tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68040255613658213502024-02-20T10:11:23.262-08:00The Ertmann Familyjjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-88321467807068272192011-02-23T15:04:00.000-08:002011-02-23T15:04:46.205-08:00Kara's Party Ideas Giveaway!I'm blogging about this giveaway so I can win it! Its a cute set of carnival party stuff. Perfect for say, a certain boy turning 2 in August. What's the best part? Popcorn. Can't have a carnival party without popcorn, now can you? Click <a href="http://karaspartyideas.blogspot.com/2011/02/giveaway-carnivalcircus-party-pack-150.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+KarasPartyIdeas+%28kara%27s+party+ideas%29&utm_content=Google+Reader">HERE</a> to see the post.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-18570893216870233852010-11-26T17:50:00.000-08:002010-11-26T17:50:15.148-08:00Wow.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulvq7F_GeQNLYdPnRYfNQ-bg7OBJbs2FT3t3oMX2JGyaWCQ0QyCUZ2EIGAHfVw0OhPaWe8TX3kgebPgBDvTgDiCowsPPq8Sp3lF5hs1eV47ZVeu8HnNP1N0jJ6I1VBCjy1cy3fqmkcopJ/s1600/020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgulvq7F_GeQNLYdPnRYfNQ-bg7OBJbs2FT3t3oMX2JGyaWCQ0QyCUZ2EIGAHfVw0OhPaWe8TX3kgebPgBDvTgDiCowsPPq8Sp3lF5hs1eV47ZVeu8HnNP1N0jJ6I1VBCjy1cy3fqmkcopJ/s320/020.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I think this is a new low. I'm not going to go through my posts and check, but the last time I posted was May. And now I'm putting up my Christmas tree. So that's a long time. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Anyhow. I don't even know where to start. Soooooooo much has happened since May. I don't even recognize my life. Its just bizarre. </div><br />
My family started a bakery. The bakery responsible for the upturn of my life. And everyone else's involved. Absolute insanity. So in July, for some crazy reason, I went on KSL to see if there were any bakery related businesses for sale. There weren't, but there were two restaurants. And in a moment of what I can only explain as a total lack of sense, we started calling these places and setting up times to see them. You know, just to feel out the market. For the future. <br />
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Turns out the future was the next week. We went to this absurdly nestled restaurant to meet up with the nice man trying to get out of his money pit. He practically shoved the thing at us. He dropped the price to nearly nothing, he just really needed someone to take over his lease. And we signed right up.<br />
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So we went from our blissfully calm lives (I didn't think so at the time, but now I see) to painting, shopping, experimenting, fighting, yelling and definitely not sleeping. We got the place at the end of July and we opened for business August 16th. The sheer madness of it all is that we had absolutely no plan. Or we thought we did, but we didn't. We planned on selling to caterers and grocery stores. Teaching Gluten free classes and whatnot. We ended up with a sandwich shop that just happens to also have delicious gluten free baked goods, not selling to anyone but the public. No one gets paid. We go to the shop everyday, work our butts off, go home and crash, get up and do it again. <br />
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And I've never been more satisfied with a job. I've never worked without dreading it every single day. And I wake up happy to go in every morning. I like seeing the same people come in every day because they like my food. I like seeing new people come in, so excited to find something gluten free. I like working with my husband every day and my family. I like bringing my kids with me. And I like having a place to cook my dinner when my power goes out. :)<br />
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There've been alot of trials going into this thing. A ton of injuries, lots of tears and crazy moments. But I know if we make it through the storm, its going to be sweet.<br />
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And with that said, I'm going to list above mentioned injuries.<br />
Blackened butter steam burn to my mother.<br />
Deep cut from sharp knife to Josh.<br />
Deep cut/gouge from stubborn picture frame to me.<br />
Minor cut from sharp knife to me.<br />
Minor cut from crappy slicer to me.<br />
Assorted heads bouncing off the concrete floor to my kids.<br />
Assorted burns to everyone from everything hot.<br />
Severe (in my opinion) burn to my poor baby's whole hand from a hot pan with delicious cinnamon rolls on it.<br />
Bloody nose from face plant on concrete floor to my baby.<br />
And a million more that I can't think of.<br />
Pictures!!<br />
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</div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-14591544319408986912010-05-02T13:32:00.000-07:002010-05-02T13:32:52.534-07:00Still Slacking.I've come to this conclusion. I will probably never be a consistent blogger. Every time I post, I like to think I will be. Even this time. You notice how I squished in a "probably"? That's because I still think there's a chance. It shouldn't be that hard to post at least once a week, should it? Well it apparently is. You people who post every day....seriously....props (does anyone even say that anymore?). Don't know how you do it.<br />
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So, I'm really only posting now because Josh noticed that my last post was in March and started to complain. <br />
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What's new? Josh got a temporary part time job with the census, so I won't be seeing much of him for a while. Sad! The kids will really miss him. Yes, I will too. But they're just never going to get a break from me. And even I need a break from me. So, yeah.<br />
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The cake thing is still going strong. I want a bakery!!! I want more room and more stuff and more clients. I want! So if anyone wants to give me a bakery, or even just a sheeter, or a cricut cake, just let me know. You can write it off on your taxes!<br />
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Clara has started dance class. She's very confident and outgoing in class. Which is good. I think she does pretty well for having just started. <br />
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Nolan is still terrorizing the family. Oliver cries every time he sees him. Clara is constantly tattling on him. I am always telling him to stop climbing or eating or mauling. The usual.<br />
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Oliver will be 9 months on the 5th. I cannot believe it. I can't. He's crawling around everywhere, pulling himself up on furniture, climbing up things. He has 4 teeth, and he uses them. Its just insane. <br />
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So I don't take many pictures, and I should. I know. But I'm going to post our pics that Tina took, even though I already put them on facebook, for lack of any other pictures. They're so cute, they should be everywhere anyway!<br />
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Okay, so I'm not. Blogger is being stupid and won't let me upload anything. Boo. Well, I guess that's it then.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-38215287025653856872010-03-27T08:52:00.000-07:002010-03-27T08:52:12.771-07:00Just Like Dad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4xO0K_27QtrSl-f-piYGvrdSO_XCLoOnqK7BvH3VPOl8NzO_bXGhks_wsDr693J6AlWJyE-Fu24yqUN-AzXu-GZ8JVT6yfAmBrHzKeaTMkAniVcNRPDM-pK4Tb5epuJY0YA46aXSq22NI/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4xO0K_27QtrSl-f-piYGvrdSO_XCLoOnqK7BvH3VPOl8NzO_bXGhks_wsDr693J6AlWJyE-Fu24yqUN-AzXu-GZ8JVT6yfAmBrHzKeaTMkAniVcNRPDM-pK4Tb5epuJY0YA46aXSq22NI/s320/005.JPG" /></a></div>Nolan has picked up a few habits from his dad, namely lounging and munching. His favorite spot is the lovesac in front of the TV. He usually puts his hands behind his head (like dad) and locks his fingers together. It looks like he's going to do situps, but he never makes the move. If there's food, even better. Its cute, to some extent. <br />
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Fortunately, couch potato isn't the only thing he's got going for himself. He has inherited another of his father's traits. And that is to injure himself repeatedly. He is 2 years old. Besides all the black eyes, bruises and cuts he keeps popping up with, he's had a broken arm, a broken face, and now, stitches. I've never had stitches, outside of an operating room. I've never broken a bone. On the other hand, I believe Josh has broken both arms, wrists, a collar bone, had the tip of his finger torn off, and he has a huge scar on his shoulder, not sure what from. He's also broken his nose, I think with a peanut butter jar.<br />
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This most recent damage came from stacking plastic storage containers on top of eachother, (empty storage containers, he dumped all the clothes out of them first, after I slaved over their organization for hours) and climbing them. He fell, hit his head on a jagged edge, cried and came to me. I freaked out. It wasn't bleeding, but there was a hole in his head that I could see right through. I swear I saw his brain. Josh says it was just a layer of fat, but I don't know. In any case, it was gross, so I yelled for Josh to come get him. Josh laid him down, changed his diaper and took him to the docs. I'm glad I didn't have to watch him get the stitches. I really pray that nothing involving blood, or gaping holes happens when I'm home alone with the kids.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglm-TNAmi8EFQq3jBP7sRLLgQjhfzFNLFce4JM2YtirclJXCeEUzcDeRFGmwKb5G4yqKfjHxPkFkVNS5NevUTwLNZnh38m-1l4G7pYJVYW2ptGEMtTaM0IGaJz6gBY49b8X06baTRtUGIY/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" nt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglm-TNAmi8EFQq3jBP7sRLLgQjhfzFNLFce4JM2YtirclJXCeEUzcDeRFGmwKb5G4yqKfjHxPkFkVNS5NevUTwLNZnh38m-1l4G7pYJVYW2ptGEMtTaM0IGaJz6gBY49b8X06baTRtUGIY/s320/003.JPG" /></a></div>All stitched up. Sorry about the soiled bandage part. He wouldn't let me take it all the way off. Its Spiderman.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-19896508221524647932010-03-21T13:17:00.000-07:002010-03-21T13:21:03.445-07:00March? Really?I seriously can't believe its even March. Let alone that its almost over. Didn't I just post?? In December? It can't have been 3 and half months already. I'm not that bad. <br />
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And so much has happened in that too short amount of time. Nolan turned 2, Clara turned 6, I turned *cough-cough-cough27cough-cough*, Oliver started sitting, got his first teeth, finally rolls over, eats normal food, Josh um...got a haircut? Anway, the point is, I'm a big slacker for not documenting the milestones in my family more diligently. <br />
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This is another attempt to ease my guilt and acknowledge, in a more permanent form than my memory, the things that I want remembered.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMf4TgTqoC_IIqth60SMBGKpmoAlCE2QHHbMDDaycsn9s7WjepNxKOfSofwcU7RRPkIx1VcwTOHLdzn5zB5e6l4s3VdYmlIk6euiJw3dtdIE6y9gsJ-rlmEoMDtFZ82LqGRjWHlAJEWEP/s1600-h/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMf4TgTqoC_IIqth60SMBGKpmoAlCE2QHHbMDDaycsn9s7WjepNxKOfSofwcU7RRPkIx1VcwTOHLdzn5zB5e6l4s3VdYmlIk6euiJw3dtdIE6y9gsJ-rlmEoMDtFZ82LqGRjWHlAJEWEP/s320/004.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Oliver back in December when he was still a limp noodle. This outfit still fits him because he's still puny. He's just more physically capable.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyiEa8Nh2WQT6_u4SmPCuDM-h1G4Co-uHb-gu_egcxxhB71ssfjWLUrZWsTX30mPNrUys53qdqjVVPoqo5kY2JuYDCQczS2dzx0HZF6RvJfa3R3zbBc4z7l39bGNTzb6pMjsXyL7-ZdfgP/s1600-h/012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyiEa8Nh2WQT6_u4SmPCuDM-h1G4Co-uHb-gu_egcxxhB71ssfjWLUrZWsTX30mPNrUys53qdqjVVPoqo5kY2JuYDCQczS2dzx0HZF6RvJfa3R3zbBc4z7l39bGNTzb6pMjsXyL7-ZdfgP/s320/012.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Nolan when he still had beautiful blonde locks. Now they're kind of dingy brown. He looks a little high here, but I assure you he's not.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklPGHAVRIG5h1cXT1FQEHwhpcu4T4j_Z0DuVqBYIYTmhvTmdurwxxz9vUeN0koBVm3xRpdPhKtCd-wdyOMDvGVMa7b9HgOdnKX-Zc_AiiT8DqRklX24jahIeY9A8CPYv5z_05dXVQIK6I/s1600-h/036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiklPGHAVRIG5h1cXT1FQEHwhpcu4T4j_Z0DuVqBYIYTmhvTmdurwxxz9vUeN0koBVm3xRpdPhKtCd-wdyOMDvGVMa7b9HgOdnKX-Zc_AiiT8DqRklX24jahIeY9A8CPYv5z_05dXVQIK6I/s320/036.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This cake was not for Clara. She has this thing where she insists on getting her picture taken with every cake that I remember to take a picture of. Kind of cute, but mostly just stressful. I don't want her to ruin the cake. She could cough on it, accidentally bump it, trip and smash her face into it...that kind of thing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWCIvHxzUx23hYLV2hxhBzAeSslq51HpoPPfb1rr1mEUrG_47L3fgS4csdBqWwwoZa3IN0CQwhFWUWXT7Kka067PzOl4irWx1h1jUqtqRQFtYv63G2eqfodpkynlvRu27OYjFxz3rb6e3N/s1600-h/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWCIvHxzUx23hYLV2hxhBzAeSslq51HpoPPfb1rr1mEUrG_47L3fgS4csdBqWwwoZa3IN0CQwhFWUWXT7Kka067PzOl4irWx1h1jUqtqRQFtYv63G2eqfodpkynlvRu27OYjFxz3rb6e3N/s320/043.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And whatever big sissy does, Nolan has to do too. That's even worse. He wouldn't accidentally bump it. He'd intentionally dig out a big chunk and shove it down his throat.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmHH-o5bIIeqJ-uKgnI5PmUJPTzzcHOylEoIPtQO-ZrUMj3V7g_GL_z68W5-YgPIFxqNEFSbBSrH69nf1B0ZZE-l5_Wt7w_C8kEOVf8EaiFC_RFlGUs_sYkjqFn-3dxlQlSHNdZj9MlUD/s1600-h/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmHH-o5bIIeqJ-uKgnI5PmUJPTzzcHOylEoIPtQO-ZrUMj3V7g_GL_z68W5-YgPIFxqNEFSbBSrH69nf1B0ZZE-l5_Wt7w_C8kEOVf8EaiFC_RFlGUs_sYkjqFn-3dxlQlSHNdZj9MlUD/s320/006.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is Nolan's quick birthday cake. He insisted on Diego after seeing the other Diego cake. I wanted to try out the topsy turvy style, so we compromised. I did the topsy turvy cake and he got a Diego candle thrown on top. :) Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of Nolan on his birthday. Josh just took video. I haven't figured out how to add those yet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2I3N42wowWfQXzoXuXQ11OZXNZ1bnHVbWlErnvy48LZ9CO0lzxjAMqCZBJ2B4fYSVmjyWRCSYAQEowKMy7k2Q3Qc4Ur0GYkAXxI1mu1vz6pH6GiUYl07ubNJdAOAaGRNcfKsXR96fKJX/s1600-h/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK2I3N42wowWfQXzoXuXQ11OZXNZ1bnHVbWlErnvy48LZ9CO0lzxjAMqCZBJ2B4fYSVmjyWRCSYAQEowKMy7k2Q3Qc4Ur0GYkAXxI1mu1vz6pH6GiUYl07ubNJdAOAaGRNcfKsXR96fKJX/s320/009.