</title><content type='html'>Umm...yeah that would be me. I was over at my parents' house on Saturday visiting with some family friends from New Zealand. I went to the bathroom accompanied by my two little monkeys, as usual. Now that Oliver can open doors, having him in the bathroom with me is rough. He usually tries to open it while I am mid-pee.  So, as I was going, he started opening the door, so I jumped up, flushed the toilet and pulled up my pants all at once. All of a sudden, my cell phone flew out of my pocket and into the toilet and instantly disappeared into the abyss like a little silver poop. The timing was just perfect. I had no chance of even trying to grab it. So, since my dad is out of the country at the moment, we called one of his friends from church who is pretty handy and he came over and took the toilet off and was able to dislodge my phone from the bend in the pipe.  We took it apart and blow dried it and when I tried it this morning it worked!!! The display is a little messed up, but I made a call! Ahhh... the wonders of technology.  I'm going to go and disinfect it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS. No more binky for Oliver. That will be the next entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-8247544130856063633?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/8247544130856063633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=8247544130856063633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8247544130856063633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/8247544130856063633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/10/what-kind-of-idiot-flushes-her-cell.html' title='What Kind Of Idiot Flushes Her Cell Phone Down the Toilet?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1009756627092477701</id><published>2007-09-22T19:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T19:53:22.833-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please leave a message at the tone...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Unfortunately&lt;/span&gt;, Oliver has discovered fear. He has had a few nightmares recently (none that have to do with 911, though) and it seems like at night the strangest things scare him. I've had to remove piggy banks, blankets, stuffed animals, turn the light on, turn the light off, all sorts of things. Well, tonight he woke up crying about an hour after we put him down and was saying that Morgan's piggy bank scared him. So, I rocked him for a few minutes and decided that it is time for  a lesson about trusting God when we are afraid. So, I told him that God keeps us safe all the time and that when we are afraid we can ask Him to help us not to be afraid anymore.  Then I asked him if he wanted me to pray and ask God to keep him safe. He said yes, so I prayed a simple prayer and said Amen. Oliver said, "God's not home, Mommy. He's with Noah."   So much for that...&lt;br /&gt;After stifling my laughter,  I did tell him that God is always with us and always hears us. What a funny boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1009756627092477701?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1009756627092477701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1009756627092477701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1009756627092477701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1009756627092477701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/09/please-leave-message-at-tone.html' title='Please leave a message at the tone...'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2004388139607780069</id><published>2007-09-10T19:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T19:38:47.269-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream Analysis</title><content type='html'>Do you have or have you ever had a recurring dream/nightmare?  I think this is so interesting. Some dreams are easy to interpret but, I think, others are kind of hard to figure out. I have this recurring dream where I am in some situation where I need to call 911. I make the call and they either don't show up or the phone doesn't work, or, and this was the best one, it was the wrong number.  Why do I have this dream all the time?? Sometimes it is pretty scary and I wake up all scared-like and other times it is just a normal dream.  Most of the time in my dream I am waiting and waiting and they never show up.  I've never had to call 911 in real life, so it's not like I am reliving a traumatic experience. Anyway, just thought I'd share that with you. What's your theory?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2004388139607780069?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2004388139607780069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2004388139607780069' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2004388139607780069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2004388139607780069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/09/dream-analysis.html' title='Dream Analysis'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-4665962788831188998</id><published>2007-09-06T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T10:14:47.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ollie's Turn</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="280" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c8399d3e2ecce4cc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc8399d3e2ecce4cc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4349C04A701F9CCEF08AB377F7F515DDE9AAE75B.64849B2EBFB015D639FE9A5FE50DC75B6FC6524%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc8399d3e2ecce4cc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D_3BGo0fdqxaqT0PSkZ5ZqzPUqN4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="280" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc8399d3e2ecce4cc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4349C04A701F9CCEF08AB377F7F515DDE9AAE75B.64849B2EBFB015D639FE9A5FE50DC75B6FC6524%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc8399d3e2ecce4cc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D_3BGo0fdqxaqT0PSkZ5ZqzPUqN4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a sideways video (I was thinking of taking pictures, not videos...duh.) of Oliver singing my favorite song of his..Happy Birthday. Though, Ring around the Rosie is a close second.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="280" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-17ce1599adfca39" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D017ce1599adfca39%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D365CFB91908DD319A838205804959AED2C3B984F.31D9E9A4B355FB26B2DBC9015DC9AFDEC63586E4%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D17ce1599adfca39%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMrbQjbtsGgzSgtgyR0zqcdoqtyw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="280" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v5.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D017ce1599adfca39%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D365CFB91908DD319A838205804959AED2C3B984F.31D9E9A4B355FB26B2DBC9015DC9AFDEC63586E4%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D17ce1599adfca39%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DMrbQjbtsGgzSgtgyR0zqcdoqtyw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Ollie talking about the "Up-and-down Horseys"  which is the carousel at the beach. I absolutely love the way he says horseys.  Enjoy the cuteness and I promise I will do a real blog soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-4665962788831188998?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=17ce1599adfca39&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c8399d3e2ecce4cc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/4665962788831188998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=4665962788831188998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4665962788831188998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/4665962788831188998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/09/ollies-turn.html' title='Ollie&apos;s Turn'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2842320792323488366</id><published>2007-09-01T18:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-01T18:39:07.201-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is Only a Test...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="280" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7339dc9ebdcc8826" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7339dc9ebdcc8826%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D807DF1CA7DA5CA7BAED6C8C449EAAC40CBF36E92.1C6930A3174FD5DFAB9D5CDE5E4B994917396E52%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7339dc9ebdcc8826%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D7nvnR0cvr2c8lUW6Csk6Lnt4MMw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="280" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7339dc9ebdcc8826%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331260973%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D807DF1CA7DA5CA7BAED6C8C449EAAC40CBF36E92.1C6930A3174FD5DFAB9D5CDE5E4B994917396E52%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7339dc9ebdcc8826%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D7nvnR0cvr2c8lUW6Csk6Lnt4MMw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, let's see how this video thing works. This is a bad quality video of Morgan drinking the water at the beach. Excuse my obnoxious laughter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2842320792323488366?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7339dc9ebdcc8826&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2842320792323488366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2842320792323488366' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2842320792323488366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2842320792323488366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/09/this-is-only-test.html' title='This is Only a Test...'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1576960656077985150</id><published>2007-09-01T18:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:33:00.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let The Cuteness Speak for Itself</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rtn06cAu8fI/AAAAAAAAADw/n53l2LXYiIc/s1600-h/August+2007+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rtn06cAu8fI/AAAAAAAAADw/n53l2LXYiIc/s320/August+2007+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105380937390027250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1576960656077985150?