tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74903366942168612272024-03-13T08:59:38.166-04:00FireFliez on the LilyPadFireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-48648741438684776322012-08-03T09:53:00.000-04:002012-08-03T09:53:53.790-04:00First Day: The Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VXkcnV25uo8/UBu67US2ONI/AAAAAAAAALQ/1EDVGDrxW0o/s1600/2012-13%2Bschool%2Byear%2527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="320" width="214" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VXkcnV25uo8/UBu67US2ONI/AAAAAAAAALQ/1EDVGDrxW0o/s320/2012-13%2Bschool%2Byear%2527.JPG" /></a></div><br />
How great do these girls look? Fresh-faced and smiling through the nerves....both of them about to embark on a new year in new schools. They must have been excited because our history with first day of school pictures has been pretty sad and usually end up with them looking extremely annoyed at each other and me. <br />
<br />
Needless to say, I didn't sleep at all the night before our big first day. Not a bit. That just catpulted my emotions into overdrive. Drop off for Savanna was fine, knowing 3rd grade isn't all that different from 2nd grade, I didn't even feel guilty just dropping her off in the car rider lane as we passed a lot of other parents personally escorting their children in. Besides, any excercise in independence will do that child a world of good. <br />
<br />
Next to drop off was my Claire. With her brave face, and her map strategically positioned where she could sneak a peak if necessary, my little girl started high school. She had graciously played Barbies with Savanna the day before. Today, she would sit next to an 18 year old boy (a football player with a lot of facial hair, she informs me) in an art class and kindly lie to him about how his drawing wasn't all that bad. <br />
<br />
Though I hadn't slept, I decided to do myself a favor and meet up with some other moms so I wouldn't have to sit alone at home and wonder if she was wandering the halls or sitting alone in the cafeteria. It would serve me best to drink vodka (yes, we did, at 8:30 am) with them and seek comfort in knowing that my extreme annoyance of my husband wanting to tag along for the grand finale of the big drop off after I had done every ounce of preparation to get us there was indeed, a common feeling amongst us. <br />
<br />
Then I went home and took a nap. In Claire's bed. <br />
<br />
Picking up Savanna first, she announces that her day was just like any other day, but in a nicer school. My phone started ringing and I swear she got at least 10 phone calls before dinner from some of her new friends. <br />
<br />
Picking up Claire, I was just as nervous as drop off. But there she was waiting for me. Standing in the sun, not at all wilted, in those fabulous cowboy boots. She had survived. She didn't get lost. She had helped out a new student who was obviously distraught at the new school. There was no boy who had captured her heart and stolen her away from me. It was ok. <br />
<br />
Its all ok. <br />
<br />
And today she did it all over again. In flourescent pink Vans. <br />
<br />
<br />
~xoxoAJ~FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-61088790395119633812012-08-02T01:29:00.001-04:002012-08-02T03:28:58.990-04:00First DayAbout mid July I start counting down to the first day of school. I have had enough of the "I am bored" attitudes and the "I am so over doing chores" complaints that inevitably rear their ugly heads. So every year we get to the day when we register and meet our teachers and anticipate that first day of school...and it usually doesn't get a lot more exicting around here than the girls winning the battle over me purchasing that one extra tacky folder with the kitten on the front. <br />
<br />
Mid-July is also when I start getting everything ready for "back to school". We have done the usual shopping and activities. School supplies. Uniforms (I hate them, in case you didn't know my opinion already). Shoes. Everything I will need for nutritious lunches and snacks. Backpacks are ready. Breakfast is prepped and ready to go. I have my to do list ready for all the things I am going to be able to get done in this big, empty, quiet house tomorrow. <br />
<br />
In the past, this is when I have a glass of wine, put the dogs to bed, and breathe a sigh of relief that I have gotten it all done. Not tonight. <br />
<br />
Claire begins high school tomorrow. <br />
<br />
At this point, I can only pray to God that I have gotten it all done. <br />
<br />
Have I taught her to love herself enough to not throw up in a bathroom just to fit a mold? <br />