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The aftermath.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnXPXJmPMeOgdDnR53nRYUfRmuXAtAaKHxuBDvsFB3BQlzn5icJCTihvBxF-lIFUBbY-oVLvlyOcP4thU9lppWA8-4CpkNECwy-fO5stnjlKYg4M8FuejulGCiotDrFSucOrM9wv6X4kj/s1600-h/013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHnXPXJmPMeOgdDnR53nRYUfRmuXAtAaKHxuBDvsFB3BQlzn5icJCTihvBxF-lIFUBbY-oVLvlyOcP4thU9lppWA8-4CpkNECwy-fO5stnjlKYg4M8FuejulGCiotDrFSucOrM9wv6X4kj/s320/013.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Christmas Eve was a couple days later and Nolan was Joseph. Unfortunately, he had just received a toy gun as a gift. Wouldn't put the thing down. So instead of a Joseph vibe, he kind of sent out the pasty white terrorist vibe.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ2xHuqIFUyzgLp5Huj6-dNH6h86jmNhprDL5dIaAcWYtLMUxajsHdq2WjnmJwnq0dM1rqlRzjyIPh4DEJms2uq_YeXxRWjByh5Q03Uta0KFOn_JIAYj97XI6cC_WANyBWB2nmIuBOV8lQ/s1600-h/024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ2xHuqIFUyzgLp5Huj6-dNH6h86jmNhprDL5dIaAcWYtLMUxajsHdq2WjnmJwnq0dM1rqlRzjyIPh4DEJms2uq_YeXxRWjByh5Q03Uta0KFOn_JIAYj97XI6cC_WANyBWB2nmIuBOV8lQ/s320/024.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That candy filled cane looks menacing too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUV1XOth12Eol3QovX9ROPP9bfWtyzPauFAntHVSE2WlSTM_zhaUF0r6mcsMkUiteVjua3oJZzttbSrlgavKZy8mqf7RsJgHDSg1eECemXKVLHi7EJxzasSepU1lkxcJQJEccISq9pKXus/s1600-h/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUV1XOth12Eol3QovX9ROPP9bfWtyzPauFAntHVSE2WlSTM_zhaUF0r6mcsMkUiteVjua3oJZzttbSrlgavKZy8mqf7RsJgHDSg1eECemXKVLHi7EJxzasSepU1lkxcJQJEccISq9pKXus/s320/029.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Clara was an angel. Without a gun.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUA01bTa8PQoCPHO1PFf1Tq9hR8MJOqBFREufYtQdjItAwBQOdRF3SWIxogz4HvpzuwlpkYLf-1ZZHtZm1T3uv-1GN_ERr36EDu5MsM0M2VqQ5rTKImZ23r1m6VX9agt1FKJEg49bcELJ/s1600-h/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUA01bTa8PQoCPHO1PFf1Tq9hR8MJOqBFREufYtQdjItAwBQOdRF3SWIxogz4HvpzuwlpkYLf-1ZZHtZm1T3uv-1GN_ERr36EDu5MsM0M2VqQ5rTKImZ23r1m6VX9agt1FKJEg49bcELJ/s320/034.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The whole holy group awaiting certain destruction from Joseph the Terrible.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMA5scD8cvOR_9wyQvvN1PNHG0yFYUDkT5VfGSECTLITIOpjCwlTpVu89raiami-D_t9uvZUocbKVqV7wwmz27U7pjL9Vh5I4H1uFXTMTuegiS6dYLc2SFqm8jXGwpF0hT00MXStemLDPO/s1600-h/039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMA5scD8cvOR_9wyQvvN1PNHG0yFYUDkT5VfGSECTLITIOpjCwlTpVu89raiami-D_t9uvZUocbKVqV7wwmz27U7pjL9Vh5I4H1uFXTMTuegiS6dYLc2SFqm8jXGwpF0hT00MXStemLDPO/s320/039.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Seriously. Look at that face. Does he look like he's joking?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6mDdxPDa95MvLlqQ_bPeHSUCPw0ebkrJKmKxgjK-fKhOE4Tu1p2avZckkrqpqrmYmjQCv9W_6h6kvcn3E0r-t_UxIZyjBaZBafhX4FNLeiczclVzNpSxHEquuUTNjxozuJ_H9G20Jyyz/s1600-h/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD6mDdxPDa95MvLlqQ_bPeHSUCPw0ebkrJKmKxgjK-fKhOE4Tu1p2avZckkrqpqrmYmjQCv9W_6h6kvcn3E0r-t_UxIZyjBaZBafhX4FNLeiczclVzNpSxHEquuUTNjxozuJ_H9G20Jyyz/s320/057.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We came home and put the kids to bed. This was the pile of crap under the tree that would soon be an even bigger pile of garbage and toys the next morning.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8kacz3b_5FrefBExpyKGvv_IaXJza4Z0LYmJOmB1XtgLJVk2PkPanUsjtZXeVGAJg0gumZjOy5FzQ__x5Y_7FiRjIe59xIg2fXUDaaJs_0GpuVxritcELi1gQHB5vIzaRAZF0mUCjDN8/s1600-h/073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8kacz3b_5FrefBExpyKGvv_IaXJza4Z0LYmJOmB1XtgLJVk2PkPanUsjtZXeVGAJg0gumZjOy5FzQ__x5Y_7FiRjIe59xIg2fXUDaaJs_0GpuVxritcELi1gQHB5vIzaRAZF0mUCjDN8/s320/073.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the kids opening their presents. There aren't a lot of pictures, because Josh likes the camcorder thing, but ain't they cute?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0s4TGqZPaE5ceMfNSTmJhyarLe2-67YOEa7TZii7L8i-bHBwNTtGIg4ILueXRi_urgDi9hrRgCjbdxYU1Cp0ki2tGMe-goYxJ1OYvg0HenPXVDnu__ZEnF0rKm4UkOlW-YuPkPfovxpND/s1600-h/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0s4TGqZPaE5ceMfNSTmJhyarLe2-67YOEa7TZii7L8i-bHBwNTtGIg4ILueXRi_urgDi9hrRgCjbdxYU1Cp0ki2tGMe-goYxJ1OYvg0HenPXVDnu__ZEnF0rKm4UkOlW-YuPkPfovxpND/s320/014.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Moving on from Christmas...a couple of months ago, this was the morning tradition for Nolan and Ollie, after we sent Clara off to school. Nolan would squish himself into Oliver's blanket and they'd watch morning cartoons together.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8FXkE7cw4hOOjJWsMOE5QgGdAVj4wsuD30gFMYyNdQCh6HkiVVDH-EfYJKGKojRofGi4ZV_BM2CgTD0dTZM4iv3MZOrtd5GQ7YWqpz7FdFeMdH_CAVuac78I6VBQLxDaUvK391LXZQCX/s1600-h/038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt8FXkE7cw4hOOjJWsMOE5QgGdAVj4wsuD30gFMYyNdQCh6HkiVVDH-EfYJKGKojRofGi4ZV_BM2CgTD0dTZM4iv3MZOrtd5GQ7YWqpz7FdFeMdH_CAVuac78I6VBQLxDaUvK391LXZQCX/s320/038.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Next comes Clara's sixth birthday. She had a cupcake themed party, they played musical chairs, smashed a pinata, and decorated cupcakes. Fun was had by all, reflected in the giant mess afterwards.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRRtYJVUGstgsUrjP4A_-qyev9wDKFtBesBkJW1rHXYj05nZJlHwZSHlgROCIIwmnos-4fj1KIdoga1OmzeezgR36LvNDrolKx6ikwAoLXFVt-w-VUcnpC2oDEkaq6Ekodmg-TS8QQzUR/s1600-h/050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRRtYJVUGstgsUrjP4A_-qyev9wDKFtBesBkJW1rHXYj05nZJlHwZSHlgROCIIwmnos-4fj1KIdoga1OmzeezgR36LvNDrolKx6ikwAoLXFVt-w-VUcnpC2oDEkaq6Ekodmg-TS8QQzUR/s320/050.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This was the top of her cupcake tower. Fancy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7i6fILR_bX5alNSWH62pyL74F4pLSxcA4P0xEEDiBwTzvaxhmRjq18MEondC51y1MqArW0Odt_tUwU8zL5xuEpW0MKuLW7AbQywyE9c9vWosI6LaM4A6T4WXm6eMEcMah0YID3IXUHo4/s1600-h/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii7i6fILR_bX5alNSWH62pyL74F4pLSxcA4P0xEEDiBwTzvaxhmRjq18MEondC51y1MqArW0Odt_tUwU8zL5xuEpW0MKuLW7AbQywyE9c9vWosI6LaM4A6T4WXm6eMEcMah0YID3IXUHo4/s320/053.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pin the cherry on the cupcake. I painted it. That's right.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WjEjlbciBChVtEoT_mxRTwCjw68w-cckwpvvpHBMfCjYiRWpir7gE_pwhflJj-PmpgzXF3bMf9E9lgwMcUE7lc8bPxmuuWdS0URYEDFXMSe8rEOy35eg_z2mgDMcD_KKcQ7_ADwR-TSa/s1600-h/057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WjEjlbciBChVtEoT_mxRTwCjw68w-cckwpvvpHBMfCjYiRWpir7gE_pwhflJj-PmpgzXF3bMf9E9lgwMcUE7lc8bPxmuuWdS0URYEDFXMSe8rEOy35eg_z2mgDMcD_KKcQ7_ADwR-TSa/s320/057.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">An example of the delicate treatment my children get when in the hands of a loving uncle.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEYm0QHajDlKEc4SlfYV4k3rZVQ7FRpG3bX5QBxa7f6hr8TEiZU7zMVBDwuluSQA7wtb6eJNAkBgBfFDF5gK0EGoVf9hRyb0B76O96xOX2z5RJYXrQ1KTzQiqWT633vbDjJd4IvzWv0YMT/s1600-h/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEYm0QHajDlKEc4SlfYV4k3rZVQ7FRpG3bX5QBxa7f6hr8TEiZU7zMVBDwuluSQA7wtb6eJNAkBgBfFDF5gK0EGoVf9hRyb0B76O96xOX2z5RJYXrQ1KTzQiqWT633vbDjJd4IvzWv0YMT/s320/004.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">President's Day! I love it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiijpbJwPdlTTRpBYZBlP-zEUbMdiqA1szQAFEwyrfsW4nv0BApdXDhgV2Ee8E28v9JwUQGi00EQ_AaZTInUuV2So25WRegwTyvklMTQn9KSGQSgYAP1h1T7JNxYKQxKGf4oLSlGpf_7DR/s1600-h/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiijpbJwPdlTTRpBYZBlP-zEUbMdiqA1szQAFEwyrfsW4nv0BApdXDhgV2Ee8E28v9JwUQGi00EQ_AaZTInUuV2So25WRegwTyvklMTQn9KSGQSgYAP1h1T7JNxYKQxKGf4oLSlGpf_7DR/s320/006.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uG7lVW1RrtauiB5gB0vLcZ2qg_0mQhYwT0QFcqSbW_9BQYm8XxChDh6KzVAxo2WqpL7hMLja58N2fzOaTGgVXTTWQonYp1apRJ3tgYwLn4BRBEYJXNGAxADEDR2HMrzivp_PwKRoAlkS/s1600-h/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-uG7lVW1RrtauiB5gB0vLcZ2qg_0mQhYwT0QFcqSbW_9BQYm8XxChDh6KzVAxo2WqpL7hMLja58N2fzOaTGgVXTTWQonYp1apRJ3tgYwLn4BRBEYJXNGAxADEDR2HMrzivp_PwKRoAlkS/s320/017.JPG" vt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWOtpKea_OGSRE0WTJEgCjAVHanXV2zrLacBCOigpqzs4F-JkHudkgcrHz92jXf7tWnUJz6RsL_RHIGJ69SvXSDovPQeMqyEJlSNCqMQpZCW9uvW6ITQVTHXeE3IpHqzGlw7ElkjMgyjv/s1600-h/021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWOtpKea_OGSRE0WTJEgCjAVHanXV2zrLacBCOigpqzs4F-JkHudkgcrHz92jXf7tWnUJz6RsL_RHIGJ69SvXSDovPQeMqyEJlSNCqMQpZCW9uvW6ITQVTHXeE3IpHqzGlw7ElkjMgyjv/s320/021.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_0uVaO2OF-YLAt5P1O0gHkYu36e2EqH5aK_86fjfkmSiV45ALyi-R08RXpCyLDc1X808lyu180XA2Ec0KzhKvXSXjcYgNVs-S0RkkYBte0HVrF6QMXoTREwA0C7_hFT9BOPbxOWcW4iT/s1600-h/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ_0uVaO2OF-YLAt5P1O0gHkYu36e2EqH5aK_86fjfkmSiV45ALyi-R08RXpCyLDc1X808lyu180XA2Ec0KzhKvXSXjcYgNVs-S0RkkYBte0HVrF6QMXoTREwA0C7_hFT9BOPbxOWcW4iT/s320/029.JPG" vt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlClKvD7sspeR0RaUe9zOTi7bjShU6H0mbGnvADwbZucYV-q-5r00si9tGAUHctTx-kMVQ95XCiEfGRqNcsgrMZPUwUPjX0zuzxyS3M_qeUJZyWlFnctqxFCQa4z49BcApIeHie1mwYuX/s1600-h/031.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzlClKvD7sspeR0RaUe9zOTi7bjShU6H0mbGnvADwbZucYV-q-5r00si9tGAUHctTx-kMVQ95XCiEfGRqNcsgrMZPUwUPjX0zuzxyS3M_qeUJZyWlFnctqxFCQa4z49BcApIeHie1mwYuX/s320/031.JPG" vt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWw57BF9PUkKHtuLhInd65n4vXpxhiWOjzhtdnBULKemQBDbeoENSUoLYqVxwS7Iff6sxoPkkRP6AwWOa_EGEpi7QhVn1esuv7z7_4K6O93_30pCpKxBTTkLWHN7CvUiBfcIUyED2oznsF/s1600-h/044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWw57BF9PUkKHtuLhInd65n4vXpxhiWOjzhtdnBULKemQBDbeoENSUoLYqVxwS7Iff6sxoPkkRP6AwWOa_EGEpi7QhVn1esuv7z7_4K6O93_30pCpKxBTTkLWHN7CvUiBfcIUyED2oznsF/s320/044.JPG" vt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9nFzBKmcy0IW8hjJgih-f6s6hMUSJEMeq7aV2Ftb_tUk4q0EEC_pAbIKmWXBA-aVs-jCpuKIGPbYp4uxyr1Uxr4omstOmnTAGamJVYF5yxsqA1PPH9dHQ5BrvrNtw8F7Kt138W7bi0kP/s1600-h/050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK9nFzBKmcy0IW8hjJgih-f6s6hMUSJEMeq7aV2Ftb_tUk4q0EEC_pAbIKmWXBA-aVs-jCpuKIGPbYp4uxyr1Uxr4omstOmnTAGamJVYF5yxsqA1PPH9dHQ5BrvrNtw8F7Kt138W7bi0kP/s320/050.JPG" vt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-reyzV8E2qrM-u2KlWd6M5Li1b-uyjg0jTwRnRUGJmg0Tg3EaV7dIWoLMNFM56WCXFFU70ItZ8jetj-rd9JrOV5jodPgePAcC-69Cv7lTzf3M2AgosNBZUB_cur2WGudhLogaLFSsrxKP/s1600-h/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-reyzV8E2qrM-u2KlWd6M5Li1b-uyjg0jTwRnRUGJmg0Tg3EaV7dIWoLMNFM56WCXFFU70ItZ8jetj-rd9JrOV5jodPgePAcC-69Cv7lTzf3M2AgosNBZUB_cur2WGudhLogaLFSsrxKP/s320/053.JPG" vt="true" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8cSlHK5bG4UYPx90_CORSwSgX3M47ib2LK9reji5XSb14xQ-yS1ZuBHqtvc-yCBlDG2pjtt23UrCeSzmpQlRoaxPsa1N6SXKwE_KzZJ6gGeQ2PD2n5OA0bCx7DwfgU1XUV5YIzD-2jK7/s1600-h/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP8cSlHK5bG4UYPx90_CORSwSgX3M47ib2LK9reji5XSb14xQ-yS1ZuBHqtvc-yCBlDG2pjtt23UrCeSzmpQlRoaxPsa1N6SXKwE_KzZJ6gGeQ2PD2n5OA0bCx7DwfgU1XUV5YIzD-2jK7/s320/003.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is the first picture I have of Oliver sitting by himself. He still flops over occassionally, but he's so strong!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWY8RP7RTeS64AzCDX9jG0zZPuXcZ7wlDfZI3iTFRTT2-V_8FvdtttnGSL9ePugJo_DM-Wodwbo4LHsRgAJZqRjrJKDsIZyKE79KWo5dG8ADVIDa3pseYpwO-cksFmk60tIML5BethuqL/s1600-h/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWY8RP7RTeS64AzCDX9jG0zZPuXcZ7wlDfZI3iTFRTT2-V_8FvdtttnGSL9ePugJo_DM-Wodwbo4LHsRgAJZqRjrJKDsIZyKE79KWo5dG8ADVIDa3pseYpwO-cksFmk60tIML5BethuqL/s320/009.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nolan being innovative with the jumpy thing.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisOWV2QYs10q_MA4tPhq6C80J83vGvdKXRc_f0FRHEB83hVacGJvz1AJEbKsEvN0rdCr5c1VNz7Bl4Q1mgQ2YFs0JyiUGabY1rsMS1ww42xyi7mgfrB3j78XAJz1VOLmWogBbnNBCuuI1v/s1600-h/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisOWV2QYs10q_MA4tPhq6C80J83vGvdKXRc_f0FRHEB83hVacGJvz1AJEbKsEvN0rdCr5c1VNz7Bl4Q1mgQ2YFs0JyiUGabY1rsMS1ww42xyi7mgfrB3j78XAJz1VOLmWogBbnNBCuuI1v/s320/016.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">See? Look how dingy brownish blonde his hair is now. Oh, and the nose picking thing. That's new too.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65Mf4gaXoZ8Ri-teqcRju-olo1NMF8lvGh3ryBXREuR1Nkr8SvLGGjkujw2RUc8n5E6yqrwM3lfje32W3NUJqalzMzyAj2_kP1y5s9pFCBevqac5_m4XAgtUS6wTYmJ1RM8tOKGHV74sf/s1600-h/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65Mf4gaXoZ8Ri-teqcRju-olo1NMF8lvGh3ryBXREuR1Nkr8SvLGGjkujw2RUc8n5E6yqrwM3lfje32W3NUJqalzMzyAj2_kP1y5s9pFCBevqac5_m4XAgtUS6wTYmJ1RM8tOKGHV74sf/s320/019.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">How handsome.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrW1cZ0-eTtKFdHrmKAWZ09QCkny7VHXNvgqR42Sco2QZV-UCE64AbaoR2l7DJGC-xlJzdoSKuhoedAx6HTySXkjaDWSsU2AnaH4x4wvNcXsFm8FfCjjdbE-iRvEZxkV9m-DtSdqYP0tR/s1600-h/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrW1cZ0-eTtKFdHrmKAWZ09QCkny7VHXNvgqR42Sco2QZV-UCE64AbaoR2l7DJGC-xlJzdoSKuhoedAx6HTySXkjaDWSsU2AnaH4x4wvNcXsFm8FfCjjdbE-iRvEZxkV9m-DtSdqYP0tR/s320/034.JPG" vt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is their new ritual. Oliver won't lay down now that he knows how to sit up, so they just sit together on the love sac and watch morning cartoons.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And that is all, my friends. All I had the time or patience for anyway. Until next time...</div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-2251061766444616212009-12-02T08:30:00.000-08:002009-12-02T09:44:30.834-08:00Mom BrainI've got it bad. Real bad. Its a curious thing, mom brain. The anti nausea portion of the brain seems to deplete the common sense sector. I have been puked on peed on, pooped on and slobbered on, all without blinking. I wipe the offending fluid off and continue on with life. Second nature.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>BUT I can't think anymore. Its a big problem considering I have three kids. As of yet, I haven't forgotten any of them. Not when it mattered anyway. I did once leave the baby in the car, but my sweet husband was there to gently remind me "ARE YOU CRAZY? THE BABY COULD DIE OUT THERE! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Case in point. I <strong>wasn't</strong> thinking. I just can't, its too hard. </div><br /><div>Example 1: I walk in to the house with the baby, the diaper bag and a bowl of egg salad. I hang the diaper bag up, take the baby upstairs and put the highly perishable egg salad away. Everything looks good. Until the next day when I go to the cupboard to grab my kids a healthy fruit leather snack. A cupboard in which lies my highly perishable egg salad. All nice and perished.