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1576960656077985150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1576960656077985150' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1576960656077985150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1576960656077985150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/09/let-cuteness-speak-for-itself.html' title='Let The Cuteness Speak for Itself'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rtn06cAu8fI/AAAAAAAAADw/n53l2LXYiIc/s72-c/August+2007+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6747814273050665653</id><published>2007-08-29T19:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T19:27:55.917-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Infidelity</title><content type='html'>Blogger, I have a confession... I've been cheating on you. See, someone introduced me to an evil tempter called Facebook and I just can't seem to do anything else these days.  In my few and far between "downtimes" I've been sucked into the Facebook world rather than writing on you, my dear Blog. I miss you and soon the excitement of Facebook will wear off and I will return to you. But in the meantime, I am finding long lost friends, old college buddies, kids that were in the Haven while I worked there (One of whom is married and has step kids and step GRANDKIDS! Yikes!),  learning new things about people I already know, playing games, sending "stickies" , oh the fun that can be had (read: time that can be wasted).&lt;br /&gt;But, I know my fun time will end soon. Work started this week. That means no more time to waste.  I am so sad. Not only for the end to my facebook affair, but also for the end of my relaxed time with my kids everyday.  I enjoy the break from them for a while, but mostly I miss them and wonder what funny new trick I am missing out on.  This week's new trick? Oliver does "cooking shows" which equals him banging on his pots and pans with a spoon and singing songs. Then he takes a bow and cracks up laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I'll return to you soon, my blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6747814273050665653?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6747814273050665653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6747814273050665653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6747814273050665653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6747814273050665653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/08/infidelity.html' title='Infidelity'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6725915814792565241</id><published>2007-08-20T19:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-20T20:02:12.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Memory Monday...I almost forgot to remember!</title><content type='html'>This past weekend we went to one of my favorite places in the whole, wide world. Even if I got to travel the world and got to see every cool and beautiful place, I think this place would still be one of my favorites.  It's a lighthouse and jetty in Scituate. There's something about it that just seems so peaceful and beautiful to me.  Anyway, we took the kids there to play at the beach and so the boys could try to catch hermit crabs.  It got me to thinking about the first time I took Joel there. It was the summer we met - 2001, perhaps. We were on a weekend off from camp and we had just started our official relationship. We walked all the way out to the end of the jetty and sat for a while. The whole time I am wondering when he is going to hold my hand, perfect opportunity with the rough footing and all. Anyway, we talked as only newly dating couples talk - telling stories of our past, sharing deep thoughts, etc. Then, on our walk back I finally bit the bullet and grabbed his hand.   We got our picture taken in front of the lighthouse, our arms draped awkwardly around each other.  I look back at that picture and think how young we were - my hair was still completely brown, for heaven's sake - and how far we have come since then, also how far we have strayed since then.  Not from each other, but from that excitement of falling in love. Sometimes it just seems so mundane, now. I know that is normal, but it's a shame that we can't keep that excitement of just holding hands and talking.  On the other hand, it is wonderful to think how  much more we know about each other now, how much we can communicate without saying anything and how much we have gotten to experience together. How amazing it was to return to this place with our children. Something I only dreamed of before. I remember Joel telling me that day that he was going to marry me, and I thought he was crazy to be so sure, so soon. Little did I know...&lt;br /&gt;  To my readers with spouses: Take some time tonight to think about your first date or special time with your hubby. Remember that feeling of excitement and nervousness and share it with him. You'll both enjoy the memory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6725915814792565241?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6725915814792565241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6725915814792565241' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6725915814792565241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6725915814792565241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/08/memory-mondayi-almost-forgot-to.html' title='Memory Monday...I almost forgot to remember!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2557799958948449433</id><published>2007-08-13T07:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T07:28:36.049-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Introducing...Memory Monday</title><content type='html'>Ok, in an effort to cure my blogger's block, I am starting a new Monday theme. Maybe this will force me to sit down and write at least every Monday.  So, I bring you Memory Monday. Come. Take a trip with me down memory lane...&lt;br /&gt;One of my favorite memories of childhood is camping.  We would usually go to Minuteman KOA (which seemed so far away back then) in Littleton, MA and a place called Papoose Pond Resort in Maine. We had an old pop-up trailer and I remember getting it all packed and ready for our trip. I loved the excitement of loading up the cooler and the car and staking out my place in the "way back" of the station wagon. The momentary stress and anxiety as my parents tried working together to get the camper hitched up to the car. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"To the left more. No your other left!" &lt;/span&gt;) Then the trip in the car which I usually slept through unless I had a friend with me. Then, I'm sure we drove my parents nuts the whole way. Upon arrival at the campground I would immediately begin exploring the area. Are things the same as they were last year? Anything changed? Anyone else here yet? (We would usually go with a bunch of other families)  Our camper was the best. I can still smell the sweet, musty, piney odor. I can hear the door squeak and bang shut. I can feel the warm coziness of my sleeping bag. I can still see my parents in the big bed on the other side of the camper.  I loved when it rained .The plip plop of the drops on the canvas roof was like a lullaby.&lt;br /&gt;The joy of being outside all day and able to get dirty without anyone caring.  Swimming and playing in the water for hours.  Eating fried dough that my mom made and hot dogs and marshmallows cooked on the fire.  Sitting around the fire in the evening, smelling the smoke, hearing the pop and crackle, seeing the sparks float up and then disappear. When I was really little, I was passed around from lap to lap around the fire.  Then I got my own chair and would sit out until I could no longer keep my eyes open. &lt;br /&gt;I am blessed to have had such a great childhood. I hope we can give our kids such great memories like this one. Though, I'm not sure they are ready for camping...yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2557799958948449433?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2557799958948449433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2557799958948449433' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2557799958948449433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2557799958948449433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/08/introducingmemory-monday.html' title='Introducing...Memory Monday'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7507321849950404829</id><published>2007-07-31T18:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T19:15:29.114-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She Strikes Again</title><content type='html'>My oversharing co-worker is at it again. This time she informed me that she recently found out that her 18 year old son is having sex with a 16 year old.  AND that he told his father that he couldn't "get it up". I'm sure the kid would be thrilled to know that his mother is sharing all of this with her co workers.  The conversation went on and on into many details, but I will not repeat the oversharing this time, lest I, too, become guilty.&lt;br /&gt;Thank goodness this is the last week of summer school. I can't say that I have really loved it. It was a nice change of pace to be back in the classroom doing academic stuff with the kids, but these kids(and the teacher) really tried my patience. No offense to anyone who ever had to go to summer school, but these aren't the most motivated students, if you know what I mean. Trying to get them to do anything is like pulling teeth and it is even more frustrating when they can't grasp most of the concepts we are talking about. In our case, phonics, reading, writing, naming the letters, etc.  It makes me totally motivated to start talking about letters and their sounds with Oliver now. Not to pressure him or force him to be some sort of reading prodigy, but just to familiarize him with it now so it is not so difficult when he goes to school.&lt;br /&gt;The big question now is what to do with my month of August. I will have tons of time and not tons of money. I am actually kind of looking forward to just chilling out with the kids, going to the beach and maybe getting my house clean! Then school starts up again after Labor Day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby got a new job. Have I mentioned that yet? Oh, he is like a new man. He loves the job and it totally makes him a much happier person. Money is not much better, but it is worth it for a happy hubby. He is a head custodian at a small private school. He loves taking care of the lawns and doing all the little fix-it projects. Funny, I can't picture it. He doesn't even replace toilet paper at our house. Maybe if I made him wear a uniform and gave him a to-do list he would help out a little more around here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7507321849950404829?