<br />
Have I taught her to stand up for herself and what she believes in? <br />
<br />
Will she really call me from a party if she isn't capable of getting herself home? <br />
<br />
There are a 78 thousand thoughts running through my head right now that make glue sitcks and binders seem so insignificant. I know my child. Claire is already a better person than I am. She is so grounded. But I feel like I am throwing her into an arena and while I know I have tried to equip with her with everything she needs to fight her way through all the challenges that she will be faced with, I still wonder. Did I get it done?<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is the first day of Claire. The first day of a journey that will shape the woman she will become, the path she will take. The friends, the boys, that will break her heart, that she will vacation with in 20 years. It's the music she will love. It's the awkward first kiss. The awesome second kiss. Life shattering arguments with your best friend. Making new friends. <br />
<br />
I am so excited to continue to get to know the girl that has started to become Claire. I can't wait to see her in her cowboy boots walking up to the front door of high school, feeling confident that she knows where she is going in that big building (because she studied the map all night AND the boots are bad ass, that's important). I cannot wait to hear about the first day. I told her she only has to do the first day of high school once. We will both sigh a huge sigh of relief to get it over with. <br />
<br />
High School. Here we go. <br />
<br />
So when you are buying cap erasers and glue sticks, start having the important conversations with your kids. About values. About self respect. Because I assure you, no amount of college ruled paper and notecards compares to knowing you have also sent her in with a good head on her shoulders. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
~xoxoAJ~<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-5005659124999417432011-03-28T22:00:00.004-04:002011-03-28T22:24:50.421-04:00Must See TVI really have no words for this. But I would love to hear yours. Please comment after viewing.....<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzKynNOWvlDDoRYEt71jsLayVTXktmIUlua9JzV3RPwL3xpEnLxpvg0WkpkVYnm20-xYg8YhCvzgUH4YYDqSw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-46346879378813353392011-03-08T08:15:00.011-05:002011-03-17T12:31:55.746-04:00Boys Will Put You on a Pedestal...Just to Look Up Your SkirtI adore my girls. I know, what mother doesn't? They are beautiful and smart and hilarious (see previous post) and so boys eventually sniffing around the house is inevitable. I cannot, however, even imagine what it will feel like to watch as some punk pulls out of my driveway with one of my baby girls riding shotgun. <br /><br />Claire has had a few "boyfriends" since the 5th grade. But she has a lot of BOY friends, and they eventually want to be her BOYFRIEND and she is left annoyed and wondering how hanging out in the backyard could catapult them into true love. (There is one, however, that I deeply adore and hope can hang in there long enough for her to change her mind). One even asked her to prom. No, not this year. He wanted to reserve a spot by her side for their Senior Prom. In 5 years. <br /><br />She is sensible, and smart, and can think before she acts. <br /><br />Savanna, however, gives me cause for concern. <br /><br />Valentines Day I went to have lunch with my youngest baby at school and witnessed boys walking by and professing their love to her. I even heard a marriage proposal. Hoping that it was just the chicken nuggets I had smuggled into school, I asked her if that happens a lot or was it just the love that filled the air that particular day. "Every day, pretty much," and follows with a sigh. She then explains that she doesn't really care because she has a boyfriend. A real one. Sitting right over there. She is pointing to the one boy who is paying her no attention. Oh dear. <br /><br />I have to point out that since Pre-K she has been obsessed with a boy who she said "didn't say he loved me out loud, but he thinks it in his head". So having a REAL boyfriend is a definite step up. <br /><br />Upon further investigation I realize that he has professed OUT LOUD that he is her boyfriend. He even shook my hand when I introduced myself. Approved. Until she tells me that he lets her go into his desk and get whatever she needs (erasers?). She allows him the same privilege. Now I am concerned because I realize they are basically first-grade-living-together.