</div><br /><div>Example 2: Cash. Josh went to the bank and took out some money for me to go shopping on Black Friday so I wouldn't spend too much. I tend not to keep track (mostly because I know if I do, it just won't be as much fun). So I have that stash of cash. I also babysit my niece, she paid me in cash also. I remember putting the babysitting money on the kitchen counter downstairs. So its not the best place to put money, but I knew where I put it, which is one step ahead of the norm. The BF money I recall placing on the microwave. Vividly. I get ready to go shopping and I think I know where all this cash is. I go to the microwave, nothing. I go downstairs to the kitchen counter, nothing. I ransack the house, dig through hampers, shuffle through junk drawers and non junk drawers, look under, in and over the couch, double check everything, stick my hand in my pocket and pull out the babysitting money. Celebrate quietly, grab my purse to ensure its safety, put my hand in and pull out the BF money. Celebrate much more quietly as to not tip off my husband of my insanity and unify the money in one big safe wad.</div><br /><div>Such is my life. Always. </div><br /><div>Which brings me to my latest excuse for the large expanse of time between blog posts. I forgot I had a blog. Can't post in a blog you don't have now can you? Okay, I jest, I'm not that crazy yet. Just a little slower than usual. </div><div> </div><div>Pictures!</div><br /><div></div><div>Pics by <a href="http://tinamiera.com/">Tina</a>, Oliver at three months. Adorable.</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410682428208031330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhriGYHKJmVdtYLW7-_-Pc_qlkq1hGPAVcwo9M13TyBx606oxxtchbYSLTKun7KTzzlRONqFK5EzkCygpQCVJANGTwBnxULlt3yvZLXWMsExI37o2cTtLktvzLAgB5cMsbJTYH209ur3h7/s320/4012.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410682430991069362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzwkla-LFiAO8p-heQ8pmwe6aUgX2qFB6E1QGcGh_HjeYWnq_TqWLqVYMMnvxmACQ_Dhl-I_vgfdSTVkZqbjXytpxOyxyjw8foCnUgXcQptDWkPABcgsOv-SmGwrwMWNjJ80ua-Pra3tA/s320/4025.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410682435268922146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKuxsOyiwRUj1fZ_JXZfNj-6XVfGvFdQk4jmxyzrslStzXIpKwpsnwXgke49yHsJNVv5quL9NLy1OVlxVnzYpI-3UEnFMCnlSQHsgKSP8jITLIHzLSlyZisGAN6VMvQ-kwUfMSNrdmaUym/s320/4047.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410682442295841794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1H4IXPQ44rjhezlN8co5kYTHXzBLiTM_U68sBjZ5GueMo3WISIXrz9eQGOoQVzqcmnbBuDgHDS_niYEXQDLbamF15opIMLai09QjGD_d-WOJlCNktyMfyf5mnl_nHHZZZ2KzhZTR7Z9s/s320/untitled2.bmp" border="0" /></div><br /><div>Oliver passed out on the boppy. Those things DO look comfy.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410684274700040866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGnvee6iy6BjzsEafKfpAcWxFPtLigAts0HCUmoyZelzQLV7Ec4NKVjjvQwAbvklp6pBRP_-uwdYEujrV1NQ9Ny043Kup4A3cNS_S_z6rxtYB51ZJ3OGp0hO5PiLsSaQ6xFW00WkhBjcq/s320/004.JPG" border="0" />Cozy baby.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410684286048024706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK15buv4hWnPyZZqOHMJCATZGlVMzhRxrNMzE9do8MU9IXJp7W1dUxP9IfsIU20hJtxfhLtgMfS69X-94UAiqLl9IM6JH7mDWdTqRx6OWEXFXzx9QCOclvUADo1jGa33DQQS68QTIzvBfY/s320/041.JPG" border="0" />Nolan and his little bro. Look at that color difference!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410684290482507874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGEP11O8womGnq_pVANBw2izOVPFPm0HH37SxNpOTawYy85C0VhW2Joaes3PbandFDYyGvMtbaGw2FaBbXYyGhz6B_RfTia6HZO1KqFbAXvh3mAozsX2gA-a0DwQq7Upxfi9CYrLPZyhI/s320/070.JPG" border="0" />All my sweeties.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410684298854843490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5O946ZsqhgYb6riTj8KRrnndZmcP12VPoRw4V7UIuPkmhVvAJyp0WxonYp1-3xc_Fw8SOQBehJhhEoYx8vd2PieKyQ8902swq_jycFhV2sSzAykD8K2IkvF1oYKzXkifUxijf5qM7b_M/s320/008.JPG" border="0" />Happy boy!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410692249182780882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPohwunn9Y5buw-7474Ue5W8KrAoa1zTaTYz3liz84PKwcvcqpFkiygR_ZRAL9HsV6In5QhEjftiF7Xt_XhsXVq7YQy4oiVZpaOHhhx2oHNWr6L7DhPzMzTySOlMcc7_AxmCfCOxxCCMEO/s320/035.JPG" border="0" />The boys.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410692254424090050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_F2qHOfhUgstSdaa6CIvB4jL04OsB2HTtd7CgHOvgUWbbSjtMgQL3TpjuLx3h7_RHOfGqdIR-8i9W_8-QMZyExiJ_N2261koHU4-GHEw13Tuq9tqrDN1Ko9JQNwd18QryX5-Qo7qnMrO5/s320/006.JPG" border="0" />Ollie at the computer, his favorite spot.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410692261581434978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9k92bzaqnq39t-E0_ne4KPOjLkc4InTg7oI-3b0pb4_68txPafxT_b1r06bfUwAXTXs3gRBnQWeP7Qt4IpRdJwcobAkAwrE6SFqx681_kVt9dQpYZ0tUzj3AImCjEuwvNdKQgC9KklnZ-/s320/001.JPG" border="0" />Nolan's black eye. It got so much worse, sad I didn't get a picture. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410692270223104738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZJ465gGPmg_EA-bwluTgu1ez_chPjwIndInNbF_nRs1UOO0i1MsKdjjsDlX-LJ71lDbHxWQ0WH40JM2G_mXm24grBMpkK-H4DDgabmni5X5HH6bm2b2zvm7rUPKnP71uNOQP3TAugKXjs/s320/020.JPG" border="0" /> I searched high and low for a picture of Clara without messy hair. This was the closest I came. I really do do her hair every morning. Super cute. She just destroys it in a matter of minutes. She's cute anyway.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410695274520401778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG7EM699BuUVs_THdqkPcckdlIQHBJKRRs03TLDe-eGhXaOEiaIFValDlf8n83A5-l30bysjnSXNteoNjGBNQrARLKvVFtKgFoA5hv_DTsuaRbwpt7NmZ4jXoBDMPU_as3tAO7YoSpD0UO/s320/023.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-78501475709328823292009-09-06T10:31:00.000-07:002009-09-06T11:19:40.984-07:00I have a new kid!His name is Oliver James. He was born on August 5th (during the day sometime). He was three weeks early, 6lbs even, 19 3/4 inches long. Such a pretty little baby! Although he's one month now and not quite as little as before. He's getting so chubby. I love it when they're chubby.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>We've been adjusting to the new change pretty well. He sleeps on my lap all day while I do my data entry. Besides the fact that he's a little human heater and I sweat like a pig the whole time, it works pretty well. I just keep telling myself the cooler weather is coming. The weatherman says otherwise, but I dare to dream. It can't be that far off. </div><div> </div><div>Clara has started kindergarten. I was sad at first, but I really like only having two kids at home for a couple hours a day. It reminds me of the good old days. We all get up and ready to walk her to school in the morning. Its the only excercise I've been getting lately, and its really nice in the morning. Best part of the day.</div><br /><div>Other than that, things have kind of been business as usual. Oh, besides the introduction of cake balls into my life. They're fabulous. My most recent experiment was mint brownie cake balls. Um, delicious. I want to try making a caramel apple kind and key lime pie, and maybe even a cheesecake. I'm making myself hungry. AND the best part is that they're gluten free and still delightful. Josh can actually eat them. And when he's happy, I'm happy. Sometimes. Anyway, they're good, trust me.</div><div> </div><div><a href="http://bumpsandbundles.com/">Tina Miera</a> took these beautiful pictures of Oliver when he was 9 days old.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378412526696399090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBBRnLdYOjV5Yz5IQ6vUfKOGI9Oxm5cacQEKOzGjgNSfrW9hok_oMKoPMXEmKrtsvao0xiPhUWFDukGfPfF_9tqzXjjZncpzEBj6ZDSHHFZq5A1rSe73uMOLGd0xYZg9cRk-8MDqQc8qC/s320/6496_1183636838331_1450535961_486177_2941729_n.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378412522900389394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKvGuT3Ec7taLTc0LxZvZYyLhyphenhyphenTC_A_jYNu1ujpxeVxZLPWZxeDwcCMmkwh3ID3PoA7FvJcraQLe5qyxx468cy7uQJ4izkK0KutR8l_z7niej0bCEOpZu3V0ivUNO8B0Oh9pSIkiihoNFe/s320/8249.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378412511877801970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdExj0BnoKblPxJw7C__yK_h79IkKArfcsruibEOdguxallIbf1QBIfjjbdQQVEv66jHuW3UBmjxDo3t9WYp9jgS2dc7uBXtfMIbSnTlKj-BBoLW9nnTExGOWUAofQBdfzBfiak51wboyO/s320/8143.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378412506292898002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3-v95VG_htdE-i9neQEAEci1sD1PrzpeU4gOt74pFvc18vMzTkra7xYS_kY9DEOKTvM0WiqR-8B6JfPqxZHFwFDfFFzphm007RZXNn-colFSVNiLdDKl5yI9bXkRLLB4v6zN4dhRcUM_9/s320/8122cropped.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378412512054540866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSz2I7oi_iC2-nuMl3TJ2FaS_UqQenFt1oofv04jQ7Ko9PzF0yvkZOeCbmSAw_8cMzEvsbo4nz9oubc5Tv-q1DQTnWUEY2mC62G6f9g9uo499lYj2K_HQiOr2ZmhqJeNc9ihTMKi8V_-sj/s320/8170.jpg" border="0" />Oliver's first bath at home. He was so chill!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378413387174190146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTk3YgbHYFbEPSPQ5NrIcMfSIdRgOyAj2fGRZtNZ0gThdVj8fclP8IkRtkrZvq__C18AFx3moNfb6cqc-zQPsTnrcZt5tFAhUnpj9SEnzFm34TJFy61ZDPSLbOsAJOUB_EPzNCRPqjppae/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378413392159087842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvmiUuYb9KNty-A50GqFw5FAypX2ncXUA4ZnEJHVmZ33zs1UigwXpkt1Y-gtvfM23-cElb_tFyM7di9nzXM2ziWXasKr868A1XRYKMSmFiI-4lU2b-Zb8amj7oJ_G79oFifSRIayf0T2vj/s320/007.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378413404748671810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZqA8DDg7jXp6t74TVRsUh9AK6HvKtTiTs94_R5ILYkLltKWhlH2zt6UQjsWjRQv1TcABNV6VCsnvFA23k3XCdj5SdlUommOpgYAD2xlhU05Oe1lH2WIDApCQG3sLLu0WrtOOm6GCWi1n5/s320/039.JPG" border="0" />Clara's first day of school. She was so excited! So was Nolan. I had to drag him out of the classroom when we dropped her off. He was pretty miffed.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378413422007800914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUgWYlPvkLIYQDrDcjWUA7oTaZL3cXkai3hJEorDHVlRVjYVaQuQepXTWYDh6iU-orAbt5dpOQsE3Pik73AHJGW7miqvVONVJ_NKCoMdlkGE4D-vAaVv5xo3is4DtbYPsxAOsWs9lHhzRO/s320/069.JPG" border="0" />Soccer cake in buttercream. Do you have any idea how hard it is to frost a circle smooth? Pretty hard.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378413411388297250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrt5Ozxm764C65PwiBN22E0yhoQnxLz3SXgaLbvljSXBTLaj81Wirxi2FflqNP5x80ANlmajTJoPU295sWtGu7kJ9QBRNPxhohBoM3Npgmb6Vni5uheLgDnDk0Umy4OOrHoyIE3RX3uqEu/s320/066.JPG" border="0" />And this is Nolan showing off his knowledge of sounds<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx0dplBGFIwbVEyz8c7y5CM23VBrJEil2EGvomCRuSiY9mPVt15SgCsrYaeWV2N0sHhitLReM9CQ6BEbLrwnQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-13596750202344439432009-07-21T10:42:00.000-07:002009-07-21T11:26:45.706-07:00Found it!I know, its been a while again, but my camera is in working order now, so I'm a photo snapping fool at the moment. I'm sure my new found appreciation for my camera will spark my blogging urges for at least a week or so. Its been a crazy ride getting here though.<br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div>We went to the zoo the week of the 4th for the free military day thing. Josh loves the zoo. You might categorize it as a bit obsessive even. Its really not for the kids that he goes. Part of his obsession is taking pictures of EVERYTHING there. That's a problem when you're camera's not functioning. We were missing our battery charger. We looked everywhere a million times each and nothin. Finally the day we went to the zoo, we really tore the house apart and found the charger. Don't remember where we found it, but it was recovered. Only to realize the battery wasn't in the camera. </div><br /><br /><div>Looked everywhere for that too. Now, I have two kids. They like to relocate things. Clara puts everything in her purses, Nolan puts things in the toybox (except toys) and the garbage. I've found my phone in the garbage can and the recycling bin. Luckily it rings, unlike a battery. So we couldn't find it and we ended up going without a camera. We decided to go again the next day with Papa, Jessica and Laura. We looked everywhere again and we couldn't find it. It was a good zoo day, but there's no proof. It will be forgotten in a year or two and there's nothing I can do about it. I guess I'm writing about it now, but its not photographic proof. I could be lying. </div><br /><br /><div>Anyway, I assume its been trashed and its sitting in a pile of things kids throw away that they shouldn't at the dump. I break down and decide to just buy a new one. We go to the store, locate the battery for our camera, turn around and walk right back out without the battery. It was 50something bucks. I don't think so. I'm finding that battery or buying a crappy new camera. So we go home and look again. At this point I've found all the lids to my lipgloss that have mysteriously disappeared, my gymbucks (hadn't expired yet!), every insurance card I've misplaced, my wedding ring, Nolan's missing pajamas, and an old apple. Helpful, but not what I was looking for.</div><br /><br /><div>So since the store was ridiculous, I go to ebay. We got a phone battery on there a while back for $1. I find our battery for ten, including shipping. Halleluia. I can handle ten. I buy it, we get it in the mail and I'm free to take any old picture I want. A couple days later, what should show up but our battery. In the drawer Josh swore he put it in, but couldn't find it in. It was there. The whole time. So now we have two batteries, should one elude us again. </div><br /><div>And now for pictures.</div><div></div><div>I would have awesome zoo pictures, had my dreams been realized. Since they weren't these are pretty random. </div><div></div><div>Instead, this is Clara with awesome braids in her hair. I did them yesterday, she played, went to bed, took a bath and they look the same. I love them very much and will make her keep them in until her hair starts looking crusty.</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360977483038687810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOMIs0wzBD2Mt_z1h6eOPHx2tafoy480T136xPVlaxQC6hNBc1aQEZro96hCshp-e-EV-7jEJSFBx5z4OYLhjTx7ZYlrz3GBBF8lHlXDgMunaJUznDL_NSRtVOmLDceFvneq4-AMEuSTFq/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>Here's Nolan getting his camera time. Just being cheesy and bald as always.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360976037635901794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIoNTyS8GxyaeAIyYptq2RfYB1HBNrk-4EE7W1yIS346MOrj_YIUv-oRDLD0hk4y2WMBC64RuuICRRJPI16idArd8pD5PeSO4zfCgbuWw2-x55-kzAHc5XUMBAZ67S9yEXrAvx_dNXTBTJ/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p>Here's a little addition to that, he's being cheesy bald and princessy here.