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7507321849950404829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7507321849950404829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7507321849950404829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7507321849950404829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/07/she-strikes-again.html' title='She Strikes Again'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7897122345888936381</id><published>2007-07-16T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:33:00.954-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funnest Thing Ever</title><content type='html'>Took the kids to a Family Fun Day yesterday. Lots of fire trucks, police cars, etc. which were a big hit with Oliver, but the best part was the FOAM! The fire dept. set up their foam machine with soap bubbles and sprayed the entire field with foam. I thought it would be cool, but I had no idea how cool! Then they sprayed water from the big ladder truck. Oliver was in heaven. Morgan, not so much. Thank goodness for Grammie so she could watch happily from the sidelines. Here are some pictures:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvS0zIlZHI/AAAAAAAAADo/177yMxa7hK4/s1600-h/family_fun_day_010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvS0zIlZHI/AAAAAAAAADo/177yMxa7hK4/s320/family_fun_day_010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087892008566350962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRszIlZGI/AAAAAAAAADg/ST4eOe1HY5k/s1600-h/family_fun_day_023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRszIlZGI/AAAAAAAAADg/ST4eOe1HY5k/s200/family_fun_day_023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087890771615769698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRsjIlZFI/AAAAAAAAADY/QJcG5sJTrS8/s1600-h/family_fun_day_014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRsjIlZFI/AAAAAAAAADY/QJcG5sJTrS8/s200/family_fun_day_014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087890767320802386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRrTIlZCI/AAAAAAAAADA/3wSmo6fXva0/s1600-h/family_fun_day_008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRrTIlZCI/AAAAAAAAADA/3wSmo6fXva0/s200/family_fun_day_008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087890745845965858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRrzIlZDI/AAAAAAAAADI/8PtQmrNY1fM/s1600-h/family_fun_day_007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvRrzIlZDI/AAAAAAAAADI/8PtQmrNY1fM/s200/family_fun_day_007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087890754435900466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7897122345888936381?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7897122345888936381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7897122345888936381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7897122345888936381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7897122345888936381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/07/funnest-thing-ever.html' title='Funnest Thing Ever'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RpvS0zIlZHI/AAAAAAAAADo/177yMxa7hK4/s72-c/family_fun_day_010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-3683916343973905405</id><published>2007-07-12T21:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T21:20:59.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Information  Defined</title><content type='html'>I'm working for the summer school program this month and one of the women I work with is a complete over-sharer.  Every day she has some sort of story or complaint to share and it is always of a very personal and very uncomfortable nature.  Today her story was about how heavy her period is. Oh my gosh, what do you say in response to that?! Yesterday, it was her woes of finding shirts that fit her because her boobs are so huge. "Well, the tighter the better according to my husband, you know." Ick. Menopause, hormones, arthritis, extreme sweating - the list goes on.&lt;br /&gt;So, my internet friends, how do I respond to this woman? So far my response has been along the lines of smiling and nodding on the outside and squirming and gagging on the inside. I just want to put my fingers in my ears and hum.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-3683916343973905405?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/3683916343973905405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=3683916343973905405' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3683916343973905405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3683916343973905405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/07/too-much-information-defined.html' title='Too Much Information  Defined'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7805865350163568315</id><published>2007-07-12T21:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T21:11:26.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weaning Made Simple</title><content type='html'>Morgan is officially done nursing as of Tuesday night.  Recently, I have only been nursing her at night before she goes to bed. It's kind of our special time together. Well, Tuesday night she decided to make that time even more "special" by biting my nipples repeatedly. Ummm...ouch! The first time she did it, I gently took her off my breast, said "All done" and put her in her crib. She wanted none of that - screamed until  I gave her another try.  She took a little nip at me to see if that was what caused me to take her away and I did it again. Convinced that that was the cause of her problems she proceeded to nurse properly for a few minutes. I gave myself a little pat on the back for handling it the right way thinking the problem was solved and then she CHOMPED down. I screamed "NO!" and put her in her bed again.  I thought I was going to have blood gushing down my chest - it hurt that bad.  Thus the nursing is done. She whined for it tonight while I was putting them down for bed and I told her Mommy's milk is all gone. I was kind of sad. Not sad enough to put my nipples in danger again, though. &lt;br /&gt;After almost two years straight of nursing, it feels kind of strange. Maybe it's time for another baby....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7805865350163568315?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7805865350163568315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7805865350163568315' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7805865350163568315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7805865350163568315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/07/weaning-made-simple.html' title='Weaning Made Simple'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-1664721954343765473</id><published>2007-05-29T09:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:33:02.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>It seems like the kids' birthday party was ages ago and I am finally getting around to blogging about it. Both kids are taking a morning nap right now.  A rare and greatly treasured treat for me. So, rather than clean house and wash dishes I am spending my time with you, faithful blog readers. (I do have faithful blog readers, right?) Anyway, the b-day was pretty good.  The cakes came out great:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw7VY-uKFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/T8aFph3bwpY/s1600-h/Morgan+Cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw7VY-uKFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/T8aFph3bwpY/s320/Morgan+Cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069992519181150290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw7Vo-uKGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Fu6lVsGosm8/s1600-h/Oliver+Cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw7Vo-uKGI/AAAAAAAAACY/Fu6lVsGosm8/s320/Oliver+Cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069992523476117602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our sweet little Morgan gave her guests the unwelcome gift of throwing up all over the place during the party. She was really not feeling well and slept most of the day. Oliver was psyched to get all of the attention.  Other than that we had a good time and the kids got completely spoiled. Here are some more pictures:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82I-uKHI/AAAAAAAAACg/jn5_7eyVffE/s1600-h/New+Bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82I-uKHI/AAAAAAAAACg/jn5_7eyVffE/s200/New+Bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069994181333493874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's Oliver opening his new bike from Nana and Papa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82Y-uKII/AAAAAAAAACo/Sl6UGQPAe6k/s1600-h/Blow.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82Y-uKII/AAAAAAAAACo/Sl6UGQPAe6k/s200/Blow.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069994185628461186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blowing out the candles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82o-uKKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Br9lRddGM7E/s1600-h/morgan6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82o-uKKI/AAAAAAAAAC4/Br9lRddGM7E/s200/morgan6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069994189923428514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82Y-uKJI/AAAAAAAAACw/v2SL6fL55WU/s1600-h/morgan1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw82Y-uKJI/AAAAAAAAACw/v2SL6fL55WU/s200/morgan1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069994185628461202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And, our Morgan in happier times after the party. Enjoying Oliver's truck and her new baby.  Love the pigtails!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-1664721954343765473?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/1664721954343765473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=1664721954343765473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1664721954343765473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/1664721954343765473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/05/birthday-party.html' title='Birthday Party'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/Rlw7VY-uKFI/AAAAAAAAACQ/T8aFph3bwpY/s72-c/Morgan+Cake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2864408682534214711</id><published>2007-05-02T06:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T07:11:16.549-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smorgasbord</title><content type='html'>Is that how you spell that? I don' t know, but you know what I mean. I have alot to share today and none of it is really related. I'll start with this -I think I have a prediction for the last Harry Potter book. I have been rereading all of the books since Joel got them for me for my birthday and I can't wait to read the next one. I've been doing alot of thinking about Snape. Is he good or evil? He certainly seems to hate Harry, that is for sure, but he is always saving his butt somehow.  I think that it is possible that Snape may sacrifice himself for Harry in the next book.  I am pretty sure that someone has to die in order to defeat Voldemort and it is supposed to be Harry, but I think Snape is somehow going to save him again and end up sacrificing his own life.  I don't know, I'm not fully convinced, but it is a theory.  You heard it here first...&lt;br /&gt;I also have a couple funny Oliver stories. I bought some Pirate's Booty at the grocery store thinking that it would be a good, healthier snack for the kids.  