<br /><br />Here are pictures from the surprise wedding shower we had for her teacher. <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qRHqkRrLRwM/TYC2wZINoxI/AAAAAAAAAHA/nt8_WVYd-qY/s1600/DSC00171.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qRHqkRrLRwM/TYC2wZINoxI/AAAAAAAAAHA/nt8_WVYd-qY/s200/DSC00171.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584664480434725650" /></a><br />Notice Ben lingering in the background. <br /><br /><br />The look on her face in this picture tells me she is waaaaaayyyyyy too comfortable in that veil....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BBzOM7jI0Rg/TYIDjYwYKcI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3ouyQlfY2vU/s1600/DSC00186.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BBzOM7jI0Rg/TYIDjYwYKcI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3ouyQlfY2vU/s320/DSC00186.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5585030394368502210" /></a><br /><br />I try to just take it one day at a time and play it cool, which can be difficult since the first piece of info I get from Savanna when I pick her up from school is the daily boy report. Which is usually about a boy (not her boyfriend) whom she claims to not like but can't stop talking about. In fact, today's plan (and there needs to be a plan because she thinks her friend at school likes her boyfriend and he likes her too) is to discuss this situation with the boy whom she claims not to like (but can't stop talking about). On the playground. Because they are in FIRST GRADE! <br /><br />Anyways, I guess I will update everyone with a list of stores where Savanna has a bridal registry, and if you happen to see any deals on fabulous prom dresses, you just let me know :)FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-59905883254268049552011-03-07T22:56:00.005-05:002011-03-17T12:32:17.972-04:00You are welcome.....<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx_789dz8perSvklgSIWHTFWuIvjMCaOyLX3_brAOKC_PE0CLX0XP01a8lsCrFTHf2qdUFfcRl5vAoOrCT6zQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-31850943559442695752011-02-20T17:56:00.006-05:002011-02-20T19:46:03.079-05:00Bella.Ok, so back in the day (like April 2010) we still had Bella. Here is one of our favorite memories of that sweet dog.<BR> <br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dy5PFnXFXXN18BQRuzAm0RjKLivoedYoQypAcg0cvnfsPVdAZ_15MReqiQgCUW-8WkUXaZAZb2FCQCnDsMNmg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><BR><br /><br />Bella now lives with Hannah and AJ. I love it when AJ sees me at school, gives me a hug and a big smile and says "Bella is doing great!". I know Bella must adore her boy and her girl.FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-21761201368976204562011-02-20T11:05:00.000-05:002011-02-20T11:11:07.331-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ambSovHgA54/TWE9B8h1EwI/AAAAAAAAAGo/jWBvieKgz2I/s1600/Catch%2BUp_.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ambSovHgA54/TWE9B8h1EwI/AAAAAAAAAGo/jWBvieKgz2I/s400/Catch%2BUp_.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575804917298565890" /></a>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-53733087394729998792011-02-18T21:08:00.005-05:002011-02-18T21:19:21.533-05:00Can you believe it?????<FONT SIZE= + 10 FACE="georgia" FONT COLOR= "#330000">Updates are coming.....Changes are being made......</FONT><br /><br /><br /><FONT SIZE= + 200 FACE="georgia" FONT COLOR= "#330000"><BLINK>GET EXCITED!</FONT></BLINK>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-20286424978956427382010-05-15T13:08:00.029-04:002010-05-15T13:51:22.593-04:00Overnight<FONT size= +2 FACE="georgia"><FONT COLOR="#FF0099">So, this morning Savanna got dressed, and I mean</FONT><I><B><FONT SIZE = +2 FACE ="georgia"><FONT COLOR="#00FF00">DRESSED.</FONT></FONT></B></I></FONT><FONT size= +2 FACE="book antiqua"><FONT COLOR="#FF0099"> Without any direction from me, she adorns herself in head to toe ruffles, sparkly bracelets, sleek hair and enough perfume to put Estee Lauder to shame. It was all too much for me. Way to grown up. I look at her and ask "When did you get so grown up? When did you get so smart and even more gorgeous? It all happened overnight...."<br /><br />Her response is this, "MOM! Seriously?? I was smart and pretty yesterday! That's just mean!"</FONT></FONT><br /><br /><I><B><FONT size= +4 FACE="georgia"><FONT COLOR="#3333CC">Wow.</FONT></B></I></FONT>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-7294951153795040382010-04-07T17:33:00.003-04:002010-04-07T17:41:23.046-04:00~*Substitute*~By far Easter is the BUSIEST time of the year for this girlie....so in case you are tired of checking the blog & finding no new updates....I am posting a substitute blogger. This woman speaks from my heart and lives in my head. Enjoy.....