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360976047609103074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOAdzDSA4GnduA87lB2kCEOJXTOfHzl6WgnDBsu-IyIH1D34s_FhW_I8Uk_dIHP3XTC6OnHM8I7e4-rF2fgJjzakthw0xobYSlYDJYaZHxfpEguigUK6V6ykDq5pj8ztuMgmUb12O1qFxk/s320/DSC04016.JPG" border="0" />Again, when I take a picture of one, I must take a similarly themed picture of the other.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360976053058928178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhExMw9ljFxs2qL8WP3a3rsAAf4Bc_9ybI4gvqnaLYB2y_i8f3_J9lo0pF-5zAhBAtWJbK9w7glNB2YDSWFpzoojK3zDdG40AAO2QeFq3bf6-oOJSeSvJqi73_U3gwKrMVrxjUASGwRTs-S/s320/DSC04017.JPG" border="0" />And I can finally take pictures of my cakes. I don't even know how many I've missed out on. Luckily I can't remember or the regret might keep me up at night.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360976061360456658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxWX2uAYiBWSeyaBd-fi51UInrbxxY4Cs8454poBgCAG8BUGyHinEVYSp8NmeGR2H7heqcXz8jRnu9Vj6EnPNx_eY5Ds-TZU_PEmv2MheCxUPsrwIEXz_ba9BhT1TNMcZ57ZwTb_b8lHF_/s320/DSC04044.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>I would post a picture of myself at 36ish weeks along, but quite frankly, its not a pretty picture, this is my third child and I really don't want to remember being massively bloated and swollen in 100 degree weather. And there are none. I'm going to keep it that way. The proof will be in the child, who's name we haven't agreed upon yet.</p><p>Oh, and anyone who has tried to look up my website and has been depressed for the two months its been down, I'm here to ease your pain. I put up a little blog with my cake pics on it until I get my new website up and running. Its justeatitcakes.blogspot.com. You're welcome!</p>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-23944282948434579542009-05-21T22:02:00.000-07:002009-05-21T22:37:58.009-07:00Wassup!?<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Yeh</span>, we're still alive.<br /><br />I'd apologize, but then I'd just sound redundant, so I'll skip that part.<br /><br />Many <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">goins</span>' on have been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">goin</span> on in our household and I've been too busy/lazy/crazy to post about them. But here, I'll try to sum up the last few months in a somewhat normal sized nutshell.<br /><br />Where did I end off? Like March or something. So <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">there've</span> been a lot of new people in my kid's lives. Well, really only brand new in Nolan's life, but like new in Clara's. My sister and brother both returned from their missions. Laura, the sis, came back from California, Sacramento, ASL speaking, and Daniel from Madrid, Spain, Finnish speaking. Ha, just kidding, Spanish speaking. They've both jumped right back into real life rather quickly and the kids hit it off with them both like they'd never been gone. Only Clara likes Laura now. See, she used to hate her. Now Nolan hates her. At least she has the affection of one of em.<br /><br />And the birth of my cousin's son adds to the new people. His name is Ethan and he lives in my basement (with his mom, she didn't just leave him down there to fend for himself). Nolan finally touched him willingly for the first time yesterday. We've tried to get him to pat him softly many times before. Want him to be well practiced for his new brother, and why not work through the bumps with a kid that's not mine? He would just ball up his fist and pull his hand away so we'd end up forcing him to rub his head with the back of his unusually large 17 month old hands. But yesterday he was rubbing his head (with is palm) and then possessively grabbing him away from Clara. That's when we had to take a little break to talk about being soft.<br /><br />We're in for it with this one, I tell you. He's so incredibly sweet and conniving that he gets away with just about everything. He has the prettiest eyes and he opens them up so wide and sincerely and hugs so tight and pats my cheeks that I forget why I was mad at all. Its not a good thing. Especially with this new one coming. He's going to be J-E-A-L-O-U-S. Guess he'll just have to get used to it.<br /><br />And Clara, we've finally enrolled her in kindergarten and its killing me. I'm so scared for her. She's so innocent and genuinely good that I think it'll all be ruined or she'll get bullied for it. I hope for neither and that all the kindergarten kids believe that Santa is real, no matter what their parents tell them, and that cops are there just to find you when you're lost, and Jesus is watching you from Heaven. Oh, and that Dora is the most awesome television show ever. AAAAAAAHHHH!!!<br /><br />Anyway, like I said, I've been a little busy, hence the blog neglect. I finally got a job from home that I THOUGHT would make my life a little less hectic, but nay. I'm probly busier than ever. And I still need to find time to excercise and do extracurricular activties for the cultivating of my children's social skills (and mine). No such luck yet. Although I do start off everyday with the putting off of an early morning shower reflecting my intention to work out. That's how I show my committment. Unfortunately, the only thing it results in is not getting decent until about 1 oclock. Anyone who comes to the door before then gets an eyeful of my bathrobe, bed head and smudged mascarra. Nah, I'm not a frumpy mom. Not a chance.<br /><br />Yup, that's my exciting life in a nutshell. Hopefully pics will come soon, when I find the time and energy to find the time and energy to find my camera's battery charger.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-85274906824612950342009-03-18T12:58:00.000-07:002009-03-18T14:10:21.257-07:00Holy Cake!I asked for it. I knew what was coming. I saw it happening, and yet, I still agreed to it. <div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><div>I was on the committee planning the stake women's conference. That's all. It was going so well. Then they found out I did cakes. I had to miss a couple of meetings to teach my cake decorating classes. They wanted wedding cakes for decoration. It all fit together so perfectly. They asked me to make 4 wedding cake centerpieces (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">styrofoam</span> decorated like a cake) a few weeks before the event. If I was an organized person, it would have been (pardon the pun) cake. Since they're <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">styrofoam</span>, I could have started the next day. I could have spread out the work. </div><br /><div>Could have, didn't. I had a REAL wedding cake order for the day before too. So in short, I decorated 5 wedding cakes within one week. I worked 20 hours, ran to the store about a hundred times for supplies I ran out of or forgot, I taught a cake decorating class, took my daughter to the dentist, cleaned the kitchen 5 times a day (didn't do any good) and babysat my niece. It was insane.</div><br /><div>They turned out nicely though. Look! I'm happy they asked me to do it, really. I had so much fun. If only I had 5 paying wedding cakes a week. I could quit my job and actually have time to do them. I needed some more cakes for my wedding portfolio. Most of the cakes I do are birthday or other special occasions. Not usually wedding cakes. People just don't get married as much as they get birthdays. Shame. So anyway, here they are. They're pretty boring <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">colorwise</span>. They wanted them to all be white, and I agreed. They're nice though.</div><div>The first one is the "real" wedding cake and the rest are the displays.</div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627837832820226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzFgoGI-Fii1sMJPs3HYSLidUApMRMUZduZL6c7KPpoehMfc5Pe5jcs6KYNK3t948A-gVz4fiC1vhEWsrxJ9hpXlzFbruXXI7CtYQ_KOa4lXNlIkpkRk18_JeswRU-HwThCIkiGTz7Wwm/s320/DSC03887(1).jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627838789600562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPXh_53DbopYjmoBXfLm6uIA2gVZey6S4odXy_Xz5rWnFPNsrlarrjG18O2Y4Y43ekmb0_rIJvYseAwg5zqs6AXsxLO7EAcGuGIzUL-hX2VTb55kR2q8TRuG4drroMswJLRGR7crL1DBsO/s320/DSC03891(1).jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627846549106130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUlANjg08NThvWdVztz-4I72eg9PsI8KxSz5UqnM7nrcNlUOuBwAdf9PJjGJPT_h7S3AhSVeJGsu1yo6Of30e5oAUMKqLtdJkn4cV8fGs2BPr0Q1rPqUX02DV3k1sqvhPDYXx0s6u6M24i/s320/DSC03896(1).jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314628036064348450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFmzaPtM9DImVGYeU6Xm8FOPRd4omTEUuoMbnC3d7D8lFvfCRXpqRN50iKC__SaZFW-e9Ys0VQD6glONOLQ0gwqDYUTA-LB1rwq-q0YiWf3GVKZSNcz_PnM5goYBzo4KocYUY3DqcaVLD1/s320/DSC03905(1).jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314628044137462066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjijFUFyHoLpYm89F1ttaRtCyJPOqzR96y7eM2_JnLULXv9iSt-JlBY6K52XvacL8smpTTyIx0maaqyZI-10bjBRl0qeeDEWiEcBfAK0PzqBAHsF9_lpy4l_XpXGE5TVKuvBrHuGwyu9mE4/s320/DSC03910(1).jpg" border="0" />This is a Godzilla birthday cake I made last month for a baby's first birthday. I guess his nickname was Godzilla.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627818988985042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZuIMT1CWAProf4I59WyXO-3ceU4XGBVUHsdY8MGvQpqhFEE7qszbBN7yAaAAqRvvzg4hqgyaT1vWtxYXwT1iZ9ndIVTMOZyxkvLkLezIyihR4AZLMonklCxlcqTcl3vpFgz7SnGjOnp6U/s320/DSC03853(1).jpg" border="0" />The nastiness that is my son. Every time we eat. Every time. No joke. He takes whatever he has and wipes it all over his head. In this case, oatmeal. Terrible photo though. But you can still see the nastiness through the blurriness.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627831596024818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaF_OCjii4lBRZzjA1gWuSSekRthazREXa8_dJyrGb7oy7lyJeXOh3KBzSfNRb5owhOMw0YP7PT7-HHLa5IQ_IR2WrV-MzQfW2Ak9QRrVm2N8ZXladlQMHLtI5_6LWCrIZ5U6Il7-4hi2A/s320/DSC03883.JPG" border="0" />This is him all cleaned up. A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">heartbreaker</span>, I tell you.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627392791382978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVlNi1PGYLlbcgcvuGQDIQ_6GObY6vk-cESyksu9NPkncg9EhyphenhyphentvribgcoobiVmNKoJo8c3-Wm5uGUCPai43f-S6GhjN5rewW8FErC_l52caccrqF7Ex6-8KaN-xS5RsEGuYt6-FVUH_6q/s320/DSC03856.JPG" border="0" />My darling daughter, getting her share of camera time.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627409272132194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ47bxyFhhj-9ciOYN7AnmQ0o-Z_HAjiIAr_baszXgn7ed-fAOl4d3izdr-Q2rVYr3nVEZvlFDPiPoz1I5NyT-hlWY1Jeb6Gu9ujkk8-y3l5qkG6iRvkWM8rRqz6UCHvCAZaSB9ao53dRV/s320/DSC03859.JPG" border="0" />And this last bunch is from sledding on President's day. Every year, we have a little family reunion in Logan. We go to the cheese factory and fill up on the cheese and ice cream. Then we illogically go <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">picnicking</span> in 20 degree weather. We chatter and freeze and then go sledding. Clara, Nolan and I slept all the way home. Poor Josh had to suffer awake to keep us all alive. I think it was worth it.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627365813413250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWBEylyDft4kxz3gpv_JWvm-PPtClhaXlo8l8_UTq-4PuRpBgN4qIu3coXoxQ5BTaIUx7_oYpF97VVyeBH1prK5gy90OaOpJ3orZXKIvqEUiDLNnwYe1PO3APOjTzlWDw4fmw4ymcINfw/s320/DSC03821.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>We didn't even start sledding until an hour after Nolan's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">naptime</span>. He was <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">sooooo</span> tired! We would send him down the hill and he would just sit there. Exactly like that. Not moving a muscle. It was so funny.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627369901418930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAi078A93L2eqHdo0Cinh_pk25GKn3mNd8DBXoRNBREsj0mL15H9IC09yGnSQkUap-74dZgA7_pEILKJcmtDjA_K5ki6FSAM0moxBku5ofjTbQGiqj9mNvWuDXN5_CChTziAPFkS9OfhHf/s320/DSC03822.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Clara had the best time of all. She even carried the sled up by herself a couple of times. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314627382012134194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwyrOLzpMTczJzB_Lc9ZBz7tloQIdiAIDj_muZD3whgpFkl-yLmT1_FTk09IeU_uRKdGIiPn5tcohYeK7Iy8RqTlVrJzbJ6-IymyJWwwwMVr4LBGIY0w2Rg1OMFAh1udVTRUJneFGT0jqF/s320/DSC03829.JPG" border="0" /></p>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-12738564671173530232009-02-15T11:50:00.000-08:002009-02-15T12:29:52.312-08:00Strawberry Kiwi LobsterThat's right. Strawberry kiwi lobster. Problem? Yeah, its gross. Let me tell you how it happened.<br /><div><div><div><div><div>We didn't have anything planned for Valentine's Day. I had to work, Josh had to work (liar), it was just going to be another day. We already talked about gifts and such. We weren't going to get each other anything, we were going to go to Hale Centre Theatre in March when the Phantom of the Opera is playing. That would be our Valentine Date. </div><br /><div>Apparently I was the only one who got the message. I went out to my car to go to work and the whole thing was turned into a giant Valentine. There were window stickers all over, balloons, chocolates, flowers, a big gaudy card. It was really sweet. I told him I almost cried and that the one thing that would have put me over the edge would have been if he had actually written in the card. Guys.</div><br /><div>So I go to work, planning to stop somewhere on my way home and grab him something. I'd already got him a card, but it was looking pretty cheap comparatively. I was scheduled to get off at 9, but they made me stay later. So late that Josh was calling me, telling me to come home. I didn't get out of work until 11, and I THOUGHT Josh had to go to work at 2:30, so I decided he'd rather spend a little time with me on Valentine's Day than have me go searching for something befitting such a wonderful husband.