Oliver loves it and calls it "booby" which is funny in itself. But, even funnier was that he was sitting at the table having his booty the other day and I was puttering around the apartment not really paying attention to him when I heard him saying "shake, shake, shake". I asked him what he was doing and he said "shake booby" . The kid was shaking his booty!!! How he made the connection between that booty and his other booty that gets shaken, I don't know, but it was funny. Funny enough for me to get the video camera out and get some footage of the booty shaking. While I had the camera out I decided to try and get him to say some of his funniest words so I did a little interview with him. I was asking him all sorts of questions and then I asked him what daddy's name is. He replied, "Joel." Then I asked, "What is mommy's name?" He replied, "Mommy". I rephrased it this way, "How does daddy call mommy?" His response?? "HEY!"  The kid is too much!&lt;br /&gt;We have the big birthday bash coming up this weekend. Should be fun. I feel like I should go through the toys and purge now so that we have room for all the other toys that will be coming our way.  I'm curious to see how Miss Morgan will handle the singing and presents and general chaos that will be the day. I know Oliver will love it!  We got Morgan a Cabbage Patch Kid.  When we were at the store buying it, I kept thinking back to how hard it was to get one when I was a kid. We had to wait in lines and get numbers and go into the special back room at Bradlee's which was stacked floor to ceiling with CPKs. Now, there are barely any on the shelf and if you ask me, they aren't nearly as cute as the old school ones. We got Morgan a baby one so it is cute.&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of the party should be posted next week - if I can get my act together and do it!!  Oh, and by the way, it is 8:10 am and I still haven't heard a peep from the kids. I have already showered, done my quiet time, taken out the trash and blogged! How sweet it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2864408682534214711?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2864408682534214711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2864408682534214711' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2864408682534214711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2864408682534214711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/05/smorgasbord.html' title='Smorgasbord'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-3750457471423230485</id><published>2007-04-18T05:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T06:04:37.921-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Early</title><content type='html'>I have been trying to wake up with Joel at 5:30/6:00 each morning so that I can get some stuff done while the kids are still sleeping. Most of the time it works out great. I have just enough time to take a shower and sometimes even get my Bible study/quiet time done.  It is so frustrating though when they wake up early, too. Then I am up early AND not getting anything done which is a bummer.  Today they are cooperating nicely. I am glad to get the chance to blog in peace - though it is a bit too early for me to put my thoughts together coherently.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make a recording of Oliver and put it on here so those of you who don't get to see him can hear him talking. Oh man, is it the cutest.  I love, love, love that we can have a conversation now. And hearing him say "I love you" (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;roo roo&lt;/span&gt;) melts my heart. Even though I have to ask him to say it.  It's still meaningful even though it is totally prompted.  He is such a good boy. He asks to go down for his nap, he shares with his sister...he is just full of goodness. Fear not, he does have his two year old moments, lest anyone with kids feels jealous.  (Does that sentence make sense? My 6:30 am brain can't quite grasp it.)   His sister on the other hand is full of something else. I love her to bits and pieces, but wow, she is a princess through and through.  She wants her way or no way. And she'll let you know loud and clear. Her latest thing is that she no longer wants to eat baby food. My baby no longer wants to eat baby food.  If she even sees me with the jar and spoon in hand she starts crying and shaking her head.  I have tried to trick her by putting the food in a bowl and she takes one bite and then screams and shakes her head. Ok, I get it, no more baby food. The problem is, though, that she won't eat much other food either. Don't even try to give her anything slightly mooshy or cold. She picks it up and promptly throws it on the floor. She loves toast and bread, but put a little jelly on it and off to the floor it goes.  I feel like I am wasting more food than ever. Wish I could make a little care package for all those starving kids in China that I have heard so much about in my lifetime. But, all of that stuff aside, you should see this girl. She is the most beautiful little thing. She was sleeping on the couch at my mom's yesterday and all I could do was just look at her and admire her. She is so tiny and perfect. Her eye lashes are about a mile long (just like her brother's) and her eyes are so blue. I don't know how anyone can have a child and doubt that God exists. Only God can create something so miraculous. And, she loves to play. She can be in mid-tantrum and if  I start doing "This Little Piggy" she instantly stops and smiles. She could do that all day, I think.  She  loves Oliver and I think has a bit of separation anxiety with him.  She crawls as fast as her little arms and legs will let her  just to keep up with him.   I just love my kids.  I don't know why I am feeling so sentimental about them just now. I think it is because of this massacre at Virginia Tech and the reminder that it has given me that life is precious and it could end anytime.  Man, I was so emotional watching that memorial service yesterday. I couldn't figure out why. But then it hit me - it could've been me. That could have happened any where to anyone. It was completely random.  I just kept thinking, What if that had happened at Wheaton? College seems like such a safe place to me (At least it did to me inside the Wheaton Bubble), a place where you can  test out your wings, so to speak.  And the relationships that are made there are some of  the closest you will have.  What if all of that was shattered? What if one of my closest friends died? Ugh, I just feel for those students and families.  What  a  tragedy.  And the family of the shooter, how must they feel? It's not their fault, but they must feel tremendous guilt and feel like literally the whole country hates them. I hope someone reaches out to them - they lost a kid, too.&lt;br /&gt;Whew, I guess I am rather verbose at this hour of the morning. Hope you are not totally bored.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-3750457471423230485?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/3750457471423230485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=3750457471423230485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3750457471423230485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/3750457471423230485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/04/too-early.html' title='Too Early'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6711990800156524308</id><published>2007-03-26T19:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:33:03.999-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Have I Done?</title><content type='html'>Oliver is now in the stage of being able to repeat almost anything you ask him to say. Some things he catches on to pretty quickly and others he will repeat and forget unless prompted to say them again. Some things he comes up with on his own - completely shocking all of us. One of these shockers is "pot holder" - what other almost two year old says that on a regular basis? Looking for a great gift for his birthday? He LOVES potholders; uses them correctly, too. Anyway, a while back I was playing with him and grabbing his cute little baby bum as he was running away. I told him I was getting his butt cheeks, which he quickly repeated. Word to the wise, if your child repeats something that you do not want him to say to other people, don't laugh!! No matter how cute it is! I made the mistake of laughing and having him say it to daddy, grammie ,aunts, uncles, you name it...now when I am on the phone, he thinks it is hilarious to put his mouth up to the receiver and say butt cheek repeatedly. I am just praying that he doesn't do it to his Nana. She won't laugh. Also, I had to spank him the other day while I was changing him because he was kicking and squirming. So, I swatted him on the butt and he starts laughing saying, "Butt cheek, spank, spank. Butt cheek, spank, spank." I had to turn away and laugh. So, now I am trying to teach him not to say it all the time, especially on the phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely unrelated note, here are a few recent pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpZ5bFTnI/AAAAAAAAABs/BfTtn1amuvc/s1600-h/funnyoliver1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpZ5bFTnI/AAAAAAAAABs/BfTtn1amuvc/s320/funnyoliver1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046399276100701810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpaJbFToI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2gEY0Xxm9gE/s1600-h/morganolivercar1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpaJbFToI/AAAAAAAAAB0/2gEY0Xxm9gE/s320/morganolivercar1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046399280395669122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpaZbFTpI/AAAAAAAAAB8/vHwdZtt76o8/s1600-h/morganolivercar2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpaZbFTpI/AAAAAAAAAB8/vHwdZtt76o8/s320/morganolivercar2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046399284690636434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpapbFTqI/AAAAAAAAACE/CT8b9HPH19Y/s1600-h/boots.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpapbFTqI/AAAAAAAAACE/CT8b9HPH19Y/s320/boots.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046399288985603746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6711990800156524308?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6711990800156524308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6711990800156524308' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6711990800156524308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6711990800156524308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/03/what-have-i-done.html' title='What Have I Done?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RghpZ5bFTnI/AAAAAAAAABs/BfTtn1amuvc/s72-c/funnyoliver1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-2718864032666561266</id><published>2007-03-12T19:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T19:37:29.730-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anal or Just Organized?