<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672</id><updated>2011-10-03T14:19:51.267-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Through the Eyes of a child</title><subtitle type='html'>"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." Mark 10:15</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8884973063338056249</id><published>2010-10-23T09:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-23T09:42:28.224-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sea world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPoVMibJI/AAAAAAAAATY/E3jbn9H7jv4/s1600/San+Antonio+041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531281952900017298" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPoVMibJI/AAAAAAAAATY/E3jbn9H7jv4/s320/San+Antonio+041.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPn5ZYgOI/AAAAAAAAATQ/jm2h975h3Rs/s1600/San+Antonio+029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531281945437700322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPn5ZYgOI/AAAAAAAAATQ/jm2h975h3Rs/s320/San+Antonio+029.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPngI5P5I/AAAAAAAAATI/ux4XEuuei1w/s1600/San+Antonio+037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531281938657656722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPngI5P5I/AAAAAAAAATI/ux4XEuuei1w/s320/San+Antonio+037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPnE7ck0I/AAAAAAAAATA/x81Cxp1DomE/s1600/San+Antonio+034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5531281931353494338" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPnE7ck0I/AAAAAAAAATA/x81Cxp1DomE/s320/San+Antonio+034.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We got to have breakfast with some of the sesame street characters. The main characters were Zoe and Elmo and for some reason we didn't take pictures with our own camera but we did get one for free with the breakfast. Technically we paid for it because surely that money didn't all go to pay for that so called breakfast we ate. It was something similar to the continental breakfast we got at our hotel. Either way the kids had a great time and I'm glad we did it. More pictures to come, I have to pace myself I don't want to update too much, y'all will think I've gotten back on track. He he...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8884973063338056249?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8884973063338056249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/10/sea-world.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8884973063338056249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8884973063338056249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/10/sea-world.html' title='Sea world'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/TMMPoVMibJI/AAAAAAAAATY/E3jbn9H7jv4/s72-c/San+Antonio+041.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-3752547297515472512</id><published>2010-10-01T11:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T12:18:26.105-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So much to tell!!</title><content type='html'>Wow It's been a whirlwind since the last time I posted. We had such a busy summer and since school has started it's gotten busier. Who'd have thought that???? We were expecting things to slow down once school started. I think I'll just make a small or large list of all the things that have been happening in our crazy lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June: (Let's see if I can remember all that happened)&lt;br /&gt;1. Eric went to camp with the teens&lt;br /&gt;2. The following week I went home for three weeks to stay with family. Such a fun time!&lt;br /&gt;3. Eric took the teens on his first youth trip with this youth group. It was awesome! No one was seriously injured and no major emergencies. Yes the occasional bus break down, cut open eyelid, possible dislocated shoulder, but nothing major.&lt;br /&gt;4. WE'RE PREGNANT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July: (don't remember much of July)&lt;br /&gt;1. Came home to the busy life of ministry&lt;br /&gt;2. I'm sure there were lots of exciting things that occurred during this month but remember last month we found out I was pregnant so I'm using pregnancy brain as my excuse. That and I spent most of this month and august being miserable with morning sickness all day long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;August: (again not sure that I remember much about this month)&lt;br /&gt;1. Was offered a job at the school that is in our church&lt;br /&gt;2. Signed up Erin for school&lt;br /&gt;3. Decided I should sign up Aiden for school since I would be working in his class.&lt;br /&gt;(I'm the teachers aide in the k-3 class and also do reading tutoring as well as a reading computer program with some of the older kids)&lt;br /&gt;4. School starts and so does the crazy schedule.&lt;br /&gt;5. Eric started friday lunches again for the high school students.This is where we offer a free lunch to the students who want it. We drive buses to the school to pick them up and bring them to the church. It's an amazing opportunity for Eric to get to know the kids and to bring some in who don't go to church. It has grown more and more each week.&lt;br /&gt;6. We finally decide to squeeze in a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sept. (Hopefully I remember more of this since this month just ended yesterday)&lt;br /&gt;1. We set our vacation for this month!!!&lt;br /&gt;2. I have found new love in football&lt;br /&gt;3. I have prayed for patience every day with these three year olds that I work with&lt;br /&gt;4. I love every single kid in my class even though they drive me crazy!!&lt;br /&gt;5. Eric had his first 5th quarter (this may have occurred in august I don't remember) and had 250 teens.&lt;br /&gt;6. Eric had a saw you at the pole rally and combined with the churches in our community...almost 200.&lt;br /&gt;7. We took the kids on our first family vacation and it was amazing. We experienced the best and worst of vacations and loved every second of it. Got lost...got rained on.....couldn't find a place to eat, and sometimes got a little cranky. I can't wait to do it again! I'll post pictures in another post later.&lt;br /&gt;8. I have finally started to feel this baby move a little bit. I have been so worried about this pregnancy and have absolutely no reason to but would still appreciate prayers.&lt;br /&gt;9. Missing my family a lot it's been so long since we've seen any of them, but enjoying our Hereford family. They have taken good care of us!&lt;br /&gt;10. Oh and the biggest news (besides the baby) we bought a suburban! Can you believe it we're true Texans now. God was in that, what a blessing we got such a good deal I'm not sure the guy who sold it to us made anything of the sale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That in a nutshell is what we have been up to for the last four months. I'm sure I've missed a lot  but I will hopefully start to get regular updates on here and will post first day of school pics and vacation pics soon. I'm sure I've got some fun pictures from our visit home too. I am out for now I have a sick little boy today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-3752547297515472512?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/3752547297515472512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-much-to-tell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3752547297515472512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3752547297515472512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/10/so-much-to-tell.html' title='So much to tell!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-1894891039907797538</id><published>2010-05-21T08:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T08:22:58.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clarissa??</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a beautiful day here in Texas. I decided it was a day to be outside. So we got ready, I got my coffee, a nice book and lathered us all up in sunscreen. We are so grateful to Mimi and Papa for this wonderful swing set we have to play on and to Grandma and Grandpa the best turtle sandbox ever!! It makes our back yard a fun place to be.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as I was sitting in my chair minding my own business, Erin comes up to me and informs me that she will be changing her name. This is how the conversation went.&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Mom, i was thinking of changing my name.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh really? What name were you thinking?&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Clarissa&lt;br /&gt;Me: Huh? Why do you want to change your name?&lt;br /&gt;Erin: uh, well Erin is kind of boring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT!! Boring!! This child that I was in labor with for almost a full 24 hours is telling me that the name I picked especially for her is BORING! I don't think so!(this of course was in my head I refrained from speaking this aloud)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this conversation I immediately called my mom and we tried to get out of Erin where she got the name Clarissa from and still have yet to figure that out. The good news is that I think she has since forgotten and still answers to the name Erin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-1894891039907797538?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/1894891039907797538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/clarissa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1894891039907797538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1894891039907797538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/clarissa.html' title='Clarissa??'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5938472623826666807</id><published>2010-05-20T07:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T07:27:52.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You forgot to do this!</title><content type='html'>I was woken up by my loud children this morning. I was expecting them to sleep in because we had no rest time yesterday and church last night. So it was definitely late when they were finally asleep. I went to bed expecting to have a restful morning, but to my suprise they were both slamming doors running through the house and it wasn't even 8:00 yet. I was only a little bitter about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was sitting in my chair stewing about the fact that I really wanted to be in my bed still sleeping Aiden came up to me and said "hey you forgot to do this." When I looked down to see what he was talking about, I was shocked to see he was holding my bible. He knows that mommy gets up, gets breakfast and read her bible. He saw that I had not done my nomral routine this morning. It was a nice reminder that I needed to change my attitude and that my kids watch what I do. Makes me a little bit more aware of my actions. So I guess I won't be bitter when my kids don't sleep in and focus more on the fact that they are a gift from God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5938472623826666807?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5938472623826666807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-forgot-to-do-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5938472623826666807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5938472623826666807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/you-forgot-to-do-this.html' title='You forgot to do this!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8007646214482514051</id><published>2010-05-14T08:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T09:06:37.676-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not a dress!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S-1xMPHLZAI/AAAAAAAAASo/2dWwrinvxJM/s1600/Texas+2010+093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471153577354028034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S-1xMPHLZAI/AAAAAAAAASo/2dWwrinvxJM/s320/Texas+2010+093.