<br /><br /><embed src='http://www.rooftopcomedy.com/flash/fmpv3/RooftopPlayerEmbedded.swf' bgcolor='#161513' flashVars='baseURL=http://www.rooftopcomedy.com&clipCode=WhatIDoOnSundays' width='448' height='292' allowFullScreen='true' allowScriptAccess='always' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash'></embed><br /><br /><embed src='http://www.rooftopcomedy.com/flash/fmpv3/RooftopPlayerEmbedded.swf' bgcolor='#161513' flashVars='baseURL=http://www.rooftopcomedy.com&clipCode=IWannaBeAHipMomma' width='448' height='292' allowFullScreen='true' allowScriptAccess='always' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash'></embed>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-78003646217546559032010-03-10T18:29:00.004-05:002010-03-10T23:22:15.586-05:00Oh, the DramaI have 2 daughters. Savanna is <span style="font-style: italic;">always</span> in front of the camera. Claire is always giving me dirty looks when I point a lens in her direction. But last night, we had an absolute blast doing Claire's homework which involved memorizing a poem. The more we practiced, the sillier and more dramatic we became. The result....<br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwIuSKdQEqTlJPfv9UOKSe-tN0z-h9YHb-r4EyhkMy_MhN1ysp6ID9DvkltPmuOqVu7gG7MRe58tjKbt29Xvw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br />I begged her to recite the poem this way in class and she won't do it. She is hilarious, and I love her to death.FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-82542045683237392092010-03-06T16:48:00.006-05:002010-03-06T19:06:36.935-05:00Taylor Swift Hair & a Big Fat "Wedding" DressWow. Time. Seriously? You don't really heal anything and I never really have you on my hands to enjoy. You come and go extremely too fast leaving wrinkles and misshapen body parts in your wake. <br /><br />Savanna was one year old when we moved to Jefferson, to the only residence she has ever really known. Savanna has watched in envy as Claire has had the chance to attend parties, dances, stay up late, and do all the "big girl" things an older sibling gets to do. (Being the oldest in a SLEW of siblings, I have always relished in this type of envy, personally.) Finally, however, her time has come. Savanna and Ben attended their first Daddy-Daughter Dance last night. <br /><br />Keep in mind, that we have recently been to David's Bridal to pick up a bridesmaid dress for myself. It took a LOT of talking to convince Savanna that it wasn't the kind of store where you could just try anything on. She and Claire were in a state of bliss amongst all the sequins and rhinestones. (Side note: To the Prom Dress, you've come a long way, baby!) At one point she says to me, "Mommmy, one day when I am gonna get married, can we come here so I can try on a wedding dress?" I respond, "Sure, baby." In my head I respond by begging her to never grow up and making promises to really, really, like the Wiggles this time around....<br /><br />The point is: Savanna went into this dance knowing what was out there on the fancy dance dress market.<br /><br />Her thoughts on what to wear included me totally remaking my own prom dress into one for her and for obvious time and sentimental reasons I refused this idea. So here at the house, we searched and tried on and fought until we found a beautiful, perfect dress. A flower girl dress Claire wore in Ryan and Stephanie's wedding. Yes, a "wedding" dress. Which had to be accompanied with the perfectly polished nails and makeup and hair. Hair. According to Savanna it just HAD to be done like the picture of Taylor Swift she saw "that one time in that one magazine." So Savanna rocked the side ponytail. <br /><br />Yes, you read that correctly. <br /><br />Well, Ben rings the doorbell to escort his date to the car and as they drive off I just about drown myself in tears once again screaming in my head that it is too soon, remembering how many times she has asked me when it would be her turn to go with Daddy to the dance. <br /><br />So Time, I have decided to disregard you. I may be almost 37 years old but I don't really feel that age unless I make up my bed on a school morning or do yard work. So go ahead with your ability to make me sob as my girls grow up and get their drivers license, go to college, get married. I am still gonna jump on trampolines, play music too loud, color in coloring books, and dance to High School Musical dvds in an effort to prove to them that even though they may do "big girl" things, they don't ever really need to grow up. <br /><br /><p style="visibility:visible;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-2a.