</title><content type='html'>So, I told you I'd write about my "issues" with putting toys away... just before Christmas we got a bin shelf ( I don't really know what it is called officially, but it is a shelf with little plastic bins on it) and I am obsessed with making sure that the toys go in the proper bins. The Weebles are in one, the Little People in another, the play food takes up two bins, etc. Anyway, it drives me NUTS when the toys are mixed in with each other or when they are just in a big pile on the play mat.   I'm not sure why. I am not really like this with anything else in the house, I mean, things do have their places and  I try to keep them there, but I don't get as annoyed when other things are out of place. I don't know, I think it makes it easier for the babes to find the toys they want and to know where to put them away if we can convince them to do that.  But, even in the midst of playtime I find myself putting things back in their proper bins. Morgan likes to take things out and put them back in, so she is constantly taking the Weebles out and putting them in with the Little People.  So, I find myself compelled to put them back in with the rest of the Weebles. Am I teaching my children racism? ("Weebles and Little People cannot live in harmony with each other in the same bin!") Oh, and another thing that I was doing (that has since stopped - must have been a phase) was putting away the Little People zoo animals in alphabetical order. You see, there is one animal for each letter and I did it the first time just to make sure we had them all and then I found that I had to do it that way every time.  I agree, that is pretty anal. I'm glad I have stopped that.&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am thinking of it, I must go and make sure the Weebles and the Little People are not mixed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-2718864032666561266?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/2718864032666561266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=2718864032666561266' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2718864032666561266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/2718864032666561266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/03/anal-or-just-organized.html' title='Anal or Just Organized?'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-6038646105180758628</id><published>2007-03-03T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-03T17:31:19.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Are You Kidding Me??</title><content type='html'>So, I have been holed up in my bedroom for about 45 minutes for some "alone time". Joel thought I was napping, but I have been online for a while, just enjoying the peace and uninterruption. I had just started this blog when Joel opened the bedroom door and asked me to change Oliver's diaper! Keep in mind, he thought I was sleeping! Ummm....sometimes I wonder about that man... Now both babies are crying for me, the peace is over. And I was just getting psyched to write a big old Blog entry. I guess now it will have to wait again. Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-6038646105180758628?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/6038646105180758628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=6038646105180758628' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6038646105180758628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/6038646105180758628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/03/are-you-kidding-me.html' title='Are You Kidding Me??'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-7959786186891284156</id><published>2007-02-18T20:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:33:05.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Florida</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFpjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rX_Bd4IXriE/s1600-h/Florida+2007+064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFpjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rX_Bd4IXriE/s320/Florida+2007+064.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033067026827290162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKgmjFpeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vfV39yc-sjk/s1600-h/Florida+2007+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKgmjFpeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/vfV39yc-sjk/s320/Florida+2007+035.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033065613783049698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKg2jFpfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/HkChKlCeYtQ/s1600-h/Florida+2007+040.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKg2jFpfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/HkChKlCeYtQ/s320/Florida+2007+040.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033065618078017010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKg2jFpgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Wu3yUB8qEUQ/s1600-h/Florida+2007+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKg2jFpgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/Wu3yUB8qEUQ/s320/Florida+2007+054.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033065618078017026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKg2jFphI/AAAAAAAAAAk/nDCbYvBeIMM/s1600-h/Florida+2007+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKg2jFphI/AAAAAAAAAAk/nDCbYvBeIMM/s320/Florida+2007+055.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033065618078017042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKhGjFpiI/AAAAAAAAAAs/CuicmWW79yk/s1600-h/Florida+2007+060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkKhGjFpiI/AAAAAAAAAAs/CuicmWW79yk/s320/Florida+2007+060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033065622372984354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We had a fantastic time in Florida! Despite cool weather and various illnesses (mine, mostly) we ended up enjoying ourselves and feeling rested. The highlight of the trip for me was getting to spend time with my college roommate and her family. We had not seen each other in almost four years!  Again, the weather wasn't ideal, but we had a great time catching up and getting to know each other's kids.  We mostly spent time at the beach, not in the water, though, and in the pool at the house we were at. It was heated, so it was nice while you were in it, but getting out was pure torture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have decided that vacations are great, but getting ready to leave and coming home at the end of the trip are too stressful for me. Almost not worth the vacation itself. We always have some sort of catastrophe upon our arrival home. Last time we went to Florida, we came home to a house that had problems with the heat while we were gone and many of Joel's pet frogs ( yes, frogs) were dead!  Oh, and our rent check had bounced because Joel's work didn't pay him for his vacation time.  This year we were greeted with a flat tire! Nothing better than a flat tire after a long day of traveling with two children under two! We ended up having to get two new tires put on the car in order for it to pass inspection. Sweet! And, I ended up sick again when we got home. I had a major ear infection before we left and now I have bronchitis.  The joys of working in the school system. I hope all these things run their course quickly. I am so done with being sick!  I just don't have time for it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFplI/AAAAAAAAABE/JTg_9VlPkUI/s1600-h/Florida+115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFplI/AAAAAAAAABE/JTg_9VlPkUI/s320/Florida+115.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033067026827290194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                    Here's me the last time we were in Florida. Preggers with Oliver.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFpkI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4cFUn813eoo/s1600-h/Florida+2007+110.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFpkI/AAAAAAAAAA8/4cFUn813eoo/s320/Florida+2007+110.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033067026827290178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                Look at us now!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that was our trip. Next time I will tell you about how anal I have become about putting away my children's toys. Oh, and about how Joel has mentioned twice in the last few days about wanting child number three...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-7959786186891284156?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/7959786186891284156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=7959786186891284156' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7959786186891284156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/7959786186891284156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/02/florida.html' title='Florida'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/RdkLy2jFpjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rX_Bd4IXriE/s72-c/Florida+2007+064.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-117026282858943609</id><published>2007-01-31T11:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T12:00:28.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Here</title><content type='html'>Ok, first off, my apologies to my readers (do I have any readers?) for my lack of blogging lately. It's not that I have nothing to say, I guess I just have not been able to find the time to write. One would think that having Joel around would make it easier for me to find some time for myself. Well, one would be WRONG!  It's more like having 3 kids to take care of.  I've decided that it is not appropriate to whine about my husband on this blog - but if it was, whew, this would be a long blog. This winter layoff thing is killing us.  OK, enough about that. Ok, one little whine...why can't he replace the toilet paper roll?&lt;br /&gt;   We're gearing up for  our trip to Florida next week. Can't hardly wait for that.  I am beyond excited to  play with Oliver and Morgan at the beach and in the pool.  It is going to be a blast. I will try to post some pictures when we get back - or maybe while we are there if we decide to bring the computer.  I bought  a bathing suit the other day. Holy expensive, Batman. But, I guess it was worth it. Hopefully I won't need to buy one again for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;     I watched Morgan fall asleep lastnight. There is nothing cuter than that. She was fighting it so hard. Her little eyes would flutter shut and then pop back open to make sure I was still standing there. Finally she succumbed to her tiredness. Ahhhh...peace for a while. She did pretty well lastnight. Only woke up twice. Once at 12:30 and once at 4:00.  Especially good since I am battling a cold and need as much rest as I can get.  Hopefully our trip won't throw her off again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-117026282858943609?