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471153569410757922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S-1xLxhWtSI/AAAAAAAAASg/QvZuusH-7pk/s320/Texas+2010+094.JPG" /&gt; Erin: Oh mom can I wear this today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: Sure baby, it's warm enough today let's find the shorts that go with it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: I don't need shorts it's a dress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; Me: No, Erin it's not a dress it's just a long shirt you need to wear something underneath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: but mom, it looks like a dress&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: Yes, it may look like a dress but it is not a dress you have to wear something underneath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: OK&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After this short little conversation we go into the bathroom to brush teeth and do hair. As I'm trying to do her hair she is turning her head, standing on her tip toes, moving around as much as she can so that it is extremely difficult to get a pony tail in. I get it in and she looks cute as can be.(You can see for yourself from the picture) Now picture this...after the hair is done I'm trying to help her brush her teeth. I need her to actually look at me in order to see the teeth I'm brushing. As I'm doing this she is trying to gaze at herself in the mirror. I keep turning her head to look at me and her eyes are just about rolled back into her head trying to look in the mirror. It was funny after the fact but during I was getting frustrated. It is clear that she has no self image issues. She then proceeds to ask me if we can take her picture so I said "Of course" because I need proof of this day to tell her when she's a teenager.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;A little later in the day:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: Erin you need to quit pulling your shirt down. It has to cover your chest. It's a shirt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: It looks like a dress&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: It's not a dress it's a shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: but watch when I spin....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: I see that it flares out like dresses do but it's still a shirt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: and mom it covers my bottom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: It may cover some of your bottom but let me tell you, you will never wear a dress that is that short!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: alright&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Later that night I am in the shower and she comes in to go potty:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Erin: Mom this really does look like a dress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Me: IT'S NOT A DRESS!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8007646214482514051?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8007646214482514051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-not-dress.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8007646214482514051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8007646214482514051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/its-not-dress.html' title='It&apos;s not a dress!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S-1xMPHLZAI/AAAAAAAAASo/2dWwrinvxJM/s72-c/Texas+2010+093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6062910790293219345</id><published>2010-05-04T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T18:23:45.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Were real hone....</title><content type='html'>So I had this conversation with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; the other day :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;: hey momma, where's my blue mater thing? (full of the cutest little lisps)&lt;br /&gt;Me: Huh? I'm not sure what you're talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;: my blue mater sing (thing) that you roll on in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;da&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;baftub&lt;/span&gt; on were &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;bellys&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Well &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; I'm still not sure what you mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;: Did we leave it at were real hone? (our real home)&lt;br /&gt;To this I finally realized what he was talking about. It was some Avon stuff that the neighbor had gotten for the kids and it's colored soap that the kids could roll on themselves in the bath tub and yes we did leave it at Mimi and Papa's house which is what &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; was referring to as "were real hone" While I don't want to offend any of our Hereford friends because we love Texas and love this town. It just melted my heart a little to hear &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; call Mimi and Papas our real home. He's such a precious boy. I think Mimi's heart melted a little bit too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6062910790293219345?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6062910790293219345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/were-real-hone.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6062910790293219345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6062910790293219345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/05/were-real-hone.html' title='Were real hone....'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-2984088025014934241</id><published>2010-04-22T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T07:46:05.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Conversations with a 4 and 3 year old</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11127610&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=11127610&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/11127610"&gt;Untitled&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/user3645005"&gt;Angela Skelton&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-2984088025014934241?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/2984088025014934241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/04/sweet-conversations-with-4-and-3-year.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2984088025014934241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2984088025014934241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/04/sweet-conversations-with-4-and-3-year.html' title='Sweet Conversations with a 4 and 3 year old'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6504653931529127629</id><published>2010-04-19T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T17:18:55.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help Me! Do you see what I mean T-R-O-U-B-L-E!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyNtsfaRI/AAAAAAAAASY/oXTpia9_C8A/s1600/0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462006765511993618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyNtsfaRI/AAAAAAAAASY/oXTpia9_C8A/s320/0024.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMyH4s0I/AAAAAAAAASQ/YaQGCSwd_xo/s1600/0026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462006749520769858" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMyH4s0I/AAAAAAAAASQ/YaQGCSwd_xo/s320/0026.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMvHA-mI/AAAAAAAAASI/EBOuIw5zlzw/s1600/0023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462006748711811682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMvHA-mI/AAAAAAAAASI/EBOuIw5zlzw/s320/0023.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMav_ZJI/AAAAAAAAASA/CaQA_Pl4AgY/s1600/0025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462006743246529682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMav_ZJI/AAAAAAAAASA/CaQA_Pl4AgY/s320/0025.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMBnnxtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/ykRVbkWBk9g/s1600/0022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462006736500541138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyMBnnxtI/AAAAAAAAAR4/ykRVbkWBk9g/s320/0022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6504653931529127629?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6504653931529127629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/04/help-me-do-you-see-what-i-mean-t-rr-o-u.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6504653931529127629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6504653931529127629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/04/help-me-do-you-see-what-i-mean-t-rr-o-u.html' title='Help Me! Do you see what I mean T-R-O-U-B-L-E!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zyNtsfaRI/AAAAAAAAASY/oXTpia9_C8A/s72-c/0024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4435351266225596513</id><published>2010-04-19T17:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-19T17:10:33.296-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you see the trouble I have coming?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw4ShSMlI/AAAAAAAAARw/bcf-18yj_7I/s1600/0021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462005297928352338" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw4ShSMlI/AAAAAAAAARw/bcf-18yj_7I/s320/0021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw4JDfSbI/AAAAAAAAARo/PuGx554JI_U/s1600/0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462005295387462066" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw4JDfSbI/AAAAAAAAARo/PuGx554JI_U/s320/0016.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw3kRx0EI/AAAAAAAAARg/0AuzWLFrE7Y/s1600/0020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462005285515284546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw3kRx0EI/AAAAAAAAARg/0AuzWLFrE7Y/s320/0020.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw3eAR96I/AAAAAAAAARY/SzsFxlNaCbs/s1600/0017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462005283831281570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw3eAR96I/AAAAAAAAARY/SzsFxlNaCbs/s320/0017.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw3N4Vb5I/AAAAAAAAARQ/NoAIuNbH6og/s1600/0019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462005279502987154" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw3N4Vb5I/AAAAAAAAARQ/NoAIuNbH6og/s320/0019.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4435351266225596513?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4435351266225596513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/04/do-you-see-trouble-i-have-coming.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4435351266225596513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4435351266225596513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/04/do-you-see-trouble-i-have-coming.html' title='Do you see the trouble I have coming?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S8zw4ShSMlI/AAAAAAAAARw/bcf-18yj_7I/s72-c/0021.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-166197592559681583</id><published>2010-03-11T10:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T10:40:38.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Idea</title><content type='html'>This is what I heard today. I wish I had the ability to record their voices all day long. The things that come out of their mouths are amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin and Aiden were playing together a few minutes ago. They are playing "fix it" which really means they are just playing with Aidens play tools to fix things around the house. Erin really likes to head up this game and let Aiden know what he is too fix. As a matter of fact Erin likes be in charge of most of the games they play together. Usually the scenario is this:&lt;br /&gt;Erin: "OK Aiden how about I'll be the princess and you be _________ "(Aiden's character varies depending on what they are playing but Erin will forever be the princess in every circumstance)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was pretty much the same only I heard this small conversation. Aiden is getting braver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "ERIN ERIN ERIN I've got my great idea!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin: " Grrrr...... ok Aiden WHAT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really didn't hear the rest of the conversation I was laughing too much at the growling sound that came out of Erin. She really does not like anyone else to have a "great idea". Oh I love these kids!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-166197592559681583?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/166197592559681583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/great-idea.