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="475" width="600" style="width:600px;height:475px"><param name="movie" value="http://widget-2a.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="scale" value="noscale" /><param name="salign" value="l" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/> <param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&il=1&channel=2305843009239162154&site=widget-2a.slide.com"/></object><p style="white-space:nowrap"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=2305843009239162154&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-2a.slide.com/p1/2305843009239162154/ms_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=2305843009239162154&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-2a.slide.com/p2/2305843009239162154/ms_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=2305843009239162154&map=F" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-2a.slide.com/p4/2305843009239162154/ms_t021_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a></p></p>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-77512343712634999752010-02-28T09:05:00.010-05:002010-02-28T12:13:51.399-05:00Wild Week of FirstsWhirlwind.<br /><br />Unpredictable.<br /><br />Cold.<br /><br />Scary.<br /><br />Impressive.<br /><br />All words describing last week. I fell off the face of the earth and entered into a black hole of potty breaks and oh-my-god-where-is-the-dog thoughts every half hour. <span style="font-style:italic;">Ok, I lie<span style="font-weight:bold;"></span></span>. I need to know where she is at all times in the name of furniture preservation. Oh, and something I didn't think about before snagging my precious little fur ball out of the box and rushing her home~~~WARM WEATHER is probably the best time for such an endeavor. Standing outside in 80 degrees below 0 temps is really, really unappealing. However, for the FIRST time, I have toted my puppy upper outside every half hour in the arctic winds with a positive attitude.<br /><br />Dirty things. Poop. Not a fan. But like the bumper sticker advises, it happens. Due to the wildlife roaming the area and the Antarctica-like temperatures, I am not over concerned with making sure Bella does her business in the outer regions of our yard in the straw and leaves. Just outside is good enough for me. The thought of having to scrape it off someones shoe, though.....completely unacceptable. So, for the FIRST time ever, I purchased one of those poop grabbing claw things and I walk around the yard every morning hunting for poo. (Personal note to Abby~~~WOO TO THE POO!!! Sorry, I couldn't resist.)<br /><br />While on the topic of the unpleasant puppy things, Bella has developed an infection of the urinary or vaginal kind. (I tried to prep you for gross with the previous paragraph.) So...for the FIRST time I find myself wiping canine hootenanny more than I wipe my own. <br /><br />Moving on the humans in the household. I finally had to break down and take Nanners to the pediatrician so we could figure out the root of her stomach issues. She is on a STRICT diet for 2 weeks~~~not even sugar free gum is allowed. That's an entire food group to her. And when we were sent to a lab for blood tests, I was tempted to ask for sedation (for myself as much as for Savanna). If anyone has witnessed the child have a splinter you know where I am coming from. Splinter removal can take hours and a call from the neighbors "just checking to see if everything is alright....with all the screaming and such." I was envisioning nurses being pummeled by her kicking legs as she is being held down crying and screaming. She asked me what was about to take place and my policy has always been to tell her straight up when it comes to medical procedures. Her response was that she would just cry on the inside, not the outside. <br /><br />And she did it. She sat in my lap with her head buried in my chest and cowgirled up. She even looked a little at the invasion of her little arm. I was so proud. So, for the FIRST time, I saw Nanners truly be the bravest girl.FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-72267858684283981402010-02-21T22:09:00.008-05:002010-02-21T23:42:40.046-05:00So I went Krogering today......Many of my friends and family know that do the Lollipops Consignment Sale twice a year & set up as a vendor with all my Baileigh Grace fab items. When the 2 & 1/2 day sale is over, I am uber exhausted. I even reported to the nice policeman at the sale