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/117026282858943609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=117026282858943609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/117026282858943609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/117026282858943609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/01/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m Still Here'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116848191079492031</id><published>2007-01-10T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-10T21:18:30.806-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies When You're Having Kids</title><content type='html'>I was looking through all the pictures we have stored on our computer tonight. I can't believe how much the babies have changed in such a short time!  When you have a baby, people always say to cherish every moment because it goes by so fast. When you are in the moment you think that it can't go that fast, but then you look back and you think, where did the time go ? Wasn't it just yesterday that I was cradling my little Oliver in my arms and rocking him to sleep? Now we are playing pretend and having conversations! And isn't Morgan still supposed to be a tiny newborn? Now she is crawling, and teething and pulling herself up.  Next thing you know they'll be talking on the phone and getting their licenses!  Oh man... So really, when people tell you to cherish every moment, do it!  It really does go so fast. Sometimes I want to freeze time and keep them just the way the are now (minus the waking up during the night). On the other hand, I can't wait to see the next stages and how my babies will be when they grow up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116848191079492031?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116848191079492031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116848191079492031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116848191079492031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116848191079492031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/01/time-flies-when-youre-having-kids.html' title='Time Flies When You&apos;re Having Kids'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116801712348676078</id><published>2007-01-05T12:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-05T12:12:03.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back To Life...Back To Reality</title><content type='html'>So, I'm working now.  First week under my belt. I still haven't come to terms with the fact that I have to go there every day. Working sucks. The job is fine, it's the leaving my babies that is the hard part. &lt;br /&gt;Christmas was great. Oliver got so many gifts from the assorted grandparents that he actually got to the point where he refused to open any more.  He loved his play food and has been cooking up a storm. Morgan has become completely mobile in the past month. She is scooting all over the apartment. Still no teeth, though. I remember waiting a while for Oliver's teeth to appear, too.&lt;br /&gt;We have this new laptop and I am having a hard time adjusting to it. I don't like typing on it at all. And, the pictures from christmas are all on the other computer. So, I'll try to get them up here sometime soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116801712348676078?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116801712348676078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116801712348676078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116801712348676078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116801712348676078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2007/01/back-to-lifeback-to-reality.html' title='Back To Life...Back To Reality'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116697371686962804</id><published>2006-12-24T10:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-24T10:25:35.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Princess Sleeps...sometimes</title><content type='html'>Since Morgan was born, my dad has taken to calling her the Princess. Well, she certainly is living up to that these days. Little Miss refuses to sleep unless she is rocked, bounced or otherwise cuddled. Sometimes she refuses to sleep unless she is in my arms or in my bed next to me. Me only...not daddy or anyone else.  And if she is in the bed with me, she has to be touching me somehow. At the moment she is laying here next to me on the bed (we got a new laptop from Joel's dad) sound asleep right up against my leg. I know, I know, someday I will miss my little girl all snuggled up close to me, snoring her little baby snores, her fingers twitching...but right now, oh man, I could use a good night's sleep.  I have been sick for what feels like weeks now. Colds, conjunctivitis (yuck!) and now a strange itchy rash-type thing on my fingers. I'm sure all these maladies would be cured with a few nights of uninterrupted sleep. I know what you are thinking, "Just get Joel to take over for a few nights." Ah, if only it was that easy. One - Morgan cries even harder if the person picking her up from her crib is not Mama, and escalates until Mama is fetched and she is placed in her arms, at which point she stops crying immediately and snuggles in and falls asleep. And B- Joel is pretty much comatose at night and  doesn't really function well if he is awakened . Sometimes I fear for the children's safety when Joel is tending to them in his mid-night state. Most of the time he has no recollection of what happens, too.  So, I am awake the whole time anyway making sure he doesn't put the baby in fridge and tuck the milk into bed or something strange like that.  Anyway, any advice would be lovely for getting the princess to sleep all by herself.&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116697371686962804?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116697371686962804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116697371686962804' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116697371686962804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116697371686962804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/12/princess-sleepssometimes.html' title='The Princess Sleeps...sometimes'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116648680937827050</id><published>2006-12-18T18:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T19:06:49.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Third Time's the Charm</title><content type='html'>So, after three applications and three interviews, I finally got a job! Hooray!! I'll be working for an after school program in the town I grew up in. The hours are great (2-6 most days) and the pay is good, too. I am so looking forward to being able to pay all of our bills with no problem. I just wish I had some of that money now so that we could pay our rent this month...&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I am ready for Christmas. All my shopping is done except for my gift for my parents which is turning into quite a project. I am trying to make an appointment to get a professional picture taken of all of their grandchildren. Hard to coordinate with 4 families and find an open appointment. It is looking like Saturday is going to be our best bet. Cutting it a little close if you ask me. Oliver and Morgan opened their first stocking gifts today. We are carrying on a tradition from Joel's family of opening one stocking gift a day for the week leading up to Christmas. Fun for the kids and good for me because I cannot wait for Christmas morning. I might be tempted to let them open all their gifts early otherwise.  I think I enjoy the anticipation of seeing someone open the gift I got them more than opening my own gifts. Especially my kids. I just can't wait to see Oliver's face when he opens his giant set of play food or his stuffed Elmo that Grammie got him.  Ugh - can't I just give it to him now?!&lt;br /&gt;This Christmas season has been great with Oliver being a little older now. He can really understand and participate. And with Morgan here now,  I just feel like our little family is complete. While we were decorating our tree, I almost cried with joy because of my sweet little family. We had Christmas music playing, Joel was stringing the lights, Oliver was placing ornaments in the tree, Morgan was playing contentedly in her Exersaucer. It was so Norman Rockwell.&lt;br /&gt;Best Christmas season moment thus far: Oliver kissing the Christmas tree goodbye when he was going out with my sister for a while. He's too much!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116648680937827050?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116648680937827050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116648680937827050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116648680937827050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116648680937827050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/12/third-times-charm.html' title='Third Time&apos;s the Charm'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116533072118819854</id><published>2006-12-05T09:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T09:58:41.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicago Recap</title><content type='html'>We had a good time in Chicago. 2 weeks was definitely too long, though. On one hand , it was good that the kids were able to settle into a routine and get to know their aunt, uncle and cousins very well, but it was a LONG time to be away from home.  The kids did so well on the plane that I am actually looking forward to flying again with them. ( February to Florida. Merry Christmas to us!!)  We had a nice mix of down time and busy time while we were there. Our hosts worked alot, so we had that time to chill at their house, also known as Junk Food Central, and play video games while the kids were sleeping.  We went to the aquarium and the zoo (twice) and that was so fun, especially since Oliver is old enough to enjoy it now. &lt;br /&gt;I will say, though, that it is so hard being a guest at someone's house, especially when it is your in-laws and there is that weird in-law dynamic.  My MIL and two SILs talked (read:guilted) me into going shopping with them at 4am on Black friday. There 's a reason it's called Black Friday. I think the closest thing to Hell that I have experienced is standing in line at the world's smallest K.B. Toys with about a million people around me at 7am. Not worth the buy2 get 1 free Fisher Price toys if you ask me. I will NEVER do that again. I think I would rather spend the full price on something than get up that early and fight the crowds. Ugh - I am not a shopper anyway. I have to really be in the mood and that is rare.  When I do my Christmas shopping, I have to know exactly what I am getting and where I am getting it. Then I get in and get out.  My family this year has decided to do  some homemade gifts. I do believe that I have come up with the best homemade gift idea. I have made  fabric covered bulletin boards, criss-crossed with  ribbon. They are  so cute, so easy and so cheap (shhh..don't tell) .  