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/166197592559681583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/166197592559681583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/great-idea.html' title='Great Idea'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6942166607998975478</id><published>2010-03-07T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T08:26:26.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do you see this girl?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5R-_uAzdvI/AAAAAAAAARI/xqjiQVeSxiE/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446117482546034418" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5R-_uAzdvI/AAAAAAAAARI/xqjiQVeSxiE/s320/Texas+%2710+206.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This child is precious! She has a special gift. It's the gift of melting your heart in once second and then send flames and smoke from your eyes and ears the next. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;For example, this girl can recall that I was in a small car accident, even though she wasn't even in the car. She brings this up anytime we are in the car just to remind me what I had done. She can recall the fact that one time while trying to turn a movie on I had not muted it and that static noise scared her and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;. This she brings up at the most random times just so I know that I had made a mistake. Then there is this, which sends me over the edge, the child puts her shoes on every day and still can't remember which one goes on the right foot. Now I realize that yes she is only 4, but come on, she can recall all of my mistakes that happened weeks, days, months ago but the one thing she does every day she can not memorize? She is conspiring against me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then there are moments when she comes in with her lips puckered to give me a kiss. She tells me "mom when ever you get sick again....I will always take care of you." or when she will randomly lean over and kiss my hand and tell me she loves me, or at church when she was so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;distraught&lt;/span&gt; because someone had given her a gift during &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt; church and she didn't have anything to give back. She has a sweet spirit and a smile that is contagious. LOVE HER!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6942166607998975478?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6942166607998975478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/do-you-see-this-girl.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6942166607998975478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6942166607998975478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/do-you-see-this-girl.html' title='Do you see this girl?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5R-_uAzdvI/AAAAAAAAARI/xqjiQVeSxiE/s72-c/Texas+%2710+206.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-7461271900413201829</id><published>2010-03-06T08:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T08:25:18.597-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Everything is bigger in Texas even the snow flakes. This is our first snow and we got about 8inches this snow. There were lots of snow drifts as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKQpEM0I/AAAAAAAAARA/PZdMtpNgjvg/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445555813198607170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKQpEM0I/AAAAAAAAARA/PZdMtpNgjvg/s320/Texas+%2710+094.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is out our back door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKcOn4rI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/qYkfCVJZh1I/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445555816308925106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKcOn4rI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/qYkfCVJZh1I/s320/Texas+%2710+095.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This snow actually started with ice first, so there was a layer of ice under all this snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKP8rVwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/oLG1e3srN9k/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+096.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445555813012428546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKP8rVwI/AAAAAAAAAQw/oLG1e3srN9k/s320/Texas+%2710+096.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The tree covered in ice our our back door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAJ5v3jWI/AAAAAAAAAQo/TTbIReZshWM/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445555807053122914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAJ5v3jWI/AAAAAAAAAQo/TTbIReZshWM/s320/Texas+%2710+097.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; That's the gate to go to the front of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAJu-eWBI/AAAAAAAAAQg/XVJlYaKsPaQ/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445555804161595410" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAJu-eWBI/AAAAAAAAAQg/XVJlYaKsPaQ/s320/Texas+%2710+098.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what we saw when we opened our back door. The door also had a layer of ice on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_NFCMRKI/AAAAAAAAAQY/a-9S8qFSePY/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445554762110747810" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_NFCMRKI/AAAAAAAAAQY/a-9S8qFSePY/s320/Texas+%2710+100.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Out our front door, it came all the way to the door. We have a tiny porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_M5CX6JI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ZOfdDUMcjK4/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445554758890285202" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_M5CX6JI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/ZOfdDUMcjK4/s320/Texas+%2710+102.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is our drive way and down the street a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_MmiGEpI/AAAAAAAAAQI/lBh766woCXs/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445554753923060370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_MmiGEpI/AAAAAAAAAQI/lBh766woCXs/s320/Texas+%2710+103.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree out front, actually right next to our bedroom window and the night before this was banging on our window all night from the wind. Needless to say I did not sleep that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_MeKRQuI/AAAAAAAAAQA/V-T6f1opRbs/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+106.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445554751675646690" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_MeKRQuI/AAAAAAAAAQA/V-T6f1opRbs/s320/Texas+%2710+106.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is taken from my frong porch looking across the street. Can you find the street? Neither could we.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_MPycAZI/AAAAAAAAAP4/PfPaeTFPkUI/s1600-h/Texas+%2710+107.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445554747817591186" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5J_MPycAZI/AAAAAAAAAP4/PfPaeTFPkUI/s320/Texas+%2710+107.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More snow on our front porch. There is actually a step down there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-7461271900413201829?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/7461271900413201829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/texas-snow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7461271900413201829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7461271900413201829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/texas-snow.html' title='Texas Snow'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S5KAKQpEM0I/AAAAAAAAARA/PZdMtpNgjvg/s72-c/Texas+%2710+094.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6474193084867425807</id><published>2010-03-06T07:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T08:08:16.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Texas Part 2</title><content type='html'>I must first apologize to my very best friend Erica who asked me to update and I told her I would do it about two days ago. As you can see it is now Saturday and I am just now getting to my update. So I'm sorry friend, I will do better I promise. You must hold me accountable to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have a little side note about my best friend Erica, (and yes I must refer to her as my best friend because that is the ONLY way to refer to her) she and I have been on quite a journey in our separate lives and through it all we have always stayed friends. It is a wonderful friendship and I have to admit she is better at it than I am. I love her because she loves me through that. (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hmm&lt;/span&gt;....I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;babbling&lt;/span&gt;) Anyway I just find it ironic how much we have similar in our lives. Our husbands both have jobs that have taken us to different places. Hers a little more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;adventurous&lt;/span&gt; but we were both away from home and that is far enough. We both have two kids. (she had hers two at a time, much braver than I)But what really is amazing to me is that even though we rarely talk about this, we have both made very similar choices in our devotions, bible studies even books that we are reading. I had chosen to follow the read the bible in a year plan, and through her blog found that she did too. We have both done Beth Moore bible studies and both just recently bought her newest book.(I'm sure she is ahead of me in reading though, I haven't actually started) God is so amazing because he has sent us on very similar paths knowing that we could use our experiences to help each other through. Even though we don't talk every day or every month I know that she prays for me and I for her. Who knew that at six years old we had found a life time friendship. I love her! So thanks God for my BEST friend Erica.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Alrighty&lt;/span&gt;! Part 2&lt;br /&gt;We had gotten to the house and brought all the boxes in. The day we moved in I started to feel anxious about what we were doing. I didn't know if I could do this I was starting to realize that I only had a few more days left with my parents and then we would be on our own again.&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, we woke up and were relaxing and doing a little unpacking. The kids were exploring their toys that had been packed away for more than a year. It was like Christmas all over again. (which has now ended by the way, the newness has worn off) Suddenly my mom comes running out of the bathroom yelling "the toilets over flowing" so we run in the bathroom to find water all over the floor. My dad had to go to the store to get a plunger because who knew we'd need one after one day here. Now our little town (God Bless it) has limited stores, we have a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt; and an Ace hardware. So dad goes to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt; gets one and it pretty much falls apart after one plunge. (thanks &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt;) So he goes to the hardware store only to find they don't have any. Now this is where God comes into the picture (I mean I realize he's been here the whole time but this is where we see him) the man running the store says wait a minute take mine. He gives us the one that was in their bathroom. (Now that i think this through it really is kind of gross to me but at that point we would have taken anything) DO YOU HEAR ME!! The man gave us his for FREE!!! Where are we?! After a few tries though we find that it is not actually a problem that can be fixed with a plunger. We needed a plumber. So we called our landlord (the best landlord ever!! I love her for many reasons to be told later) She got a plumber out here so fast and he was awesome. It took &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;quite&lt;/span&gt; a long time because there were some pipe issues causing other things like sinks and the tub not draining as well.