</div><br /><div>I drive home, hoping to get a few precious moments with my family. When I get there, he surprises me by announcing that he has the day off. I was happy, but feeling bad that I didn't get him anything, so I go in the kitchen and grab a piece of jerky, left over from Clara's snack the other day, and a reese's. That was my gift to him. Economically savvy, I like to call it. </div><br /><div>We still didn't do much of anything the whole day, just kind of cleaned and hung out. Oh yeah. The nap. We took a family nap. It was the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Nolan went to bed, CLARA went to bed (never happens), Josh slept on the couch and I had a peaceful siesta in my own bed. 2 hours. Nice. Then we went to my Grandma's house for her birthday. She gave us her delicious caramel apple cake. I don't know why she feels the need to make her own birthday cake, but I'm glad she did. It was delicious.</div><br /><div>Then more sugar at my mom's house where she had a bunch of gluten free sugar cookies for us to eat and the kids to decorate. They were good and reminded me of the old days when I used to decorate Valentine cookies for my friends.</div><br /><div>We toyed around with the idea of going out to eat as a family, but decided it was too risky with sick kids and the potentially massive lines. Home cooked meal it was. We went to Harmons to get some ingredients, but I forgot my recipes at home. I'd wanted shrimp scampi, but Josh wanted lobster and we've never made lobster before so I said we could just use that in place of the shrimp. $28! That stuff is expensive and it was on SALE! It would have normally been $40. </div><br /><div>It was fun figuring out how to cook it. We ended up steaming it and then shredding it up for the spaghetti. The only bad part was the (I assume) lobster poop. That stuff was nasty. I got it all out though, I think. Then I made the sauce. It was a moment of complete moronism. The recipe called for white wine. When something calls for white wine, I usually just put in apple juice (for a sweeter recipe) or chicken broth ( for something more savory). Don't ask me why I didn't have chicken broth pop into my head. Lobster spaghetti isn't exactly a sweet dish. But for some reason, I was stuck on subbing in apple juice. Only I didn't have any. All I had was orange juice and kiwi strawberry juice. The first ingredient in kiwi strawberry juice is apple juice. So I figured it would be okay. So I dumped it in. 3 minutes later, the lobster was bright pink and all fruity smelling. Not so good with butter, garlic and lemon. No. Not so good. </div><br /><div>Josh was sweet and choked it down, I gobbled mine right up and am eating the leftovers as I type. Its still gross. Clara would only eat the noodles and Nolan wasn't having any of it. Ah well. Now I know that strawberry kiwi lobster spaghetti is not something I want to make again. The salad was good though. New ingredients there too. It had fennel, which smells fabulously like black licorice, and pancetta (Italian bacon). It all worked together really well, so I'm glad something turned out.</div><br /><div>After the whole dinner mess, we decided to dip strawberries in chocolate as a family. Clara had a ton of fun and they were to die for. I ate almost a whole pan myself. So good! And then we watched our DVR'd episodes of Monk and Psych. Funny stuff. We put Clara to bed, Josh flipped to the travel channel, and I spent the rest of the night decorating a Wall-E cake. It was a good day.</div><div> </div><div>And now for some random pictures. These are pictures of Clara by Tina. She decided to redo Clara's pics after we had our family pictures taken. They turned out cute!</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303122527160527074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm2xTjyw5w17XhvoW5UGS9Jo9mfFCzO-qaZzJTgTgQENYst21df6-TR9zw3eUmAmU2akuFekOIjSK0B1GoLcUVGU8JLZepbQl1j7A7ZAaaeNZmblQTPrDHpbfVkwerVEobJNitBM3-wUuZ/s320/5622.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303122522503102786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQru5fJwJjMzaQ9ljn-UFJi3L2Hk3JhBXJgUM6ZDAEXWNBiaTBwewoTAF9_5OkhqZgT2jOFygLJ_ciV2BAySEW6op8K-oO49uomN27T8njXYlrhy1eoRPuc1uoKcrRRABzyK7Xv2EYGmRw/s320/5587.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Cakes I made this weekend. The first one is R2D2, made out of fondant and the second is a Wall-E cake, also molded out of fondant. They were fun!</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303122525531479234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 298px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZ5xs1IgvdIctvTk86dvko3U866dMyAhg72joJcgLGo2JXhy1ihF27NxRod-kKH4VCguTZjg9RRFV5IIU0BAVvhRIflaMHJ1gdT_krxXgEHKesm-IlCe6UbkWoD0Q-a_nxeb68Uvu91KC/s320/DSC03802.JPG" border="0" /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303122517912488338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOE6_t2chtYqs_YBroLsDPGXffDN-60ykfPL0Kj-qPq5EIKXS9dmSIPP6X2BLMgHLb4IjPVzxzEde2XInUHeDGAIAzBybsmcXe7Z4heIq8eCqn11glsmcmj78WI_JFpo-IlaqsB7QI5V1b/s320/DSC03814(1).JPG" border="0" /></p><p>And finally, my first scrapbook page in literally at least a year and a half. This is the debut of Nolan into my scrapbook. First page with him ever. Not my favorite page, it has my ugly handwriting on it and its too florally, but I'm glad I finally did one. Hopefully I can keep it up.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303122514534462306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 153px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQHUwIMLk03lnJ8gtc6IanBS9HOehejvTxdIU-HgxGkIT5sbgRDLUZ2rW4W2OwApRPEcKXbnRkb9plyN21PV0rI0wVGDMI0x9P9swOmD4zKdoUFI72fIZUWiqOiJhq8mVmRTNauiLbJkXg/s320/DSC03797(1).JPG" border="0" /></p>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-37024250064850911142009-02-12T07:34:00.000-08:002009-02-12T07:45:33.555-08:00Bitter Sweet Symphony1. Put your music library on shuffle.<br />2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.<br />3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG TITLE DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS!<br />4. Tag 10 friends who might enjoy doing this. Post a comment on their blog that says "You've been tagged! See my blog for details."<br />1) IF SOMEONE SAYS, "IS THIS OKAY," YOU SAY?<br />When Sould Meets Body<br />2) WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?<br />Bite My Tongue<br />3) WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?<br />Moondance<br />4)HOW DO YOU FEEL TODAY?<br />Sugar We're Goin Down<br />5) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?<br />Another One Bites The Dust<br />6) WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?<br />American Woman<br />7) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR PARENTS?<br />Tight Wad Hill<br />8) WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?<br />Have You Ever<br />9) WHAT IS 2+2?<br />High Voltage<br />10) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?<br />Thriller<br />11) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?<br />Independent Woman<br />12) WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?<br />Do You Really Want To Hurt Me?<br />13) WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?<br />Earth to Bella<br />14) WHAT DO YOU THINK WHEN YOU SEE THE PERSON YOU LIKE?<br />Livin' On a Prayer<br />15) WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?<br />Under Pressure<br />16) WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?<br />Wish You Were Here.<br />17) WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?<br />Frosty The Snowman<br />18) WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?<br />Exploder<br />19) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?<br />The Last Song<br />20) WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR FRIENDS?<br />If<br />21) WHAT WILL YOU POST THIS AS?<br />Bitter Sweet Symphony<br /><br />I tag Ashlee.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-41323987669960933982009-02-09T15:51:00.000-08:002009-02-09T19:30:28.394-08:00Cute Lil Fig!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2WmjI2pjATLlAeL-XPB5_a1c8XNRPKcgwmiknE6FWmUawhyphenhyphengNA5YoFX9OYWgeJa8e0I0Sfxt3ayOmO3nu4lQSLk6gbijA_PeDDjKQPH76F9a9lDNlR5L325HmWOeRxMOUZCXPB1PE2c8/s1600-h/11-fig.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300954423709540962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK2WmjI2pjATLlAeL-XPB5_a1c8XNRPKcgwmiknE6FWmUawhyphenhyphengNA5YoFX9OYWgeJa8e0I0Sfxt3ayOmO3nu4lQSLk6gbijA_PeDDjKQPH76F9a9lDNlR5L325HmWOeRxMOUZCXPB1PE2c8/s320/11-fig.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I've been having some minor complications with my pregnancy so I've been really anxious to see if everything was going smoothly. I had my first doctor's appointment today. Normally I would go earlier but nobody's schedules matched up so 11 weeks it is. </div><br /><div></div><div>So we woke the kids up, got them all ready and took them to my mom's (thank heaven for her) and then took off to the doc's. I'm so glad Josh comes with me to my appointments. I've had so many of them in my pregnancy history and personally, I'm sick of them, so I can't imagine what he's going through. But he's my health advocate. If he didn't come, I wouldn't know or remember what questions to ask. I probably wouldn't even know my due date. So thankfully, he's willing to suffer through them. Actually, he generally sleeps through them until the important parts. But that's good enough for me.</div><br /><div></div><div>We got there a little late, because everytime I have any sort of appointment at the U, it snows. Literally every time. Its gotta stop soon. Traffic was horrible, the roads were slick, but we made it within ten minutes of the appointment and went right in to the ultrasound room. That's when I saw the cute little wiggly fig. It was moving all around, bouncing, floating, rolling. Aww. The tech made sure to point out the little healthy heartbeat and measurements. They were right on at 11 weeks, 3 days. They did diagnose me with a bicornuate uterus. Finally. </div><br /><div></div><div>I've been told that they think I might have one by every single person that's ever had the high honor of looking upon my uterus. Finally they saw enough evidence in this ultrasound to diagnose it. The doctor's have told me that they can't figure out why I have miscarriages. No reason, just fate. Well, bicornuate fate. Here's a little anatomy lesson. My uterus looks like a sweet little heart. There are two sides. One is a little bigger than the other. If the baby is implanted into the smaller half, miscarriage will likely ensue, because it doesn't expand as well as a "normal" uterus. Luckily, this time, and apparently with my other two children, I managed to squeeze them into the larger half. And there you have it. Mystery solved.</div><br /><div></div><div>I'm just relieved to know that the baby's doing well and everything's right on track for my horrible summer pregnancy. I will never stop complaining about that. Yes, I know, its my fault, but still. I'm going to die. </div><br /><div></div><div>So on the way home, Josh and I witnessed a car accident. We stopped and Josh went over and made a statement to the police. We were in the far left lane, there was a dump truck in the center lane, just ahead of us and a silver SUV pulled out of the 7-11, onto the street and went to far. She clipped the dump truck and her light went flying off. It was kind of funny because she called the police and reported a hit and run. The dump truck had pulled off just a little further down and had his hazards on and everything. I don't know how she didn't see him. She was probably just trying to get her insurance to think it wasn't her fault. But as soon as she realized he had stayed, she decided not to file a report. The dump truck guy did though. Haha. </div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-19074649366030223412009-01-31T13:57:00.000-08:002009-01-31T14:26:35.340-08:00Family PicturesDang. Its been another month. Well at least it hasn't been a year. Yet. So we've had a crazy month.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>It was my birthday and then Clara's birthday (I'll post pics later), then we got family pictures taken and Nolan had surgery. We're poor. S'all good though, cuz we have luv. Right? </div><br /><div>I'm going to be a little random, my kids won't play with eachother. Its really annoying. Okay, that's probably not true, CLARA won't play with Nolan and he's terrible to entertain without her. She's been going to her room like a hermit and shutting the door. Insisting on playing ALONE. She will not let her pesty little brother in. She won't come out and play with him. I just yelled "Clara, open your door! I didn't have two kids so that they could play alone." </div><br /><div>So I'm kind of forcing her to play with him. She'll end up resenting me for it. Until she has kids of her own. Or maybe I'm just mean and she'll let her kids play by themselves. </div><br /><div>But I gotta post, and how am I supposed to do that when I have a bored little 13 month old grabbing at the keyboard? Exactly. </div><br /><div>So, back to the family pictures. <a href="http://tinamiera.com/">Tina</a> took them. She's amazing. I'm really happy with how they turned out and I can't wait till I get my taxes back so I can fix up my family room and hang them all "cute-like". </div><br /><div>We made her take them in her studio because we just HAD to get them done in January when its frigid out. Um, because I'm PREGGO and I wanted to get family pictures with Nolan, AND before I got all fat. er. </div><br /><div>I'm about 9ish weeks along, I think. I have my first appointment on the 9th, so we'll find out for sure then. So this shall be an August/September baby. Generally I would be appalled at that, seeing as I'll be most pregnant in the wretched summer days. Blah summer. BUT as long as its not a December/January baby, I AM HAPPY! I already can't do up my pants. I'm walking around with my pants unbuttoned because I refuse to wear maternity clothes this early. I haven't gained any weight either, so I know its not just because I'm eating too much. Which I am, but I'm pregnant and breastfeeding, give me a break! I'm like a bottomless pit. Anywho, enjoy our pictures. I did! Oh, and <a href="http://tinamieraphotography.com/Janelle/">HERE's</a> a slideshow of our pics too.</div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585511579002226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAeIjCbxWEoyX7nlJSfdc2qy64cfgwD9tbd54jVvhSwEKrWKDT0nTRpjFfHkYwKv4H2zCEHfB8p8hm4O0tpXRRuaQm5GY4N1sMEBGatPeAodZVtvTOw7gkUb9k6d_mrnEncGaeRJVmeKpD/s320/4640.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585712103519586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpIcbBMdZ2TmGD4h5roShYssMRHyLjbROQPH5JKaEeqaGYg2f8sodB6QF7w5izgCYWxLXVXYLK8wGn24fw1gCSPEysdu9-0YRihW1LRTzUOJI2liqFbzD173TaIAVYpsPPdWHTPA-jmDNA/s320/4690.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585704936021170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwMhKOoAfh5q_9bvu2HtJFIQYRbrooEflZSADE_i5BD940Nj69Ijg5C95D2rYErYQQoqY3SuqvHWsWI8hNJbkvXHExtUteLLow-SkVeDJkhtS0rxkqroS_m4D12AGqPIj-EAy_0XcYFa_L/s320/4676.