5 gifts crossed off with these beauties!  Woo Hoo! My biggest dilemma is what to get for my hubby. He has mentioned a bunch of things, but  I like to come up with something really thoughtful. So far, I haven't thought of anything fun - just boring things.  I did have a great idea, but then I realized it was what I wanted, not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I will try to be a better Blogger now that we are home and settled in. I promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116533072118819854?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116533072118819854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116533072118819854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116533072118819854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116533072118819854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/12/chicago-recap.html' title='Chicago Recap'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116420673421877386</id><published>2006-11-22T09:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-22T09:45:34.230-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Help!</title><content type='html'>I'm stuck in in-law land. Be back soon...I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116420673421877386?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116420673421877386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116420673421877386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116420673421877386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116420673421877386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/11/help.html' title='Help!'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116286134540534745</id><published>2006-11-06T19:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T20:11:44.586-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lots to Talk About</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Part 1&lt;/strong&gt; For the past two weeks, my babies have been runny, coughing, phlegmy, all around slimy kids. We ALL had this cold, but with the kids it is hanging on FOREVER. We took them both to the doctor today because Morgan has not been sleeping well and I kind of suspected an ear infection. Since we will be flying next week (more on that in a minute) I wanted to make sure all was well. I expected the doc to tell us that Oliver was fine and we just need to wait it out with him and that Morgan had the infection and needed antibiotics since she seems worse to me. It was just the opposite!!! Oliver has an infection in both ears and Morgan's are totally clear. Good thing we brought them both. Anyway, she recommended some over the counter stuff to help with the runny noses and coughing. Apparently there is a new law here in MA (not sure if it is everywhere) that limits the amount of products containing psuedoephedrine you can buy at one time. I went to the store to pick up Oliver's prescription and the Children's Motrin Cold. The Motrin was behind the counter in the front of the store and they wouldn't let me pay for it at the pharmacy counter. So, I went to pay for the Motrin first and also picked up some Nyquil for Joel who is still coughing a bit, too. I had to show ID and sign a form in order to get the Motrin and then they wouldn't let me buy the Nyquil because that exceeded the limit for psuedoephedrine. So what are people supposed to do when everyone in their famliy has a cold and needs medicine? I guess they do what we did - go to another store and buy the Nyquil there. Could it be any more difficult for sick parents with sick kids? It's not like the people who are buying this stuff to make meth (which is what I learned when I questioned the poor CVS girl who was just doing her job) will be thwarted by these guidelines anyway. They will just go from store to store instead of getting it all at once. It just makes life more difficult for good, upstanding, law abiding citizens like me. &lt;strong&gt;Part 2&lt;/strong&gt; We went to a friend's wedding on saturday night. It was so much fun! I got to see alot of people I have not seen in a long time. People I spent a whole lot of time with in high school. It was so fun to think back to all those times. Just seeing these people again made me smile. Plus, it is always nice to go to a wedding when you feel very happy for the couple. I mean, you always are happy for them - who doesn't love a wedding? - but I think this couple is really great and I care so much about my friend that I was just so happy to see him so happy. Know what I mean? The funny part is - there was a time that I thought I was going to marry this guy. Pretty much all through high school and part of college I thought for sure he was The One.  I'm glad things have worked out the way they have. We're both happy and that's what is important. I did have some strange dreams about this wedding. I don't know why. Nothing happened that happened in my dreams, though. I didn't cry every time he kissed his wife and my bridesmaid dress did not get stuck in an escaltor and get ripped off my body. Sometimes I wonder about myself...   &lt;strong&gt;Part 3 &lt;/strong&gt;We're going to Chicago next week for two weeks to visit the in-laws.  I have mixed feelings. I am looking forward to seeing them and to them seeing the kids. Some of them have not ever seen Morgan and have only seen Oliver twice. So, it will be nice for the kids to connect with Daddy's side of the family. But &lt;em&gt;two weeks, &lt;/em&gt;man that is a long time. What will we do with ourselves for two weeks with no car and no money in Chicago? Any advice on flying with kids? How about on flying with a kid with an ear infection? Should be a blast...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116286134540534745?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116286134540534745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116286134540534745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116286134540534745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116286134540534745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/11/lots-to-talk-about.html' title='Lots to Talk About'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116256984080724930</id><published>2006-11-03T10:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T11:04:00.820-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Luxury</title><content type='html'>I hope you are all still alive after the deluge of cuteness in the last post.  Guess what I did today? I painted my nails! Fingers and toes! I haven't done that in...hmmm...a long time. Maybe close to two years! (Wait, I take that back, I did get manicured and pedicured once during each pregnancy) But today I did it myself. Managed to get both kids down at once. Well, in their beds at least. (Oliver is still whimpering in his crib.)  They look pretty good, too. We are going to a wedding tomorrow and I am so excited to get dressed up and go out without spit up or snot on my clothes. I might even do my hair, too. I'll let  you know about that one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116256984080724930?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116256984080724930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116256984080724930' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116256984080724930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116256984080724930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/11/luxury.html' title='Luxury'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116247349760312422</id><published>2006-11-02T08:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-02T08:18:17.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He's a Giraffe</title><content type='html'>Halloween was fun. We went to Scituate Harbor with the cousins and their friends. That is the best place to trick-or-treat, if you ask me. They close the whole street down and the stores and shops hand out candy.  Fun and safe!  If I do say so myself, my cherubs were so darn cute. I couldn't stop looking at them and laughing at the cuteness. I'm thinking next year I might dress them as a bride and groom. Is that too weird?  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Warning: don't look at these pictures too long - you might die from the cuteness...really. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/509/40/1600/Halloween%205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/509/40/320/Halloween%205.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/509/40/1600/Halloween%203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/509/40/320/Halloween%203.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but think back to my trick-or-treat days and how they were so much different. I would get together with a big group of friends and wander the whole neighborhood, going to every single house.  Things were so much more innocent then. Not as much worry about kids wandering around alone, going into people's homes, literally taking candy from strangers.   Never in a million years would I let my kids do that now.  But, back then that feeling of freedom and independence was the best.  What are your favorite halloween memories?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I was sorely lacking in the creative costume department.  I always thought I was creative, but it never amounted to anything. I always ended up as a baby or something easy and boring. I always envied my friends who were super creative and fun. I remember one year, I had a friend who dressed up as a tomato. That was funny. What was your best Halloween costume?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116247349760312422?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116247349760312422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116247349760312422' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116247349760312422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116247349760312422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/11/hes-giraffe.html' title='He&apos;s a Giraffe'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116196210636581898</id><published>2006-10-27T10:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-27T10:15:06.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Day</title><content type='html'>I think one of the hardest things about being a stay at home mom is that you never get a sick day! I could really use a sick day today. Sore throat, headache, tired, cough, runny nose...the whole nine. I wish I could just lay in bed all day with a cup of tea and a book, dozing off when I feel the need, only to be awakened when I have to go to the bathroom.  HA!!! Reality is that I woke up with Morgan at 6, fell back asleep with her at 7, woke up again with both at 8:30, now they are napping and I need to fold laundry and put away some toys, then they will wake up and need to eat and want to play and listen to Raffi. &lt;em&gt;(By the way, Nathan, if you are reading this, we have been listening to Banana-phone these days and it makes me miss you so much it hurts.)