&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time the funny part is that we have one bathroom and my poor mother and I are dying because we have to go to the bathroom and take showers. It really became an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;emergency&lt;/span&gt; when Erin said she had to go because this child waits until the very last second before she wets her pants to go to the bathroom. So I threw some clothes on and we drove to the church, it took us less than a minute to get there. It is very close! So by the time we get back my mom now has to go and the plumber is still here. So she drives to a gas station down the street and apparently made a friend. She came back and said some guy had talked her ear off and she didn't think she was going to get out of there. Everyone is so friendly here, it's like a different world. Definitely different than living in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Michigan&lt;/span&gt; where people rarely look you in the eye when speaking to you, or staring you down because you're taking to long. ( Sorry &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Michigan&lt;/span&gt; friends, I love you guys just not the state itself. ) After about two hours he finally got it fixed and gave us the good news that "it will probably happen again" he gave us his card with his home and cell number and find that he only lives two streets away from us. Although even if he lived across town it would only be three minutes instead of one.  Update: it's been almost two months and everything is still running smoothly.&lt;br /&gt;We are loving Texas more and more every day. The people are wonderful! We have a full freezer and I think we only bought two things that are in it. The rest is meat that was given to us. We have &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; financial gifts that we fell undeserving of. God has blessed us over and over to let us know that this is where he would have us. We had a revival the second week we were here and it was amazing. God was there and he spoke to Eric and I both about becoming Godly leaders and parents. It is not without it's battles there are days when I can feel &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;satan&lt;/span&gt; pulling at me making me feel unworthy in so many ways. There are days when I miss home terribly. What gets me through is that I can walk through every room in my house and be reminded of how much we are loved. Let me just give you the list:&lt;br /&gt;Kitchen: We had a brand new refrigerator waiting for us, that is ours to keep even when we      move. Our pastors wife stood in the kitchen with me and helped me unpack all of my dishes.&lt;br /&gt;Living Room: Our furniture was given to us by my aunt. It looks brand new, almost as if it had never been sat on.&lt;br /&gt;There are too many pieces to name that are from my parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aidens&lt;/span&gt; room: His bed is from Mimi and Papa. Our pastors son helped my dad put it together the day we moved in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Erins&lt;/span&gt; room: Again help putting the bed together (I'm sorry I don't remember who did that)&lt;br /&gt;Our bedroom: Realizing we had forgotten the bed rails that hold our mattress up, a man in our church went home built us a new set that are stronger than the ones that came with the bed. Another guy at our church helping Eric set our room up with all that heavy furniture.&lt;br /&gt;Bathroom: well you know that story.&lt;br /&gt;It has been an amazing journey and we know that God is here with us. Eric is doing an awesome job with the teens. They love him, he has big crowds on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wednesday&lt;/span&gt; nights and his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt; school attendance has grown a little bigger every week. He loves his job and he has changed in so many ways. I know that we have had so many people praying for us. I am thankful for all that we have gone through so that we could be here now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6474193084867425807?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6474193084867425807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/texas-part-2.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6474193084867425807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6474193084867425807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/03/texas-part-2.html' title='Texas Part 2'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-2740896331660612469</id><published>2010-02-15T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T08:17:48.031-08:00</updated><title type='text'>conversations with Aiden</title><content type='html'>I have had a couple of interesting conversations with Aiden this morning. So it thought before I continue my journey to Texas saga I would share this with you.&lt;br /&gt;Eric was making us breakfast this morning and Aiden came in and wanted to know what he was making. This is how the conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: What's that smell momma?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Daddy's making sausage, maple flavored sausage.&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: I don't like sawjij (using j's was the closest way I could show you how he said it)&lt;br /&gt;Me: There isn't much you do like these days. You are like your uncle matthew!&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: Daddy's not uncle matthew.&lt;br /&gt;Me: I know daddy's not uncle matthew I said you are LIKE uncle matthew.&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: No I not uncle matthew&lt;br /&gt;Me: No, Aiden I'm saying that you do things like Uncle matthew&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: but I Aiden&lt;br /&gt;Me: Never mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later I was sitting at the table waiting for breakfast to be served. When Aiden came to me and wanted me to hold him. So as he was talking to me his voice is going in and out. He has got another terrible cold and he's got this high pitch squeaky voice. So I said "Aiden I think you're losing your voice" and his response was "these pants aren't losing" He thought I was telling him he was losing his pants. I think he's so used to me telling him "hey you're losing your pants" he just assumed that's what I was talking about. I guess I should be grateful that he actually answered instead of saying "huh momma....wud you say?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post more on our Texas story later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-2740896331660612469?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/2740896331660612469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/02/conversations-with-aiden.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2740896331660612469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2740896331660612469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/02/conversations-with-aiden.html' title='conversations with Aiden'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8365803695403439013</id><published>2010-02-14T08:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T09:23:22.350-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stars at Night are Big and Bright....</title><content type='html'>Sorry for the lack of blogging lately it's been a crazy month. We are now moved to Texas! We've been here for about three weeks now. It has been an adventure and I'm sure it's just the beginning, but good things are happening in Hereford and in the Skelton family. God has blessed us more than we deserve. I don't have any pictures put on my computer yet but soon I'll show pictures of our home.&lt;br /&gt;I'll start by telling you our journey from home. Eric had to be here in Texas for a youth event and we were not able to move before then. So he had to drive down by himself and then flew back home just in time to load the truck and head back to Texas.&lt;br /&gt;I stayed behind with the kids to finish packing the rest of our things at the house.(Some how Eric manages to get out of packing) Most of our stuff was already packed and stored because we moved in with my parents after we left Michigan and didn't have room for most of it. That made moving a lot easier this time. Eric left on a Tuesday and I took that day and Wednesday to do some packing. My wonderful sister-in-law took the kids one day so that I could get things done a lot quicker. It was a very busy week and in the middle of all the packing we wanted the cousins to have time to spend together. We managed to get a little cousin time in every day and Erin and Aiden loved it. So did I, it gave me a chance to spend time with my sister-in-law as well. It made me sad to think that we've lived that close for over a year and it never dawned on me how we could have been doing that stuff all along. Life gets so busy sometimes we forget what's important. By Friday morning I was sick....not a little sick I was sick very sick. I couldn't finish packing and could barely take care of my kids. It was at that moment that Satan saw his in and began to work into my fears. There was so much I wanted to do still and I had to rest. My parents kind of took over and helped me care for Erin and Aiden. I started to get angry that Eric wasn't there and had to settle down and realize that this is all a part of the plan. That God was in control and no matter what we would still get to Texas. Going back and looking on this I think being sick may have been a blessing for me because I didn't have to pack the truck all I had to do was point to boxes and say "this one goes" it was great! My dad and brother with a little help loaded the truck for us. By the time Eric got home we were pretty much finished ahead of schedule and were able to get on the road a lot earlier than we thought. God is good!&lt;br /&gt;We left on a Tuesday and drove all the way to Oklahoma and it was just in time. The kids were doing so well until about the last 20 minutes. I was afraid i was going to lose it but then we came to our hotel and all was good again. The kids went swimming and loved it! Our dog who is usually a nervous wreck traveled nicely. It was a good trip. The next morning we took our time had a nice breakfast and got back on the road.&lt;br /&gt;Side Note: On this day my mother "accidentally" took an ambien. This made for pretty interesting conversation between her and my dad. When this happens we try to keep the kids away for fear she will scare them. Due to her mishap we had to stop just about every hour to use the bathroom, now while normally I welcome the chance to get out of the car I was still sick and wanted to rest. It was a little frustrating but we had some good laughs over this.&lt;br /&gt;We pulled in to our new home to find the pastor waiting for us and shortly after people from the church came to help us unload the truck. When we got here our goal was to at least get the beds set up so we could sleep. By the end of the day the truck was completely empty we had unpacked most of my kitchen stuff, the beds were all set up, TV was set up, bookshelves, and kitchen table all put together. It was amazing and we are grateful to everyone who helped us unload.&lt;br /&gt;I also forgot to mention that before we even got here Eric had received many gift cards and lots of food to fill our home. We were feeling humbled and blessed. God is good!&lt;br /&gt;We are still getting settled in our home and have some things yet to unpack but it feels like home and we are loving the church and the people in it. They have welcomed us and loved us and we don't want to be anywhere else.&lt;br /&gt;I'll have to post in parts because it's been a while and I have lots of stories to tell. For now just know we are here, safe and loving Texas more and more every day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8365803695403439013?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8365803695403439013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/02/stars-at-night-are-big-and-bright.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8365803695403439013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8365803695403439013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/02/stars-at-night-are-big-and-bright.html' title='The Stars at Night are Big and Bright....'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8136659478741402965</id><published>2010-01-08T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T12:35:08.048-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm going to lose my mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S0eVT1Vwr4I/AAAAAAAAAPw/psVNiRW_gu0/s1600-h/aug-sept.+09+111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424468444159455106" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S0eVT1Vwr4I/AAAAAAAAAPw/psVNiRW_gu0/s320/aug-sept.+09+111.