that my friend had a GPS stolen out of her car~~~when in fact it had not. I don't even know if she even has a GPS in her car. When I told her the policeman said she should report it she just politely smiled and handed me an Adderall. I just get delirious due to lack of sleep. So, I slept all of Saturday, still woke up groggy today. Just couldn't get out of the funk. Like a hangover without the Jack Daniels. <br /><br />I made my list~~~even had coupons~~~and went to the grocery. Later at home I realized that I left out the main ingredient for dinner tonight~~RIBS. So, I went to Kroger, again. Driving into the parking lot while talking to Abby I see the crowd of shoppers gathered around a big box. It could only mean one thing. FREE PUPPIES. <br /><br />Amber: Abby, tell me not to get a puppy, that it is a bad idea. ]<br />Abby: Seriously, its like having a baby, Amber. DO NOT get a puppy. <br />Amber: Ok....thanks. No puppy. <br /><br />15 minutes later, Abby calls back as I am in Kroger. <br /><br />Abby: Hey, are you shopping?<br />Amber: Yes, you won't believe what I did. <br />Abby: YOU DIDN'T?!?!?!?<br /><br />Yes, I did. She is adorable going into hour 8. A snuggler. Herschel doesn't seem to care for her. And in a couple of days, everyone in Jackson County might hear me cursing in the rain in the middle of the night. <br /><br />But for now, I dig her. <br /><br />Welcome the new addition, Bella. PS....I know you all know I am a Twilight FREAK, but I have always wanted a female dog named Bella or Georgie. So I named her Bella, reserving Georgie for another bulldog one day. <span style="font-style:italic;">SERIOUSLY.....<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IKGO4LBBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/la-4aVE33SY/s1600-h/DSC00408.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IKGO4LBBI/AAAAAAAAAE4/la-4aVE33SY/s200/DSC00408.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440922402006172690" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IKBW6ydbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/i5EHkirNY70/s1600-h/DSC00400.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IKBW6ydbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/i5EHkirNY70/s200/DSC00400.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440922318265284018" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IJsCk2L8I/AAAAAAAAAEo/o3UL-ByzNOM/s1600-h/DSC00397.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IJsCk2L8I/AAAAAAAAAEo/o3UL-ByzNOM/s200/DSC00397.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440921952027291586" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IJlATrfcI/AAAAAAAAAEg/08iHMEeHhf8/s1600-h/DSC00429.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S4IJlATrfcI/AAAAAAAAAEg/08iHMEeHhf8/s200/DSC00429.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440921831159332290" /></a>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-67806280240283799702010-02-20T22:19:00.003-05:002010-02-20T22:25:40.281-05:00Snow Day~Fun DayYes, it is truly rare that we have this much great snow here in Jefferson. Even though I love to make fun of how life tends to pause prematurely when Ken Cook utters the words "possibility of snow" in these parts, it was really refreshing to just have a couple of days to put our normal life on hold and play in the snow. <br /><p style="visibility:visible;"><object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" data="http://widget-44.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" height="475" width="600" style="width:600px;height:475px"><param name="movie" value="http://widget-44.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" /><param name="quality" value="high" /><param name="scale" value="noscale" /><param name="salign" value="l" /><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/> <param name="flashvars" value="cy=ms&il=1&channel=2522015791357604676&site=widget-44.slide.com"/></object><p style="white-space:nowrap"><a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=2522015791357604676&map=1" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-44.slide.com/p1/2522015791357604676/ms_t056_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=2522015791357604676&map=2" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-44.slide.com/p2/2522015791357604676/ms_t056_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a> <a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=ms&at=un&id=2522015791357604676&map=F" target="_blank"><img src="http://widget-44.slide.com/p4/2522015791357604676/ms_t056_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /></a></p></p>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-44616749563543538082010-02-09T08:23:00.020-05:002010-02-09T16:28:00.169-05:00~~My Little Dragon Diner~~<font size =+2 font color ="blue" Face ="monotype corsiva">Ben & I are the proudest parents around and with such good reason. Both girls do great in school, Savanna is a talented cheerleader and Claire makes every free throw shot. We walk around beaming alot of the time, but never more than when the girls get called out for having an <B> <font size =+3 font color ="red"> outstanding character trait</B></font size>. Here is the latest, and I just have to share!