&lt;/em&gt; Ugh, and it won't be much easier when hubby gets home either. There's dinner and clean up and baths and bedtime and more cleaning. He's not the most helpful these days.  But that's a whole other blog in itself...&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, any ideas on how to keep an 18 month old and a 5 month old occupied while I lay on the couch and wallow in this cold?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116196210636581898?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116196210636581898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116196210636581898' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116196210636581898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116196210636581898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/10/sick-day.html' title='Sick Day'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116170298606134243</id><published>2006-10-24T10:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T10:16:26.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Kid Again</title><content type='html'>Do you have people in your life that instantly transport you back to your childhood whenever you are with them? I do. I am reading a book in which the main character talks about a friend that always makes him feel 8 years old and it made me think of the people in my life that make me feel this way.  It's the good kind of feeling like a kid, not the "You're only 8 and you don't know anything" kind - which I have plenty of also, especially being the youngest.  Anyway, my grampa was one of those people and so are my godparents.  My grampa always made me feel like a little girl again. I loved the way he would always refer to me with either a nickname (ReeBee, Baccala or Pooh to name a few)  or my full name,  never Becka which is what everyone else calls me.  And he would try to get me with the same jokes and stories that he did so many years ago.   I miss him terribly and I wish my kids had the chance to meet him and hear the stories and jokes.&lt;br /&gt;Also, my godparents, good old Auntie Flo and Uncle Frank. I never fail to feel like a little girl when I am in their presence.  Even when I introduced them to my husband and my children. The first time they saw Oliver I felt like saying "Look what I made! Don't you want to hang him on your fridge for everyone to see?"  I love that my Auntie Flo works in the nursery and takes care of my babies while I am at bible study. To see Morgan asleep on her lap, in the same way that I was so many years ago is amazing and wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it is good to feel like a kid again. I wonder who those special people will be in Oliver and Morgan's lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116170298606134243?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116170298606134243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116170298606134243' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116170298606134243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116170298606134243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/10/kid-again.html' title='A Kid Again'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116118420653582241</id><published>2006-10-18T10:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T10:10:06.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning House</title><content type='html'>You know when you are having company and it inspires super-human cleaning power? You clean and de-clutter and dust and sweep and scrub so that your company is fooled into thinking that your house always looks like this.  Well, I'm feeling this way about my blog this week. I got an e-mail telling me that my kiddos and my blog are going to be featured in the Fabulous Friday over at &lt;a href="http://playgroupdropout.clubmom.com/"&gt;Diary Of a Playgroup Dropout&lt;/a&gt;. Basically there will be a little blurb about us, some pictures and a link to this blog.  I'm excited. (It's the little things, people!!) But, I feel this incredible pressure now to make my blog interesting and witty and worthy of millions of comments so that I feel loved. So, if you have any suggestions for how to improve my blog before Friday, let me know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116118420653582241?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116118420653582241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116118420653582241' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116118420653582241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116118420653582241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/10/cleaning-house.html' title='Cleaning House'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116111293065660688</id><published>2006-10-17T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T09:59:28.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Torn</title><content type='html'>I had a job interview today. It was at a school for children with autism. I am completely overwhelmed and confused. On paper, everything seems great - I'm qualified for it, the pay is great, the benfits are good, not too far away, etc. but I'm just not sure. I've never worked with kids like this before and, to be honest, I was a little uncomfortable . These kids can be violent and have some strange behaviors. For example, they bite, kick, punch, pull hair (which I observed today), undress, touch themselves, and one even smears his poop all over the place when he goes. I'm not 100% convinced I can handle that. I also am struggling with not really wanting to go back to work full time because I just want to be at home with my babies. That's why I had them, so I can be with them. Unfortunately, if I want them to have a place to live and food to eat, back to work I go. &lt;br /&gt;So, I'm torn. I think I'll take some time to think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116111293065660688?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116111293065660688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116111293065660688' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116111293065660688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116111293065660688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/10/torn.html' title='Torn'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-116057118340724313</id><published>2006-10-11T07:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T07:53:04.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt</title><content type='html'>Check out my &lt;a href="http://www.philistinebrand.com"&gt;nephew&lt;/a&gt;!  He's modeling for a friend's new t-shirt company. The pictures are great, but Im not sure about the shirts.  Funny "small world" story about this guy. He went to Wheaton at the same time I did and my roommate and I were in love with his roommate. So, we hung out a bit all together. I remember going to see The Net with both of them and feeling so cool that we were out with &lt;em&gt;sophomores&lt;/em&gt;! Anyway, fast forward nine years and I start hearing Matt talk about this new cool youth leader he has with the same name as my college friend. "Hey, I used to know someone named (new youth leader)!"  Sure enough, at church one night I saw him and it was the same guy! Now Matt is really good friends with him and hangs out at his apartment.  Everyone sing, it's a small world after all, it's a small, small world... &lt;br /&gt;By the way, isn't my nephew a cutie?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-116057118340724313?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/116057118340724313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=116057118340724313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116057118340724313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/116057118340724313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-too-sexy-for-my-shirt.html' title='I&apos;m Too Sexy For My Shirt'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15786187.post-115997945793677141</id><published>2006-10-04T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-04T11:30:58.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Should Blog But...</title><content type='html'>My children have been keeping me awake at all hours of the night. Therefore, I have mush-brain and I cannot put together a sentence, never mind a whole blog entry.  Really, it has been bad! Monday night I got about 4 hours of sleep and half of that was on their bedroom floor, wrapped in a Sesame Street comforter, using a Boppy as a pillow.  The problem is, we moved little Morgan into her crib in Oliver's room. The first few weeks were fine and then Oliver decided that he can't live without me - even for a minute. Everywhere I go it's "Mama, mama." (Not that I am complaining, I love hearing that little voice call me Mama. Melts.My.Heart.)  BUT, at 2am when Morgan wants to eat, little Ollie decides he needs his mama and Mama just wants to be back in bed. So, most of the time I stand in there until he is back asleep, or almost asleep so he doesn't realize that I'm gone.  But, Monday I was so desperate for sleep that I just crashed on the floor.  They were tag-teaming me - one up, one down, the other up , the other down and so on... until I felt like I just wanted to yell at them, "You're being such a baby, stop crying and go to sleep!!"  Oh, right, you are just a baby. My bad.&lt;br /&gt;We bought Morgan a Pack-n-Play for our bedroom and she will be joining us again in there until she can sleep through the night. Lastnight was the first night with that, and I was only up twice to feed. Glorious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, there's more to say, like how awful that shooting in the Amish schoolhouse was and how I can't get over it, and how I've been having weird dreams lately and wondering why we dream, and how Oliver (and Joel) had roseola last week, and how I have already started thinking about what to get (or make) for people for Christmas and how my famliy has decided to do home made Christmas gifts this year and I need help, people, BUT it will have to wait. Now, I shall get dressed, finally, and try to get something done while the kids are asleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15786187-115997945793677141?l=beckamac.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/feeds/115997945793677141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15786187&amp;postID=115997945793677141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/115997945793677141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15786187/posts/default/115997945793677141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://beckamac.blogspot.com/2006/10/i-should-blog-but.html' title='I Should Blog But...'/><author><name>Becka</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09769692559501939564</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_PeoCgz8v0NM/SFHWrinGitI/AAAAAAAAAEk/bciXAw_m6ek/S220/beach.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