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Look at this boy! So proud holding his apple he found. Full of joy and laughter. You would never know by looking at this picture that this boy is about to drive his momma crazy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There have been moments when I have wondered about Aiden's ears and if he might have some hearing issues. When we went to the doctor for his 2 and a half year check up the doctor confirmed that there is absolutely nothing wrong with his hearing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;That being said if I hear him say "huh... whud you say momma?" one more time I think I might scream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8136659478741402965?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8136659478741402965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-going-to-lose-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8136659478741402965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8136659478741402965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-going-to-lose-my-mind.html' title='I&apos;m going to lose my mind'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/S0eVT1Vwr4I/AAAAAAAAAPw/psVNiRW_gu0/s72-c/aug-sept.+09+111.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-3628825982378027298</id><published>2010-01-07T11:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T12:23:24.034-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts Chapter 2</title><content type='html'>We are in the midst of moving to Texas right now. Most of you know the story and once I get all settled in there I will post a little story of how we ended up in Texas. For now I will just tell you WE ARE MOVING TO TEXAS!! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WHOO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;HOO&lt;/span&gt;!! I actually am pretty excited and looking forward to what 2010 will bring for my family. For now I thought I would share a little bit of what is going on in my mind today. So here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I was reading my bible, and I've been following the little chart in the back of my bible for daily reading. Today was Genesis 24 and 25. I was struck by many funny thoughts as I was reading. For instance chapter 24 is about how Isaac got his wife Rebekah. I thought wouldn't it be nice if that's how we all found our spouses. Now I realize I am already married (happily in case you were wondering) but I'm thinking about my children. I would really like to send a messenger to a place of my choosing and fetch &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; a wife or Erin a husband. God is there any chance you might let that happen in my case? Now I do realize that this was all in God's plan and that it doesn't matter how it happened Isaac and Rebekah were meant to be married. This also made me start to think that even though my children are young that I should start thinking about praying for their future spouses. I am a definite believer in the power of prayer. I think that God wants me to pray that for my children. So I have come to a new resolution for the new year, I will pray daily for my &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt; future spouses. Whoa! That is really hard to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I am no &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;philosophical&lt;/span&gt; person (as a matter of fact that was really hard for me to spell) so I'm not sure that's what most people get out of reading that scripture but for me it is. There are many times when I read scripture and feel a little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;inadequate&lt;/span&gt; as far as finding meaning in it. I'm a simple person and at times don't feel as smart or intelligent as those around me. (Don't get me wrong I'm not looking for a pity party or feel sorry for me because I don't feel smart I'm just expressing how I feel at times) I like to think that I am more common sense smart than book smart and I'm &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; with that. (please don't tell me if you disagree just let me live in my fantasy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next thought as I continued to read chapter 24 was that what kind of lunatic parents did Rebekah have that they just let her walk out of the house with all her things to go and marry some complete stranger! I am amazed at the kind of faith and trust her people had in God. To know by simple signs that this was from God. I mean come on....I'm a little more like &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Gideon&lt;/span&gt; (that's the right person right?) I need him to make the ground wet and the wool dry, then I need him to do the opposite, then I need a slap in the face, a little writing on the wall, a few lightening strikes on a cloudless day....I could go on. Even if God did all those things for me I would probably still be a little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;leery&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After reading this though I was struck with the thought that this is sort of what I'm going through now. My family is being called away. We are being called to Texas, this will be the furthest we've ever been from home. I am scared and have moments of unwillingness. I am going to a place I don't know. I worry about Erin especially because she understands that we are leaving things she knows, her school, her friends at church, her cousin Maddie, her Mimi, Papa and Grammy. I worry about &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; too, but he's such a mommas boy that as long as I'm there I think he'll be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;. We will miss our family and I'm sad that my kids and my niece and nephews will not get to grow up together but I do know that this was God's will and we will go where he calls us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a less serious note some other thoughts I've had today are:&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder if I could get someone to come and pack for me without it costing me extra"&lt;br /&gt;"I have a lot of people I would like to see and not enough time to do it in"&lt;br /&gt;"I wonder if the kids would notice if I just packed one container of toys and left the rest of them....of course they would notice" followed by...&lt;br /&gt;"I need more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Rubbermaid&lt;/span&gt; containers."&lt;br /&gt;After packing one container I was tired and took a break and have not gone back to it. I think I work better under pressure, I'll just wait to pack until it's almost time to pack the truck.&lt;br /&gt;Although everyone knows I'm a huge worrier and the longer I wait the more worried I'll get so it really isn't a good idea. Of course I will find something else to worry about in the mean time so I'm not sure it matters. I've really got to work on this leaning on God thing. It's a huge struggle for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Pray for me friends as we begin this new adventure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-3628825982378027298?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/3628825982378027298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-thoughts-chapter-2.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3628825982378027298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3628825982378027298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-thoughts-chapter-2.html' title='Random Thoughts Chapter 2'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-166109695873651972</id><published>2009-12-18T08:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T08:20:55.061-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like...</title><content type='html'>The other day I picked Erin up from school. This was one of those days that Eric was off and I didn't have to take Aiden, so I have no witnesses to this conversation. (Of course Aiden would not have been a good witness anyway so I guess it doesn't matter) I can not even tell you what the conversation was about I was so stunned at how many times my four year old used the word "like" to tell me a story that I have no memory of what it was about. I am a little worried because if she at 4 is already using this word more than necessary what will she be like as a teenager. LORD HELP ME!!! I need prayer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-166109695873651972?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/166109695873651972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/12/like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/166109695873651972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/166109695873651972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/12/like.html' title='Like...'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4698741031066603457</id><published>2009-12-08T11:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T12:01:11.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Precious Moment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sx6rhCEashI/AAAAAAAAAPo/yEQRY-dVyrg/s1600-h/IMG_1471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412952386125345298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sx6rhCEashI/AAAAAAAAAPo/yEQRY-dVyrg/s320/IMG_1471.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have to share some sweet moments with this precious girl of mine. I chose this picture because it shows her free wheelin', not a care in the world, no fear, happy personality. This girl with the exception of a few moments has been smiling and loving life from the moment she entered the world. She loves to be around people and knows no stranger. I could go on forever but I just wanted you to see her happy little face while I explain this little story. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Some of you know we went on another interview at a church a few weeks ago. This was actually Erin's birthday weekend and even though we did not get that job we really did enjoy our time there. It was relaxing and very comfortable meeting all of the people at this church. During one of our meetings, a lunch meeting with the pastor and his wife Erin made her way right between he and his wife. It really was precious she just wants to love on everyone and for them to do the same. So as we waited for our food we decided to pray ahead of time. She wanted to pray for our meal. She did an outstanding job as she normally does and we were all smiles....until....the pastor says how sweet it is to hear children pray. Then I had to open my mouth and say "it's fun to talk to Jesus isn't it Erin?" Oh dear what came out of her mouth next...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"Mom, who's Jesus?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Jaws dropped, I was speechless and i think Eric was as well. After a few seconds we all just laughed and moved on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Moving on to just a couple of weeks ago. My great uncle passed away just before thanksgiving and his funeral was the weekend after. Since I am still living with my parents the kids and I were able to tag along and attend the funeral. Eric had to stay behind and work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This really was a sweet time for many reasons. One being this is a side of the family we don't see often but are still very close, so when we do get to see each other it is a time of remembering and talking as though we had not missed a day. This was a nice time for my kids especially for Erin because she is getting older and his able to understand and remember things a lot better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;On Friday we went to the funeral home for the visitation and I walked up to the casket with both kids, and as I was approaching I began to think what will I say if she asks questions. It had dawned on me to late that maybe I should have talked about this with her before we went up there, but we were there and I had to think of something quick. Luckily Aiden was with his Aunt Leah and I was able to focus on talking with Erin. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She did not disappoint as soon as we got up there she asked "Who is that mom?" So I explained this is "Mimi's uncle, my great uncle, and your great great uncle" To which she nodded with complete understanding (he he..not really) I just kept going. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"He died and is going to be with Jesus" Erin of course came through with her "why" question over and over. In a nutshell this is what I explained to her:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He got very sick, very quickly and wasn't getting better, so God thought it would be better if he came to live with him for now. Now he is up in heaven and is not sick anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is where it gets me every time I think of this story. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and said "But mom, I want to live with Jesus!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;OH! With tears in my eyes I said I know you do, and you will some day, but for now Jesus lives with you in your heart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She is a precious little girl and I'm pretty confident she knows who Jesus is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4698741031066603457?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4698741031066603457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/12/precious-moment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4698741031066603457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4698741031066603457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/12/precious-moment.html' title='A Precious Moment'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sx6rhCEashI/AAAAAAAAAPo/yEQRY-dVyrg/s72-c/IMG_1471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5189226855932453148</id><published>2009-11-17T13:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T13:58:38.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Girl is 4!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;These are a bunch of random &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;pictures&lt;/span&gt; from Erin's birthday party. She turned for last Sunday but we were out of town and weren't able to celebrate until this &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt;. It was lots of fun and I love this girl &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;soooooooooo&lt;/span&gt; much. I keep telling her she needs to stop growing and she tells me &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"but God wants me to grow" and well.....I can't argue with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaJYS_baI/AAAAAAAAAPg/Mpq-5zhI6Cw/s1600/IMG_1543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405192726217977250" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaJYS_baI/AAAAAAAAAPg/Mpq-5zhI6Cw/s320/IMG_1543.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is my boy (like you didn't know already) This day was so busy that by the end of the night I had realized I didn't get to see or snuggle my boy at all that day. I missed him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaIzJHRZI/AAAAAAAAAPY/SmFH5Gd4yhg/s1600/IMG_1541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405192716244436370" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaIzJHRZI/AAAAAAAAAPY/SmFH5Gd4yhg/s320/IMG_1541.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is a beautiful dress that Eric's mom made for Erin Marie to play dress up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaIWeCNsI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/CsXbQxpQZM8/s1600/IMG_1540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405192708547557058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaIWeCNsI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/CsXbQxpQZM8/s320/IMG_1540.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; For some reason our camera was taking horrible pictures this day, but this dress is beautiful and full of glitter. We all agree this is better than any store bought dress up outfit. Erin asked me this morning if she could wear it to school today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaIOA0iwI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Hew_O7Mf3_E/s1600/IMG_1524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405192706277542658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaIOA0iwI/AAAAAAAAAPI/Hew_O7Mf3_E/s320/IMG_1524.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is part of the crazy present opening process&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaH-TGV6I/AAAAAAAAAPA/P_XIKIAzhww/s1600/IMG_1518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405192702059239330" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaH-TGV6I/AAAAAAAAAPA/P_XIKIAzhww/s320/IMG_1518.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZFMUcZDI/AAAAAAAAAO4/0qc0zXWy9ns/s1600/IMG_1501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405191554771739698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZFMUcZDI/AAAAAAAAAO4/0qc0zXWy9ns/s320/IMG_1501.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We like to do art projects, so I picked up these cheap ceramic pony's for the girls to paint.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZE1qM4TI/AAAAAAAAAOw/eKwq-2qNw6I/s1600/IMG_1502.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405191548688982322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZE1qM4TI/AAAAAAAAAOw/eKwq-2qNw6I/s320/IMG_1502.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They had a good time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZEoUZM_I/AAAAAAAAAOo/Csov2W7kxrY/s1600/IMG_1511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405191545107854322" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZEoUZM_I/AAAAAAAAAOo/Csov2W7kxrY/s320/IMG_1511.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cake Time!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The most expensive cake I have ever paid for. EVER!! I will never do that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZEXmqVZI/AAAAAAAAAOg/yo69rrtqmJk/s1600/IMG_1497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405191540621071762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZEXmqVZI/AAAAAAAAAOg/yo69rrtqmJk/s320/IMG_1497.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was actually before the party, little miss diva was giving me some poses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZD352BCI/AAAAAAAAAOY/85LZiM4Sufc/s1600/IMG_1495.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405191532111594530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMZD352BCI/AAAAAAAAAOY/85LZiM4Sufc/s320/IMG_1495.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yet another pose, she is a precious girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5189226855932453148?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5189226855932453148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-girl-is-4.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5189226855932453148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5189226855932453148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-girl-is-4.html' title='My Girl is 4!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SwMaJYS_baI/AAAAAAAAAPg/Mpq-5zhI6Cw/s72-c/IMG_1543.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4354307673002729247</id><published>2009-11-06T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T13:54:09.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Monkeys</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-544c546cb5ec365f" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D544c546cb5ec365f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159308%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D66B5B3CA713797C10F25776F260E5469F55A6929.48CA25827F6D9BA4E5213F3DC2CE3A376BBD29E5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D544c546cb5ec365f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dhlc8kCRL1lAJ4I3eTW3Qr11Mvy8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D544c546cb5ec365f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159308%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D66B5B3CA713797C10F25776F260E5469F55A6929.48CA25827F6D9BA4E5213F3DC2CE3A376BBD29E5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D544c546cb5ec365f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dhlc8kCRL1lAJ4I3eTW3Qr11Mvy8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;So the kids and I have had a little too much togetherness lately. They were sick for about two weeks and Erin still has a cough. Which meant that we spent a lot lot lot of time at home inside together! I can't tell who was the crabbiest the kids or me. It was probably a tie. Anyway needless to say I have dealt with bad attitude, sever temper tantrums and the most unusual disagreements between a 2 and 3 year old. For a while I thought I might lose my mind. This however, makes it all worth it. This is why I stay home with my babies.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4354307673002729247?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4354307673002729247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-monkeys.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4354307673002729247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4354307673002729247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-monkeys.html' title='Little Monkeys'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8694082951125399982</id><published>2009-10-15T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T09:21:09.489-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh My Gracious!! I love this Boy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/StdJKGm2HtI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/g43bhWd06Aw/s1600-h/oct.+09+053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392859516720520914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/StdJKGm2HtI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/g43bhWd06Aw/s320/oct.+09+053.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/StdJJloznGI/AAAAAAAAAOI/aj3RSkmUuRw/s1600-h/oct.+09+145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392859507870375010" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/StdJJloznGI/AAAAAAAAAOI/aj3RSkmUuRw/s320/oct.+09+145.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my boy! &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; Nathaniel can melt my heart at times and other times cause me to completely lose my patience. This however is one of those times he melts my heart. The top picture we were at our church fall festival and were walking to the bouncy house. He stopped in front of me grabbed my legs and said in the sweetest little voice:&lt;br /&gt;"I love you momma!"&lt;br /&gt;Oh my word I just wanted to squeeze him and never let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; has also started talking so much that he has developed a slight stutter. He just gets to talking to fast and can't get his words out. Yesterday he suddenly discovered that he has a problem and would get hung up on the word "you"&lt;br /&gt;This won't be the same as actually hearing him say this but here is an idea of what it sounds like.&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yu&lt;/span&gt;....&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ohhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;( in a growling voice) I bedder slow down" (giggle giggle)&lt;br /&gt;It was so cute I couldn't help but laugh and smile at him. He's so smart it didn't take him long to realize that when we tell him to slow down we mean slow down his speech so he can get his words out.&lt;br /&gt;I LOVE HIM!! Thank you God for this precious little boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8694082951125399982?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8694082951125399982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-my-gracious-i-love-this-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8694082951125399982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8694082951125399982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/10/oh-my-gracious-i-love-this-boy.html' title='Oh My Gracious!! I love this Boy!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/StdJKGm2HtI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/g43bhWd06Aw/s72-c/oct.+09+053.