</font><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S3HRaQdsH_I/AAAAAAAAACs/9pKXJJnW8tk/s1600-h/DSC00247.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S3HRaQdsH_I/AAAAAAAAACs/9pKXJJnW8tk/s200/DSC00247.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436356474239197170" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S3HRnoFHMII/AAAAAAAAAC0/hnVFkkL8E6k/s1600-h/Savanna+Dragon+Award+pic.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S3HRnoFHMII/AAAAAAAAAC0/hnVFkkL8E6k/s200/Savanna+Dragon+Award+pic.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436356703916863618" /></a>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-57526626258364607682010-01-28T20:35:00.002-05:002010-01-28T20:38:12.058-05:00FireFliez?Firefliez on the Lilypad? Yes, I choose this to represent the little lights in my life that seem to flutter around here, leaving joy and messes in their wake. I don’t really think that they are beetles (unless it is a really bad day), but they are definitely my little bugs. <br /><br />Savanna has figured out the use for the blog. My laughter at her adorable anecdotes now prompts her to say, “Don’t post that.” So I will post as many as I can before she actually figures out how to begin her own blog about her horribly invasive mom. Claire is actually about to launch her own blog~~~so be sure to subscribe to that and get your fill of middle school angst & beautiful custom made jewelry from Baileigh Bead Designs. <br /><br />I started blogging (did I really just use that word?) from the coffee shop in town. This makes me feel, I don’t know….trendy, urban, hip? But only for a fleeting moment, as I imagine this scene is mainly for people who are escaping familiarity in the hopes of being able to focus on the task at hand. I, instead, know 95 percent of the patrons of this fine establishment and will have to conclude my thoughts surrounded by dishes & laundry. Joy.FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-12933430233011283322010-01-26T23:12:00.003-05:002010-01-26T23:22:56.606-05:00Lists, Oh My<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S1-_lWOKp3I/AAAAAAAAACE/BxIZ_Fdi_JU/s1600-h/savanna+to+do+list.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S1-_lWOKp3I/AAAAAAAAACE/BxIZ_Fdi_JU/s200/savanna+to+do+list.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431270323973171058" /></a><br />Someone once asked me how I got it all done, the business, the kids, the rest of life's whooo-haaaa. My answer (in no particular order) was adderall, wine, love & lists. Check out the list Savanna made this weekend. Notice that there is an "X" next to "cherch", because we didn't make it on Sunday.FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-67874903861271586732010-01-26T23:06:00.000-05:002010-01-26T23:08:34.639-05:00Amber & the hairiest nephew, Wentworth.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S1-8IaNIZdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ZQFEaar5OV4/s1600-h/amber+%26+went.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 143px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0yViB3ZEPfw/S1-8IaNIZdI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ZQFEaar5OV4/s200/amber+%26+went.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431266528291481042" /></a>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7490336694216861227.post-68142083971366894142010-01-24T23:05:00.000-05:002010-01-25T00:01:18.614-05:00<font face="monotype corsiva"><font size=+2>I don't really sleep. I have so much to <font size=+3><font color=#6666ff> share</font></font>. I know~~what took me so long, right? <BR> For my <font size=+3><font color=#ff6699>family</font></font> and friends, I hope this is a place you come to for a quick smile as you enjoy your<font size=+3><font color=#663300> coffee</font></font> in the morning. A place that can bring you closer to our life and our family...</font></font>FireFliez on the Lilypadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04381798900015148588noreply@blogger.com1