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585535585953762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmiF614Y-Q974ZJUkHH2Av8_bJ9PyU0YT_ToYVOkN1JYK3-gLxaXiiE29kvXMhbDqAwr4BPtjvdeX1qd_4R22sRiD-cFVppPZNpmAZqka9HQErNYF81Fyq0-n0dXQK6znY3ektgC_rNUqU/s320/4790.jpg" border="0" /></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585534624780626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvQhfg7N2pki9DCSzb8HF3idE0GYe_vkNm96qo_L-D3Pa9E5pxbf2b1HDnIzbWD-9XfEwFXk-UnIGoethG5UqLkCSa1YrNX3IrzbumgrsLIXkAC5eQO7WuTw_Nmyu1olQhTdpwGsdXVSwR/s320/4777.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585525007791586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0LB6BJzi9CmrBZUXxKFxs91LuN4p16An1t7xmxn-XUGSTudR0oD9gUh9Jaxoe2s_09WW6j_4BYSMuvtuKN21BJjJPY_BPqvvlLbMrwTt9XOux6faM_DZc7waWUqwJyeNhbOzZtvSB60y/s320/4768.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297585522020352114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfCExmD4MArxpFR73C53zey436fzI-TNsCQkpQx3ihMcqMdC8I3oOMecxmEB23KxgH8a2sYXxrJUQS8358TYY5sucQ8KVTTnNsDnhI6DeWU_94ps-QP9M3aXBPiP8MfumV8wLGtqGTS-8P/s320/4757.jpg" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-11774491592029390832008-12-30T16:38:00.000-08:002008-12-30T16:53:08.506-08:00Random Act of KindnessThere is still good in this world! It ain't comin' from me, but there's good out there.<br /><div> </div><div>Clara got a kitty from Build A Bear and a $10 gift card, to buy accessories, from Santa this year. She was so excited to use her own "credit card" to buy something she picked out, so we headed off to Fashion Place. </div><div> </div><div>First of all, the mall was crazy! I think it was the day after Christmas and I had NO idea that it would be such a madhouse. Clara put her card in her back pocket and we trudged through the crouds to the Build A Bear store. The line there was HUGE but she had fun picking out some pajamas and slippers for her kitty. (we would supplement Santa's meager givings) </div><br /><div>We got in line and Josh, being the chatty cathy he is, started talking to the lady behind us about how Clara was so excited about her gift card and yada yada. We get up to the counter and I tell her to take out her card. She looked like she was about to die when she reached into her back pocket and nothing was there. I scolded her for losing it. I feel bad. Especially now. We had talked about making sure she didn't lose it. I made her put the slippers back. I said I'd SUPPLEMENT, not pay for it all. </div><br /><div>The lady behind us must have overheard the fiasco and she reached into her wallet and pulled out a $20 bill. She leaned down to Clara and said "Here Honey. Now you can get whatever you want. And I bet you'll have a little leftover to go buy some cookies after."</div><br /><div>Clara gave her a big hug and I stood there feeling mean and thankful at the same time. I thanked her many times. I felt like I should have given it back but I know how it feels when I try to give someone something and they reject it, so I let it happen.</div><br /><div>I'm going to pay it forward, as soon as I get the 20 bucks to do it. What a sweet lady.</div><br /><div></div><div>On a completely different note, I made another cake. This one was for a friend of a friend of a friend. An artist cake. It was loads of fun to do.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285750700532599010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 302px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKYrYZZdwlLzKUEFve_VKIJOOUgVNYxNfUeBUW-gJmuYH8K9VwQn-x_Ts1siYDeQc3U6f1swslcTOVFgOzw5dsBf_I2i6JpBGFG8zV5F83lkLpi7Qiz6zS0yFg9_LX6x6vVlg85ZwIN5Mh/s320/DSC03726(2).jpg" border="0" /></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-82943113789210713182008-12-22T13:23:00.000-08:002008-12-22T15:14:09.342-08:00I Feel So Cheated!Okay, its been a while. I know, I know. I promised I would post once a week. Clearly I have a problem with commitment. But I'm trying! Give me SOME credit here.<br /><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><div></div><div>On to explain my blog title. I feel so cheated! Nolan is one already! His birthday is today and I'm trying to figure out where the past year went. I swear it didn't go by this fast with Clara. I mean, people say that the older you get, the faster time seems to pass. So I'm 25. What's it going to be like when I'm 103? Cause I AM going to reach 103. Seriously though. I understand now. Its cliche, but time flies.</div><div></div><div></div><div>He's so big and smart. He's developing quite the personality too. I'm really dreading the terrible twos, because he's thrown more temper tantrums than Nolan Ryan's thrown baseballs. (eh, eh, you like my analogy...and how I linked the names?) Josh says the kids are mirrors of us. Clara is sweet and passive, like him, and Nolan is tempermental and vocal like me. Whatever. I don't throw temper tantrums. I do try to get my way as often as possible, but I don't usually resort to throwing myself to the floor and contorting my body. It HAS worked a couple of times though. </div><br /><div>In any case, whether he's a !@#&^*()_+ like me, or just a free spirit (which side I tend to lean to) he's one. He's all grown up. His poop didn't used to be that bad. I'd think "Hmm, I haven't changed his diaper in an hour or two, I should check it real quick." Now I don't need to check. I'd be able to smell that stuff with a can of air freshner shoved up my nose. And the puke. It used to just smell like baby. Not bad! Now it smells like big people puke. I gagged the last time I had to clean it up. </div><br /><div>I know it sounds like I'm bashing my one year old, but I'm not. I'm just missing my one month old. I did get a pretty good trade in though. He's the funniest little kiddo ever. He's a baby genius too. Just ask his dad. He can say "apple beer". Or something like it. He's created his own version of sign language. We call it NSL (Nolan sign language.) He knows exactly what he wants, and how to get it. He has an awesome glass shattering soprano voice. Everyone at church can attest to that. Yet he's the most boyish boy I've ever met. For instance, at church last sunday he belched right in the middle of the meeting (it was a pretty good one too, the belch that is) and afterwards he just looked so proud. And he loves anything that bounces or has wheels.</div><div></div><div>What a fun little boy he is! The last year has been a joy. I just wish it lasted longer!</div><br /><div></div><div>I just thought this was a cute picture. Apparently he's inherited the love-of-shoes trait from his mama and big sissy.</div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282740734061034562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOo4C7fG98OVfREkAEf4F8LWie_EB4qpR9n3xE9lrZQ_SiYjUsF-bfrsLUwV6p34N1ML4lvO47JAyGImg7IO2g8C0b-qUO8QdObCRAsqpr7FXTzuBcQ6hU6QXRZxGVioRqi9PRxPBT9cNc/s320/DSC03600.JPG" border="0" /></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p>If you look closely, you will see an "ouchie" above his left eye. My child has a death wish, or he's an adrenaline junkie. He hurts himself all the time. This one was from crawling a little too fast and running into a door hinge. His eye was purple for a while.</p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282740743136781202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6egixLCO8igmdpWlv3zMxz9RpmfWhKmDg-vaLCLhv9PfkFjvw-nWnte63R1U3N-I8FgYdV-vPqHff4T5t4XcqNKZCOCpznE8EKqAM4ABDsB39beLzqWEjp6redJUQOXcO-ypIrFcabc6E/s320/DSC03604.JPG" border="0" /></p><br /><p>Nolan's birthday cake! I copied it from <a href="http://pinkcakebox.com/">pinkcakebox.com</a>. Such a cute design. I'm glad I was able to pull it off!</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282743631745207074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1QAIircx5PudCNfhlxa17p78qpeuVT9WoM7brIAT34vjsSu2UBoPlJvtAh79tzC3d-JwtElwJ2D0TIAvTQPCRc_joEvrrbL5NucP1bDUAabYfi22ldSi98b-MskVg9PuUhPNipg7vkAA/s320/DSC03658.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p></p><p>Clara really wanted to eat his little smash cupcake. It was so much better than a whole little cake, I think. Minimal mess, although he did a good job of smashing and smooshing it to the fullest extent.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282740760494172578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 278px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLBjv7B-M3lElKIB2lqEkcKcc_e3phFVi1rrMFh2SWj_H6lb4pVK8MG-WIokIFGS1oVVGBsJ2MVYFWVvwR69liwvuQcmlm1VCmWgJXh4sKVUjIJ3kfRJqo-USvfnUc9srdg1cU_P6h2o80/s320/DSC03660(1).JPG" border="0" /></p><p>I haven't figured out how to take pictures when its dark outside and the horrible inside lights are on, so the picture's junky, but this is the most awesome present ever. Carly, my cousin-in-law, if there is such a thing, made Nolan this sweet little superhero cape and cuffs (not shown) for Christmas. She sells them online I think. Her website is <a href="http://palmegranateandco.etsy.com/">palmegranateandco.etsy.com</a> He loves it and since he already thinks he's a superhero, it fits perfectly. </p><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282740763890903298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 263px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtv-bxTeetA9iyFL2dln9tsigJxz1bmvWxm9DaFsVGOWSPmFskw8suckzF98CXzDBQ-T1Zld8PA51dIsm0SRlI_qCuuHmRw2bzG5Tl5RN_sHBB_PFxvQNnNtzMb410avbZlQzWol80Ja1X/s320/DSC03684(1).JPG" border="0" /></p>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-25949224424485218992008-10-31T10:15:00.000-07:002008-10-31T10:21:49.987-07:00Gluten FreeI'm finally starting to get a little gluten free business. A month or so ago, I had an order for some gluten free cupcakes and a lady, who was at the party where my cupcakes made their grand appearance, has a daughter who was just diagnosed with celiacs. Poor little girl! She's only eight. Anyway, so she called me because its the little girl's birthday and she was determined to get something cute, delicious and gluten free (three things that don't often go together.) I made them some cupcakes and here they are! <div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263369145996663490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 243px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQz26mAj4zfTW6VGpaA-uiudTnft9CJrfT8lSuTuPuh3ubDNaRoXzM6t_JzmLjCB7vOVOqZGs0YE5aqHzHur0s4477wrZfzt4P7bNpK-SMWC_IMauPhocvT415ANjFefFAEZrjRxA8nPIB/s320/DSC03512(1).JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263369152222234450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitWvCEyaTN3eRJIYGjI-chnswVLJKxFfA7W8Ho2EBzexNz1pHqLFIMOT2BjFqGu3h8Dd1Mj4K7t_L2jpBC4ah_XZ5XAvuMw448h1ymHymjqcE2nylnv568Nxw6Iif4BFvv7iCTvdLHus7q/s320/DSC03516.JPG" border="0" />jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-59790651325427427932008-10-30T11:21:00.000-07:002008-10-30T12:58:05.523-07:00Costume Pictures!<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263014714013190914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgufgsFlJgJcajnv1lL2YGMx2oo9IlbLOLSkKp7eL02ouIB-4SgcIMM-_vjrqeItlB5YWfBUMRwVZk4quCObuE0JeeNiCpG9FGpaK_id-AKPFstEoTELALwulSS31Q0DznIr12G6DzkaN4G/s320/EL3_9060.jpg" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHAZQvD5O3gMY20OhGhcDf0ikjtn0nVuGhgPemUmHPeO0eHPunS7JY43vunh6sxPxCbBqqlXomyLMfGpFgNiJQ-i8XlAYRWlxck1v8B8U5omTpM-Agt4cUC42mQBB2PRUblId9FAbtoOX/s1600-h/EL3_9066.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263014727639201330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTHAZQvD5O3gMY20OhGhcDf0ikjtn0nVuGhgPemUmHPeO0eHPunS7JY43vunh6sxPxCbBqqlXomyLMfGpFgNiJQ-i8XlAYRWlxck1v8B8U5omTpM-Agt4cUC42mQBB2PRUblId9FAbtoOX/s320/EL3_9066.jpg" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263014715237101970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyT8LzAD72hoUEHq4RfHmP-N-dq_GiysoN65du9hzu4PdsjZCe7fWHMNCb15Jq_vvPs2IGacxZh7Zhln8136f2S9hpF3W2bJiPkxYVErmxpc5ewDNZTHCgDjYqhWBXd2qsGDRrd_XFVsyz/s320/EL3_9056.jpg" border="0" />We went to a Trunk or Treat last Saturday and Tina was there taking pictures. She snapped a few shots of my kids in their costumes and they turned out great! I told you Clara's was hilarious and Nolan's was adorable. I was super busy that day so I didn't have time to put the lights on the Christmas tree. I'll take pics on Halloween with the lights in.<br /><br /><br />**Edit for those that wonder: Nolan is an alley cat and I made Clara's costume.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-25833396716565807082008-10-29T21:21:00.000-07:002008-10-29T21:59:43.084-07:00Hello There.So, its been a while! I've been a blogging bum lately. No time or desire. I do have a few pictures, but everytime I sit down at the computer to upload them, I find something more interesting to do and then, look at the time!<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div>I'm repenting now, if you're interested. I solemnly vow to blog at least once a week from now on, unless there's a family emergency or I decide not to. </div><div><br /></div><div>Its been hectic! I'm spinning around trying to figure out where the month went. I swear it just started, but Halloween's in two days and I'm pretty sure that's the end of the month. The ball is rolling and its not going to stop until January. Not that I don't like the holidays. I DO! But I'm not prepared. I finally understand what my mom was talking about when she said Christmas is stressful. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anywho, back to the hectic stuff. I've had a lot of cakes, 1 of which I managed to take a picture of. You'll see though, that its two different pictures of the same cake. Intrigued? You should be. We've just been running around, taking the kids places and trying to get things done. We went to Gardner Village twice. The first time was to just walk around and see the witches and the second was for Wee Witches Weekend, which was a MADHOUSE of little witchy girls and a multitude of girl scouts with pink badges. It was loads of fun though. Got Pics!</div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262804800885468930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAGAvtMOyJLi7lmwl2_FLRMbgot19IvjZkbCOq-z_R3f7e9JiLY6vwLhz6xu-3XePdhLK79WJBhphqnw59bwSRcSEZB3CocIHZw3dgEyVxIHot0J9_KXvjV8RFAo4GdO2DHqDTnfAd4FcE/s320/DSC03398.JPG" border="0" /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262804807647477714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxwTQ2_iEkIZ0Pc5xkpo2nxbm6OOLk7kc8n5PPcNVyqFmktjF8l5KgWvp13huJxezNIeawwoXhdlbsUyJbXvl7wxESFt4B1-QchAOHIjaezBliPVVEj2vrFyUbIzfABUpINI_FObzktOj-/s320/DSC03400.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262804811708432514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-uHgs3zeUpCFtis18KxD4i0GiKY2tdb1uVXBeNemMlAvVOY8Erd-XD_KW3nMxvCtn-nC6JXnyZ2YlHfWWitzGnsJj_PhUC7WdeVm7uUopa2wAU68NKHmCHNzZf_VUezyzm_vhTaeR1Osr/s320/DSC03412.