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6142363087749190679</id><published>2009-09-24T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T15:38:10.918-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle Matthew.....he's kinda silly</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-64cac0409d060f4d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D64cac0409d060f4d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159308%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D28F79154310FDB5B9A28BC0EB752F7BDFFB851E6.7D5E232E5045E98616D45C34F6C8CCB8E1113B00%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D64cac0409d060f4d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DcpwmL8EiOJcIefyzVV4wbt7rW1g&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D64cac0409d060f4d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159308%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D28F79154310FDB5B9A28BC0EB752F7BDFFB851E6.7D5E232E5045E98616D45C34F6C8CCB8E1113B00%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D64cac0409d060f4d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DcpwmL8EiOJcIefyzVV4wbt7rW1g&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The little girl you hear screaming is actually Ethan. Then there is Barnabas who is also screaming in the background&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-2ca98e5cb4e3a58b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2ca98e5cb4e3a58b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159308%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D72F5761BFC030984165F033A02AC041B88C999EA.52D5A737111EF22150D9E3EA9893650D324CBFF9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2ca98e5cb4e3a58b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DhOdupMwK18F7FenrtvAS3om2h5o&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v18.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D2ca98e5cb4e3a58b%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159308%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D72F5761BFC030984165F033A02AC041B88C999EA.52D5A737111EF22150D9E3EA9893650D324CBFF9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D2ca98e5cb4e3a58b%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DhOdupMwK18F7FenrtvAS3om2h5o&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;More of silly uncle Matthew. When we went to Ohio for our interview last week, there was a little boy named Ethan that was there for her to play with. On finding out that his name was Ethan she began to tell the pastor about her cousins, the conversation sounded like this: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Erin: .....I have an Ethan too, and there's Maddie, aunt Cindi and uncle Matthew...but he's kinda silly. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;She loves her uncle Matthew.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6142363087749190679?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6142363087749190679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/09/uncle-matthewhes-kinda-silly.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6142363087749190679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6142363087749190679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/09/uncle-matthewhes-kinda-silly.html' title='Uncle Matthew.....he&apos;s kinda silly'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8089918441037110233</id><published>2009-09-23T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T18:43:00.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Washable Markers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMveDhCLI/AAAAAAAAAOA/i8ZtnBekEtY/s1600-h/aug-sept.+09+127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384841420368578738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMveDhCLI/AAAAAAAAAOA/i8ZtnBekEtY/s320/aug-sept.+09+127.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMu_rwQZI/AAAAAAAAAN4/A-j3VKx1ovI/s1600-h/aug-sept.+09+126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384841412215849362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMu_rwQZI/AAAAAAAAAN4/A-j3VKx1ovI/s320/aug-sept.+09+126.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMuftF-gI/AAAAAAAAANw/9-0-3Rtx16U/s1600-h/aug-sept.+09+125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384841403631532546" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMuftF-gI/AAAAAAAAANw/9-0-3Rtx16U/s320/aug-sept.+09+125.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is why we use washable markers. This is also what happens when mommy doesn't feel good and isn't paying attention to what the kids are doing. After he had done this he also filled is diaper and so as I was trying to get him clean with a wash cloth he began to get impatient with me, he started to get sweaty and the marker slowly dripped down his forehead. Then he got really mad at me because the wet washcloth was not getting it off of his hand quick enough and he started to cry. Now the marker is getting in his eye dripping down his nose and into his mouth. It was at this point I decided I was just going to put him in the tub and hose him down. As I was washing him, he was screaming at me because he does not like the shower head, he likes the bath better, so I used this as a nice teaching moment. This is how the conversation went between Aiden and I:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aiden: (screaming) I want bath....I want bath....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Me: I'm trying to hurry up Aiden, I just want to get you clean, it's not really bath time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aiden: (screaming) NO!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Me: Aiden, are you going to write on yourself with a marker again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Aiden: (in the saddest little tiny voice) no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8089918441037110233?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8089918441037110233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/09/washable-markers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8089918441037110233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8089918441037110233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/09/washable-markers.html' title='Washable Markers'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SrrMveDhCLI/AAAAAAAAAOA/i8ZtnBekEtY/s72-c/aug-sept.+09+127.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8800330294565123935</id><published>2009-08-31T14:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T14:39:00.349-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What am I supposed to learn from this?</title><content type='html'>Wow it has been a very stressful day for me. I don't mean to sound selfish it has been a stressful day for many in my family today and my heart is hurting for them. I'm just not sure where to begin with all that is going through my head today. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I have a boulder sitting right in the middle. I feel at any moment I could "toss my cookies", I'm a little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;shaky&lt;/span&gt; as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the story. I told you in my last post that Eric and I were going to Indiana for an interview. What I didn't tell you is that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; before we went I was in a small car accident. It was very minor and no one was hurt, just very &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;inconvenient&lt;/span&gt;. I was actually on my way to get Erin from preschool. It was at a four way stop and of course there is a disagreement as to whose turn it was. Anyway long story short today is the day that I took my car to get it looked at by the other persons insurance. So far things have gone very easy and it seems even her insurance carrier agrees it was not my fault. I just got a little nervous that it wouldn't go well this morning, this is all new to me because my last car accident was when I was sixteen. I had to go by myself with my two kids, who by the way were extremely well behaved. Turns out it went very well I didn't have to answer any questions, he basically checked out my car and gave me the papers. We still have to wait for the police report and for them to finish the "investigation". (I'm not really fond of that word, it makes me feel a little like a criminal)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the interview. Friday morning we had our interview and it went well....I think. I am always second guessing myself after the fact. I judge myself pretty harshly. I want this so badly for Eric and for myself and our family. After talking with the pastor we really felt like this is a family and community oriented church. It seems to be the perfect fit for us. Who knows the other six people were probably thinking the same thing. So after we left we were told Monday or Tuesday we should hear something. So here we are &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt; at 4:11p.m. and still haven't heard anything. My mind is wandering and I know you won't be &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; by this but here are a few thoughts I have had today.&lt;br /&gt; "we haven't heard because he doesn't want to disappoint us."&lt;br /&gt;"They have probably already called the person they want and are just holding off on telling the rest of us."&lt;br /&gt; "did we say something that would have completely changed his mind"&lt;br /&gt;"We've been out of the ministry for a year....who's going to want us now."&lt;br /&gt;So now if we don't hear anything by the end of today, I have to go through this another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note: this is also &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Eric's&lt;/span&gt; birthday. I am feeling bad because we have had so much going on this last weekend that I haven't had time to plan anything. I realize that birthdays are not all about the presents but I am also feeling bad because I haven't gotten him anything either. He is always so good at making sure I feel celebrated and loved on my birthday. I want so badly to one year really &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;surprise&lt;/span&gt; him and make him feel loved and supported. On top of that because we are down to one car the poor guy has to take the bus home from work. Now I don't mean to sound like I am complaining I am just explaining my feelings of "why God why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for my last and final concern for the day. My uncle is in the hospital today. He went in last night and has been in for the day. I know it has to do with his heart but that it was not a heart attack yet. I have not heard an update but I'm sure I would have heard if things had gotten worse. As far as I know it's good he went in and that they have caught this in it's early stages. I know that for any family it is hard to hear a loved one is in the hospital. I just know that even though we all don't see each other as often as we would all like, we are a very close family. It is hard because my grandpa died at such a young age and I know that this thought has probably crossed other minds today. We are all praying for you uncle Charlie and love you very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am blessed to be a part of such a strong christian family that we can ban together and lift each other up in prayer. What touches me the most is that even in this unexpected &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; with my uncle, I am still getting messages from aunts and cousins that they are praying for Eric and I as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in all of this I am wondering what is the lesson today? What should I take from this all? I know that I will make it through this day, maybe even a little bit stronger than I was. I know that I am thankful for this day even in all the trials.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;" Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done. Sing to him, sing praise to him; tell of all his wonderful acts. Glory in his holy name; let the hearts of those who seek the Lord rejoice. Look to the Lord and his strength; seek his face always. Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced,..." Psalm 105:1-5&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8800330294565123935?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8800330294565123935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-am-i-supposed-to-learn-from-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8800330294565123935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8800330294565123935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-am-i-supposed-to-learn-from-this.html' title='What am I supposed to learn from this?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8043387883509809309</id><published>2009-08-27T18:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T18:45:44.