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262804816427890562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 250px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbmK9udWbZnLhBCDChUCLXieErfQUy2UYsOWbvNKAGrmB95M_f_9Kgit2OC8yc1zyqBpQLctoIxpHoxtAE66uHYtbX6Uv0TypxdRnAMEyxWUMMeZjnZyNGRTmzmqk7b9AcHEdaHyRCxTi/s320/DSC03447(1).JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262804824272262658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixGBJBobypky0cEdIXXJ91qnwMRWk5YvEaEgGayCjeqkWQrGktrDeN8_OXyMRu3FWWMDYwB4LwNmxRA6rB4Ssz1JOkw6q7cjguOyU_8DN7ut9p3uHFSf4Sr7zGcm-nPAef5aDri2KkB6w2/s320/DSC03479.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div>So here's a cool cake story. My sister called me a few weeks ago and ordered a cake for someone who was having a baby at her work. She said it was a boy and I could just pick a cute baby boy cake to do. I've done this cake three times already, so why not one more? Its cute, its boyish, its perfect. So I get the cake done the night before because she has to pick it up early in the morning. She comes to my door that Friday to pick it up and says something like, "Oh, I forgot to tell you, the baby's a girl." Um, fabulous. The cake says oh boy. Its about as un-girly as you can get. So she calls in to work and says she'll be a little late because I have to make the cake girly. I scraped off the oh boy, added a little purple and wrote oh baby instead. Still, not the girliest cake you'll come across, but I tried. Its like a very confused baby cake. </div><div> </div><div>Before:</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262805200327664578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbIc2kj7iwVkSWqh4LuLoEVCklK_Ijw8JDXdiQIJMgxS7ne4ffzwRuhLbag-9Y_K1hHKXfcEa_9z2mQ_ZShMKNCTa_OFeY701eAu81WjS9yE4OFhB5rbWQ-s3tc8wFKd3KKaXPiVnqEZvA/s320/DSC03487.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>After:</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262805206566285522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqOih-_m991qHG-xur0_VF2jHCVz-D0gIcUE-_3usH1Vu3NiVqo2bCcZUkDZ6mJ1uOmdj5z1d-GE2cuz4UNs6yT3ClFDeEzaYTNfLFQmcxR7ozaagl_B2-unBuftk0ZM8EpPBA2kRn3FLa/s320/DSC03488.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>The biggest stress of the month was the Salt Lake City Mommies Trunk or Treat. They offered a few mommies booths this time and I decided (out of pure insanity) to take them up on it. I was planning on selling delectably spooky goodies and hot chocolate. Who doesn't want hot chocolate while they trick or treat? I found out a couple days before the event that I needed a temporary booth permit and an inspection on the booth to sell food. It cost money and I was a little late, so I ended up scrapping that idea. I did set up a booth with some cookie bouquets on display and a fantastic 3 tier halloweeny cake, which I neglected to take a picture of, in true-to-myself-style. Josh was the salesman and gave people his spiel while shoving a business card into their hands. We got rid of about 100 business cards, so hopefully one or two people make an order eventually.</div><br /><div>I decorated about 150 cookies before I found out I couldn't sell food at the booth so I'm giving them out for Halloween. I hope I don't get attacked by nervous parents for handing out something homemade. I think I'll bring a bowl of candy just in case anyone freaks out. Sad you have to worry about that!</div><br /><div>But that's all over! Now I'm just waiting for Halloween to come and go and I can rest for a few days. At least that's the plan. I'll try and take lots of pictures on Halloween. Clara's costume is HILARIOUS and Nolan's is super cute. I'll post again soon!</div></div></div></div></div></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-36102642553653130542008-10-06T16:19:00.000-07:002008-10-06T17:01:52.944-07:00Free at Last!Nolan is free at last. Well, he has been for almost a week. That's how it goes. But he loves it. He's like a little tornado now with two working arms. Okay, he was like that with only one, but this is a bigger tornado. He's soooo close to walking. He can stand up by himself and he's taken a few steps, but he freaks out when he realizes nothing was holding him up and he plops down on his squishy little butt.<br /><div><div>We took him to the doctor's for his nine month appointment last Wednesday and he's still growing. He was 64percentile in weight and 84 in height. He had the flu shot and he just sat there the whole time giving me fives. Didn't even care. Pretty impressive for a nine month old, I think.</div><div>Even more impressive though was Clara. I remember going to get my kindergarten shots when I was five. If I recall correctly, five was the magic number that day because that's how many nurses it took to pin down my wriggling, probably 40 pound body. </div><div>I told her, prior to going into the office, that she would probably be getting a flu shot like Nolan. She was very prepared for it, and strangely, wouldn't stop talking about it. I'm starting to see that she's very much like her father. Anyway, she was all psyched up for the needle but the nurse informed her that she was now old enough to get the flu mist. She was a little disappointed but it smelled like strawberries so it was all good.</div><div>Her hopes were brought back up when we decided to get a celiac sprue blood test on her. Not one moment's hesitation. She walked back to the lab with Josh and let them draw her blood. No tears, no whining. She did say she said "ouch" and "mom! they took ALOT of blood!" That's all she talked about all day. Cute.</div><div> </div><div>Last Thursday or Friday or Wednesday or something, we went for a hike. The weather is FANTASTIC right now. I wish it could be like this all the time. The air is cool, it smells nice, I'm not sweating (not sweating just like a pig, because pigs don't sweat), its beautiful, I feel cozy, I could go on and on. I do realize if it were to stay like this, the world would have to stop spinning, therefore resulting in the loss of all humankind, but I can dream, right?</div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254189744203291746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdnFVMx-HcvUechIRfoLyC_W-gQbP5f7_raw20r_7pRGDoWLVb1x52NQjoMYutHsYdMvb0OtwqR9LlhZhfI2OaVIN6TAmWekDbOcGaziVadyNNtrM8RMcI_dq27uksGWxzSxwp_rVg9ki/s320/DSC03234.JPG" border="0" />This is Clara's silly dance. I wish I had it on video for all to see, but you'll just have to imagine how she got into this pose.<br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254189752571061346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCS_WHEoKsekm3znUWjNVNvCn0sRLDU8ZKtx3a_Rd0YwRo7TIhI4xXa-R_Qv9Pa9pD6cr9-qoprLZaDM-Gghyphenhyphenol9SEn4A9K9_G1mIgXFSU-mDQPOIB0hqsPhOlnp3h7sXVn3NT-wNbpRty/s320/DSC03238.JPG" border="0" /></div></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254189755734560738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAyR6TPCe6Yzz44wx1pHu6oK7VcqJ_h7GYg96L0IoAeHgGjkt7qSr2f-pKtDtW4pnMFGtrTpw2mXtNnxg4lfyrRSTMfxAYnfddHcuww1L2QUeUXaLJWw2z73uj5c4OJZ2jZKWynRBk3tCb/s320/DSC03244.JPG" border="0" /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254189769643140962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZL78sCseUjfjKX1m25QuP1xVzEAOai15TzHgtW5qCr3RMNUfuOqGDQqFygyHDs9G5IWpAFs1Ak_MLzO-WhpBfJe0880dsOYpS5ISYCJ64T-kahRokJVnCzAZPIyB4wDiY9JDf03kHej-y/s320/DSC03249.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>My poor girl fell down and then she threw a fit because she didn't want me to take her picture. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254189773065050482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuKMKkYKvyoCS07u20UAXA5ZBoEyPJSoiT9dFgHi5o3e9MZDhZFfjHSKS-FHtD_qzegDpKDnmoffMNdX2sQbZICvDiU-vIlMxoefKlIIauwr7AYuhGRcnRXv4A9WAn6r4FrXoVrkGsyrb/s320/DSC03267.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>This is about a minute later. She forgets quickly.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254192803966614386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRqtEWXysL9QLfjSDo0RI_ipLDug9k23LI4EQRth5UXWuJj5StzJJnXv3lnE_NqWdtURmGTKejFpWCdZ4l6gmP1ac-Lki8X0Ni7UDhqmse1GdlKiRhmlM0NEuekncqdxZbrxnuzcOwYU9g/s320/DSC03273.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>These are Nolan's awesome socks and shoes. He's not wearing shorts, those are pants that are, apparently, ridden up.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254192808638079394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEithaaQ8u7AymyDl8ZrY2B31IgJjbPtNTEwRagEZHVYInLxvcRwvqKKk5U42_5_Fso9tLVIzGPTxaIT9P4IUum03J0cJcokyBx3lsqEah703t8v2OMcIwcKoD2H8KXekYNq6CI5195Hw9IJ/s320/DSC03278.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Clara climbing precariously on a cliff. No worries, we all made it up alive.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254192807232402338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpNeHz0UFgn_UH1RfIL3sXyHgEcpB6fnTbH_bk-Ry9ewzjFWseTtHgkx0T3UgjeQW8ml8EU3V7-vlZOITGB34O_y47z5_L_zDxQUywy9-5WgO4lqJPZoOA2qiaM0W9E7n7iTSJMhKGiI7P/s320/DSC03312.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Nolan on a rock, I'm holding onto his foot, just so you know.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254192818240594002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh51gxlei0hfGVg2tjOwbVTncUNUC7j_oC74_TXBFDKszdR2kfdqO1voBQtbv0DFWR5nnZiVReXylCsRDkgz8TW4qHFYUjxVpxCcq2cHYMGsNTJvQIqZ8XdCDz8a0v6gdExjTKIBayJgdRA/s320/DSC03330.JPG" border="0" /></p>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-25390385986712451472008-09-22T15:36:00.000-07:002008-09-24T17:02:28.496-07:00Lost and Found<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab6ckg3aikiG8U6GDBVaalGyzAZOm9bhsRmlw77zftTfG6OCv9IMZK6OVD5_o5-JldYeoa2BztP6SYDsrxitpfbPrc_BEKcDfRirtFYx4xOZKDkZ54GeDlByKWWtOMez-qWwFZSncBzUz/s1600-h/IMG_0215edited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248981018344406034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiab6ckg3aikiG8U6GDBVaalGyzAZOm9bhsRmlw77zftTfG6OCv9IMZK6OVD5_o5-JldYeoa2BztP6SYDsrxitpfbPrc_BEKcDfRirtFYx4xOZKDkZ54GeDlByKWWtOMez-qWwFZSncBzUz/s320/IMG_0215edited.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I haven't posted for a while (1) because I'm super duper busy and (2) because I promised pictures of Nolan's cast and I didn't want to post until I had something. I knew where my camera was BUT the battery died and I couldn't find the charger. I looked EVERYWHERE for it.<br /><div><div>Finally after a week or two of looking under rocks and whatnot, I decided to look in the camera bag. Yup. That's where it was. Don't know why and I wish I'd thought of that sooner. I've made three cakes and 50 cupcakes and was horrified when I found out my battery was dead. They were all so cute! </div><div>LUCKILY I'll get to take a picture of one of the cakes I made because I have to make it again. For some weird and mysterious reason, I thought the baby shower was a month before it actually was so when I contacte Ashlee to pick up the cake, she was like "um, that's next month." Lovely. So I gave it to the lady that was picking up the conveniently themed and colored baby shower cupcakes on the same day. They matched perfectly and she was pretty happy. So I practice. Big deal. </div><div>Anyway, I really don't have a picture of Nolan after all that, but my sis posted a picture of him on her blog with her fantastic new camera. I'm going to see if I can figure out how to get it on here. Wish me luck!</div><div>I did it! His cast smells like gym shoes and it has smooshed food all over it. I can't WAIT until he gets it off in a week and a day! Wreckless little kid!</div></div></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-43773951036202740912008-09-05T11:37:00.000-07:002008-09-05T11:47:02.224-07:00Broken.The last few days I've been a little annoyed with Nolan. He's been kind of whiny and really clingy. He just didn't want to crawl around anymore. He'd make me pick him up and carry him everywhere. Not very convenient.<br />Then two days ago, he was crawling around and I thought it was so cute! He would get on his arms and knees instead of his hands and knees. He looked like a little lion, getting ready to pounce. I even mentioned to Josh how cute it was.<br />That night, I went to a card class and I had my mom watch the kids for me. When I stopped by her house to pick them up afterwards, she said that she thought Nolan might have hurt his arm. He'd been crawling funny and any time he put pressure on his hand, he'd cry. He couldn't pull himself up very well either. Ding, ding! I'm an idiot.<br />He'd been doing that for like four days and I just thought it was either cute or annoying. What kind of a mom am I? It took, max, two hours for my mom to figure it out. So I was feeling really bad and I decided if it was still bothering him in the morning, I'd take him to the doctor's.<br />Of course it still bothered him. He'd been crying about it, unbeknownst to me, for four or five days. What's one night gonna do? So we made an appointment and got him in there. The doctor didn't think anything was wrong with him and only let us take him to x-ray to appease us. He said he didn't have any symptoms of a broken bone, but he didn't want to blow us off. So we went down to x-ray and had that done, went back upstairs to the doc's office, waited, waited and waited and finally he came in and had us look at the x-rays. Lo and behold, it was broken. We have to take him in to get a cast on Monday. Poor boy.<br />What is wrong with my children? Clara broke her leg when she was 13 months old. Nolan is 8 months old. Aren't babies supposed to have rubber bones? It takes a lot to break a baby's bone. Clara fell down like six stairs, and landed on carpet and her leg broke. I can't even figure out what Nolan did to break his arm. He was throwing a fit in the bathtub the other day, but he doesn't like water that much. Or it could have been when he rolled down three stairs, but he didn't even cry. My kid falls so much, it could have been anything. I hope it doesn't happen again!<br />I'll post pics on Monday, after he has his cute tiny cast.jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-72840170662470627872008-09-02T21:26:00.000-07:002008-09-02T21:31:58.722-07:00Fall Open House<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDv-KHP2rUvRzsOMpcGrSvYb-TyvQAZsGzhyphenhyphenY4_c73XrzEiSnUD3skE8BTfQB2T8Dd4GWduOQROhFb21FzDSsI_kj2bTXM-DVobeMP6UaGh57h4OEfS1xpZUduWArQTKXoJ3tBgfRoEhu/s1600-h/DSC03133.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241648114411390434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbDv-KHP2rUvRzsOMpcGrSvYb-TyvQAZsGzhyphenhyphenY4_c73XrzEiSnUD3skE8BTfQB2T8Dd4GWduOQROhFb21FzDSsI_kj2bTXM-DVobeMP6UaGh57h4OEfS1xpZUduWArQTKXoJ3tBgfRoEhu/s320/DSC03133.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Robert's had their fall open house this past weekend and I was lucky enough to be able to do a cookie blossom demo. It really wasn't that bad. I brought my kids with me, along with a babysitter and they kind of meandered, while I demonstrated how to make this cute fall cookie bouquet. I didn't get a picture of the actual bouquet, but I had some leftover cookies for it that I took pics of. </div><br /><div>I hear tell that the store manager was very pleased with my display. It is now enshrined in a glass case back by the classroom at the Robert's at Jordan Landing, if any one is interested in worshipping it in all its fall cookie glory. I wonder if they coated it in varnish or if its just going to slowly rot. It will be fun to find out!</div><br /><div></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-60588377603941917702008-08-27T18:04:00.001-07:002008-08-27T18:58:49.218-07:00Viewer Discretion is Advised**Just a note-There is puke in some of the following pictures. Beware!<br /><br /><br /><div><div><div>Okay, so here are a couple of cakes that I did before I went on vacation. It was Sunday, Monday and Wednesday that I made them and I left at 5:00 in the morning on Thursday, so I was working till the end.</div><div> </div>Since you may not be able to tell, this is Yoda. I made him for my brother in law's birthday. I think he looks more like a ninja turtle/yoda hybrid.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239373310996260706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimbF5mBd3ktlr1dJZGJuPfUjSY5jZHhqnDJBcz8ugcTnzunzsYY6HM4slamPmS3n9RyP8d5Gl9fsMD4-S4QIfctfqDu6OcmJ4xLiGL4Mb6IByC1eahS8_4MdssCtJ0aCE-P82OoQh38oMd/s320/DSC02926.JPG" border="0" />This one is for Floyd. He's a convert that my grandparents taught.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239373308251740322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPPuXsiKeGtQ8TyUdGYSmVaZQLI2r27TLoKol6R69MuuTVGqI9KWM06_XABxTfgM0iqRTlprOKFmYic3JF6JLOvQLabYDpIokPNt2KQeKsfs83_f1FLlwF5ZhFZQGRNE1icrvsfGj_jY1r/s320/DSC02945.JPG" border="0" />This is for a charity baby shower for SaltLakeCityMommies.</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239373304308754706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV6jFzRLrYMmrg3xaBU_pn84ST21Z3lVtBJRFIDVIp_0ZqHfrUtCuaUWrBDJuvqNeG1F0NAXwrPggRLS7gGzVcpMweBevHHgHFOAPgBiGcJOjuEbYY0BMZLIDY7-MEYZE0_-KC4pdeutsX/s320/DSC02950.JPG" border="0" />The trip begins! The Turley family (my dad's parents) have been planning this family reunion for about forever. I don't remember exactly when but its been years in the making. I'd been really excited to go and see all my family that I never get to see. Just not excited to travel all the way to Missouri. I didn't even think flying was an option and driving with two young children does NOT float my boat. Turns out Josh was only able to take off enough time to fly to the reunion, so our hand was forced. Boohoo.<br /><div>I was kind of nervous about the flight. I hadn't been on an airplane since I was ten and Clara's never been on one but she was really looking forward to it. I remember my last flight. It was from England to Texas. Pretty long flight. The food wasn't good, except breakfast. I loved looking out the window and seeing the tiny mountains below. The plane was HUGE! I felt very safe flying.</div><div>We make it to the airport and start boarding our plane. I look in and my stomach just ties itself in knots. This plane was sooooo tiny. It looked like the littlest breeze would just toss it out of the sky. I sucked it up and sat down. The take off was nerve-wracking. The flight and landing were worse. I was freaking out. Clara loved it, only it screwed her up pretty bad. She didn't puke on the flight but once we got our rental car, it was partially digested food showers for everyone. </div><div>Our rental car and Clara BEFORE</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239373317962090482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdZexApDvc5ZY4Rzt08WSCZorN3eJgakzYK8gliiT8nP1ON4NEkXMQvc6wqW63Dn5EYgXBRmjkLSdK-CO10R_M6zY5h3uWN24XKS6AntDpt5Mm94R8G2naesKARgy9MFu5gVYXgnX4Y9Wy/s320/DSC02952.JPG" border="0" />The aftermath.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239373322005853122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoMgiHIcLE6brq9WyRJl5DVJsS6tkfcqc-p9JjnBD9vmZaH3LBKjSzAnT4KH_mG0kHAJhahLhcI9YsZR16XVTOcCFbFkUCdtidb1NR5fn_h6MOAh7oD_eIUWU-eArIm2asoIn5BWeMrQnz/s320/DSC02954.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239374392087892642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtqYrg2RwBp2kWSAL7oXsVPqWFc6G9xklSQUTweQ1EymYScnbjHiFkdNQGcHRWXr5hoLyyuBTlLB0zrWiDbwuWYgFA2n3-SiWYLFY8rjk5fIG-nDUrEDtuotorygj1SJ_Z-lldNcOYWe3t/s320/DSC02955.JPG" border="0" />She puked in the happy meal box, she puked out the window, into the wind and, consequently, back into the car, she puked in the hotel, the parking lot, the restaurant, the Vocal Point performance. I was swearing up and down that she had the flu but Josh won when we bought her motion sickness pills and all was well. That was fun. That was our first and part of the second day of our vacation. When we arrived in Missouri, we got our car and headed towards Nauvoo. It was a 4 1/2 hour drive. We got there late on Thursday night, just in time to watch Vocal Point. It was a great performance. A very funny and talented group. The next day we went to old Nauvoo and saw all the historic sites and houses. We got to play pioneer games and try to walk on stilts. It was really fun. My parents were there with us until we split up at about noon. They headed to the reunion at Crowder State Park and we went to Carthage Jail.</div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239374412106785698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8oqQwHrd82u7WhHxWpiUz2uhHTnA3zu1My-u6Hdg5GuP2NF85Hn2tRavzN4GDumrVUXgW4yoa_F0wmz5U5Ok-LDk6MXtxBdppk60K-SjY-57-q6lAMeW6LX-QVY_lDohegCZEqXhcOU2/s320/DSC02982.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239375616813329634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-ENI02fBcgBAVEMJfAgkGDt2G9w3niFAvD_Kf_WZMc_X78WeRlaAraUBMMvfv9qVIlKJxyGzgWvy3SnzzLQ28bOdPke7AfB8yVxpZkeKUWjoHzaQla6yPw4eOxxv1-K3pFg3909QpaPl/s320/DSC03002.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239374397738739954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RSbWajqsP9lEiRLhYqjSpGO_66hGJQDDDIs4rmJGduWprSmqHpSXlP9P-x2v5p2aYGJiAobIaZHL_2_jB-cv9E6LnlCERiLjE1hhaZAPntW_oubEajjBx5atScuO-DD2Yq4XL7tFO7rx/s320/DSC02964.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239375620489769634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi78zIhi2VHax_qgl5HYeBu3CPq6kruTk8mwXUA1_77DhMHaa-wfwinO_ooIS3NKpdvGsPyPBf-Q9qt2GN5EhsoN9wc80gEQ0v014Gw_hWaslrq_d4kHFxMSlufeA-wmooT7zIs4btPaYbJ/s320/DSC03027.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239375610100438690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5V5EndvpLeglmF-fvIpKww1Aab7kfRk3dT_hmWH9eclywEJv6K24wU4p_P_HJArIFf0DMrRwCVRTULq2auFgz1KVjSCbrCfrOa_HbPyueHwp2GzmsChVESLXA94MD14suTXVZn9Z3zUf_/s320/DSC02985(1)2.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239374412987547202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsmmzEA9RX12zrOY65P-R3DtuxcxBUxlkxc3mroShFzAjzrGubzNe4eRQMOoGpuY72nFGZxMphWl_QUTzbIIXDxnIUmclNtDHvVDYwxw2NRQGGNKlXOOnywKMwguxvrgP6GpeckVP4rE8/s320/DSC02976.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239374405142287922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtU_o1KbOE7CfQDO_8Qdz7ktDL9JEWXXpkhI-h1KfvPsJiEcOZQCWNv3OdXxeV9kYliJkGn6AyfhdEqvEP3XXlcrkcKnlpYpq4C5T-paqFTAb_FFFQ9a9oXA56N9mWH5yxWFogfX6_-oYO/s320/DSC02974.JPG" border="0" /></div><div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239377790703585938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIMTzNuYewbAie0au49VSxzSiwNkyyC7x-AzkrdzIK32DqQIOgZ4QSbYux5SagaLD1HpaxjDTKBapwV5WZIqIrQATBdL1wXoRZ0zWDYGb_2WfqDKrqfviijSn9qykg3O8zeu-c9c7kRhNp/s320/DSC03087.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239376740299083698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsuEZFHBLhdo3TJrlwJS4zN1d9ma0fDPwIQ-DYaPy1FwLaIiAFEywOw-behawMVvxNEFy8pagHbugJcITYqU8S7mWevgHyvH3Lurdwswtoi7-nXYq_ZP7M5z8KUAGKVTWBx3N_iWtN7KY/s320/DSC03082.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239375633222685602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3EZ57ueEzxP9UfVRzBv8TQ2F4Vk3F0XQYyRZt1214SRwh8cANbzH-4-fQ_kGfdjdmia8JGjAYrtDEEl5aSeA1-9-OWBOq5YXU7OVJlP0DUQ9o6j-rFAPJ94R_fXcikm1mj6hs9W5e14Ri/s320/DSC03089.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239375630341091298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZE4CfeVNnsb08i0PNYQN74DQevcI8wXomMVQ9IMxddk_qm0lFIGfzEfyAsn-fcKw_hPC-FeEp1T3LelIEYENw8-BSETj2y-XfZnZJRvGgnf2rpgWnaeJN6bzhYokuDHXkrndpDyBFkOqM/s320/DSC03055.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239377794606678850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4e0TatOnPP9LfqUeYNZ2uF6uJLlOopFt6o8Iiw5OZB07sMCa7dJVMymlm0HCE4mloWJ114rjyxSCtRstyhzVpOqKClNRpCz_Q9s1_pVN7hISvJ7LmfYcQ9pbJFI8A8YwLmWUufLTPM8a/s320/DSC03095.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239376732834788562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi02BaS6FRf_Kw4uZPbvC7HwmoqgIMSx0o1DSYPZJCKemzmreRjqqSLahYa2G9ZPrBTFS61o_SAxU9zxAdF9Vrnd4WaM5I3LMWwvc80MdYttWaoEzvtZl0NEX7-rqB6yFFDwnZMvBGW08Cd/s320/DSC03078.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239376729877491666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7oxpfI2Rmxij1RGdz-4JV-HlHLR75wiZTNjz3W9TSz4Xwo7ISGU0q8xIuNNKkeDSswUt53cjSMK44LHlqNuEl63x1xYMHFSo4lLnC_e_TzFK9LTkFKAUkYT1y1UIHbuDahQcX5ZtqqOkl/s320/DSC03071.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239376728099788258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-obm5vNN9ONUXVUVppSjwuno_b4ZuxzAFymP5N1X4ZVlw9cWq7C7yJ2L8ciAJXLwBKu2-gCoePoPPD6QFHhSIT8zUq7qJ14xqqLC2m89o3bKtN8WrZmrkexce_8gzu4ZFpuNLjGgIbE5f/s320/DSC03063.JPG" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239376721720306466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitma2jO2DUYs8HUaC05-b33HICgQ_dr_uCU92IpsejsKc8c_WZB2NQmiYOOWhqYl2BbiA-XyV_LCi-IkEx2i8C6qjOYIVWxmR99RUwTyu0B7ugG3aCMxb5uernCl5cKn_Bh8bonymggsZ4/s320/DSC03067.JPG" border="0" /></div><div>That place is so sad. I just wanted to cry the whole time I was there. Its very interesting to know all the facts about the day of the prophet's martyrdom. Several wonderful, powerful men died that day, but the Lord's restored gospel continued. </div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239377798098048706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh786mJX-bnyv_ALUu9mB35XaiLORGha5Ub6TMbBtmO9U398Sj6XGMyQIFCyS5s2suOV3KNW3YMjsjT6Hdd2INBHwCcv0Iko3yVgSXRpTk9uzWzgUNS9rMZafTRiUH306j4MQlSWPOHK4zs/s320/DSC03104.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239377802856994258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjoXNHDtAIoyPvvR6O-aLJSBcFA5fdSM286c7s2XR-dIrraqsEnLrVzTqp7MTFYpNEaceZs6dOYkRSzZhSGgAmBYMQEltEzi-bW46_Dxr-LQ-4VpCWeM5ss5oQhFtjPhjZlSD7_e565lV/s320/DSC03105.JPG" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239377806595616610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZeClntU49vPjy_Zgnm8jK3TK4lVVZMfikYj4uBCSducNUPsV3PyTE8wgM8DindV4IHPK9r8q_Hb-aqp53F6M-PYGIFA7xtSxPP5t_JrNJY6Ei_1LC7LOMMYB_0W57E-R7GrFjytPT78pw/s320/DSC03106.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>After that we finally headed to the reunion, another long drive. It was soooo much fun to see everyone though! We ate and played games and ate and visited and ate and slept and ate. The kitchen was going 24/7! That's what happens when you have to make three meals a day for 106 people! It was so cool seeing everyone grown up and hearing what they've been up to and their testimonies and talents. I can't wait until the next one, although I'm sure I'll have to.</div></div>jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6804025561365821350.post-17656174045814237002008-08-16T15:03:00.000-07:002008-08-16T15:17:11.469-07:00Mama's Going to Knock You Out, HUH!Josh always says that I had a deprived childhood. I'm thinking, "I had food, clothes, toys, all that stuff, I didn't feel deprived. I think you're the one who had the deprived childhood." But he insists because I don't know one New Kids on the Block Song, or because I never got to enjoy Guns n Roses in their prime, that I was deprived.<br /><br /><div><div>He sings this LL Cool J song all the time. "Mama said knock you out, I'm gonna knock you out." Something like that. Clara has picked up on it, only she says "Mama's going to knock you out, huh". Its pretty funny. </div><br /><br /><div>Anyway, I have a really busy week as far as cakes go. FIVE! I barely have time to think. My poor kids are going to think back on THEIR deprived childhood if this keeps up. It wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't working too. So two down, three to go. Here's some pics!</div><div> </div><div>I donated a gift certificate worth $50 of cake to Salt Lake City Mommies for their annual auction a few months ago and the winner cashed it in with this cute Luau cake for her daughter's first birthday. It was so fun to make! I love the kind of "scene" cakes.</div><div> </div></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235241510256386322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrMuDE_hlgSR_hSqtVsFRGiVlJ90R_3tdrqrafEfgfa1BBQgqarqHUobfmmDOiLRYZPBCEN5vMLgYZDek5Zm0rHRQEae9TN868brboMu7TZrs4f6Y5FpnevsrDNeJNikQbvGjfjli1GNRO/s320/DSC02913.JPG" border="0" /></p><p> </p><p>This one was for my favorite photographer, Tina. Well, for her daughter. She's getting married in Vegas and Tina wanted to get a cake for her. She's driving it all the way out there in a cooler! I really hope it makes it!!! We traded for this one. She gave me some more images from our last photo session. SO CUTE!</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235241518388628898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXLzcZs-1pAxZUQibmNM6qJDpMVI7IWm0SOJAqEYXhMqYJnFDhvLoTCZ_01Xcy-HEF_rqfhys9GpWEHGSyjaXJjwuZ98M1U5OAh1r0CeTjPFxuUhgO5s8k-OXA2HOdm1DRyFRE4LXvfXPQ/s320/DSC02917.JPG" border="0" /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235241776431992770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhueNdH_opA2PxXcEvI3zi3WC4FRbBka0mhv0wqbGRdPeiaeuwFaNk4M1KcCU8sewXfEt3OlWQpBP6q6yjxYa76CcwEH6J_uWIKCpgX6OVBizTvgFuke9kV1ps3QZq675Sk-0Pgp-xJoDf/s320/Garden+Park+Nolan.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235241775156754642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYkxqqP5K_lQamsCGqbRmIjSCMT2G6pithsnKAr4kThbDd0cRz41lNOabhcakI-JmyMSmmL8rl0wXh6-OpjLGKsyQAY9edzlMNPef0AXgHiCm8TDgmYvtx6L4kQ5uJfJcx5l-L5cP6g2y/s320/Garden+Park+Clara.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235241773103134002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaYE3TBrHYbc3z_LLk6M1_eLScqtfCCQWavj3zi36zG_AuTp3UfxqTwpWRl-XTAMjHUklIlzhFE84VrIGVZlAkeon_b3Fn-AVqxJQRDO5BwWiVM-QLBhJW7GqEEWXEJgxma2-J4dfsmJqY/s320/Garden+Park+Nolan2.jpg" border="0" />jjertmannhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17145664208852934283noreply@blogger.com6