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A prayer Request</title><content type='html'>So for all my blog followers, (which I know are mostly family and friends) I am asking for a little prayer for Eric and I. We will be driving to Terra Haute Indiana tomorrow morning in the very early hours to meet with a pastor about a potential youth pastor position. I am anxious and excited about this. I have such a good feeling about this church and am fearing disappointment. God has gotten us this far for a reason and I am praying as well as Eric that this turn into a job for him. I'm not sure if I'm making sense, I've had a long day but wanted to recruit some prayer warriors on our behalf. We are one of five candidates they are looking at and things may change after tomorrow but as of right now we are both excited about the possibility of taking this job. We shall see. I will keep you updated. Thanks in advance for the prayers. Oh and our meeting time is 9:30 a.m. Indiana time and 8:30 a.m. Illinois time. Also pray that we make it there safely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8043387883509809309?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8043387883509809309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/prayer-request.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8043387883509809309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8043387883509809309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/prayer-request.html' title='A prayer Request'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-7631190530025036728</id><published>2009-08-26T14:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T14:48:46.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late I know! Erin's first day of Preschool</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp-C9AGOI/AAAAAAAAANo/KgpqJ_ESFwg/s1600-h/1st+day+of+preschool+022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374388613746268386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp-C9AGOI/AAAAAAAAANo/KgpqJ_ESFwg/s320/1st+day+of+preschool+022.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp9voemcI/AAAAAAAAANg/NPVW0ORpf2o/s1600-h/1st+day+of+preschool+017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374388608559913410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp9voemcI/AAAAAAAAANg/NPVW0ORpf2o/s320/1st+day+of+preschool+017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp9OSEu_I/AAAAAAAAANY/dOCJsCE-kNw/s1600-h/1st+day+of+preschool+015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374388599607573490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp9OSEu_I/AAAAAAAAANY/dOCJsCE-kNw/s320/1st+day+of+preschool+015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp8Z6s3LI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TTgM3xN7b-U/s1600-h/1st+day+of+preschool+013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374388585550896306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp8Z6s3LI/AAAAAAAAANQ/TTgM3xN7b-U/s320/1st+day+of+preschool+013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp7aDhaJI/AAAAAAAAANI/ML3bKR13QR8/s1600-h/1st+day+of+preschool+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374388568408025234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp7aDhaJI/AAAAAAAAANI/ML3bKR13QR8/s320/1st+day+of+preschool+007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well they are kind of out of order but you get the picture. This was one excited little girl starting preschool. It was a fun day and she enjoyed every bit of it. She told me that she wanted to go back every day. I took that as a good sign she liked it. She also said to me "mom, my teacher made me take a rest with my shoes on." She thought that was a little odd because at home we take our shoes off when we take a rest. She had a great time and I was glad to have her back by the end of the day. I'm glad it's only two days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-7631190530025036728?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/7631190530025036728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/late-i-know-erins-first-day-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7631190530025036728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7631190530025036728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/late-i-know-erins-first-day-of.html' title='Late I know! Erin&apos;s first day of Preschool'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SpWp-C9AGOI/AAAAAAAAANo/KgpqJ_ESFwg/s72-c/1st+day+of+preschool+022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-7949817088248355010</id><published>2009-08-01T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T09:02:45.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Video of Holiday World</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Erin was a very brave girl, going on all kinds of rides. This was the kid version of an adult ride. When we saw the big one she wanted to go on that one too. We are lucky that she wasn't tall enough for that ride yet....shew! Although there were not too many adult rides that she couldn't go on. I don't know what we'll do next year....let's hope daddy is still willing to go on those rides with her, because mommy has a very weak stomach. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Watch this video of Erin and daddy, listen closely she is the little girl giggling in the background.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-70505dd83d23cc39" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D70505dd83d23cc39%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D491136C2D8AEDFC5C48290FD661353AB0379E2B.7D041ED1EF31FF3B523F29019B38AC446D206046%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D70505dd83d23cc39%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPSK9-EoX99BmGTB6qYzHio_-iHQ&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D70505dd83d23cc39%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D491136C2D8AEDFC5C48290FD661353AB0379E2B.7D041ED1EF31FF3B523F29019B38AC446D206046%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D70505dd83d23cc39%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPSK9-EoX99BmGTB6qYzHio_-iHQ&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-7949817088248355010?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=70505dd83d23cc39&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/7949817088248355010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-video-of-holiday-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7949817088248355010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7949817088248355010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/08/more-video-of-holiday-world.html' title='More Video of Holiday World'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-1999956751239329989</id><published>2009-07-30T13:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T13:35:32.316-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our trip to Holiday World</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is a video of the kids in the kiddie bumper boats. Watch Aiden in the back ground, it makes me laugh every time. We had such a good time. Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!  I will post more pictures and videos later. This one was my favorite.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a64d617e3c70dcbc" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da64d617e3c70dcbc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D384E037B0630D2B61A818E676C8272D486CD5292.5782690509CA4C9BD57DEA4E0837182EC2F24C33%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da64d617e3c70dcbc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBeB6LIwKdSo9vk2mVJjaiZ6yvWc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da64d617e3c70dcbc%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D384E037B0630D2B61A818E676C8272D486CD5292.5782690509CA4C9BD57DEA4E0837182EC2F24C33%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da64d617e3c70dcbc%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBeB6LIwKdSo9vk2mVJjaiZ6yvWc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-1999956751239329989?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a64d617e3c70dcbc&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/1999956751239329989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/our-trip-to-holiday-world.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1999956751239329989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1999956751239329989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/our-trip-to-holiday-world.html' title='Our trip to Holiday World'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5172891695332453374</id><published>2009-07-30T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T08:54:35.246-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Precious Photos</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Eric came across an old memory card from our old camera. We hadn't emptied the pictures onto the computer yet. It was fun to see how much we've all changed in such a short time. I have not shown any of me, Eric says that these pictures were from my healthier days (meaning I was eating well) I am happy to say I have slimmed down nicely and have finally lost most of the baby weight. Anyway I thought I would share some of our memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-XXG7sxI/AAAAAAAAANA/Yh3G7atk5A4/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277939724333842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-XXG7sxI/AAAAAAAAANA/Yh3G7atk5A4/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was our other dachshund Zach, he was a sweet dog who loved to sit in your lap. He would try so very hard to lick everyone in the nose. He loved people. We miss him a lot he was hit by a car in the front of our house in Michigan and this was probably one of the last pictures we took of him. He was a big fan of the boppy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-XEQHW8I/AAAAAAAAAM4/wbnTPxlRUHQ/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277934662572994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-XEQHW8I/AAAAAAAAAM4/wbnTPxlRUHQ/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+155.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-W7DHMMI/AAAAAAAAAMw/uB-hirBhfwo/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277932192116930" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-W7DHMMI/AAAAAAAAAMw/uB-hirBhfwo/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+158.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                               Mimi with her girls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9xakd-1I/AAAAAAAAAMo/dqfa01KqC2o/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277287818492754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9xakd-1I/AAAAAAAAAMo/dqfa01KqC2o/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+109.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9xFkvwGI/AAAAAAAAAMg/K5d5aFxtATA/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277282182512738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9xFkvwGI/AAAAAAAAAMg/K5d5aFxtATA/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+097.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                      Isabella really does look like Erin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9w3uZnmI/AAAAAAAAAMY/nHbOcNfuskM/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277278464908898" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9w3uZnmI/AAAAAAAAAMY/nHbOcNfuskM/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+089.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9wptiuJI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ymqEIGLvky8/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277274703214738" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9wptiuJI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ymqEIGLvky8/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+072.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9wASCy2I/AAAAAAAAAMI/cv5wHhNPyRg/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364277263582022498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG9wASCy2I/AAAAAAAAAMI/cv5wHhNPyRg/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+063.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                Toilet Bear! Erin thought he needed to go potty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7r2ywJ6I/AAAAAAAAAMA/yxGvotrdS3g/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274993292126114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7r2ywJ6I/AAAAAAAAAMA/yxGvotrdS3g/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+064.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7rgOCkFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/SZB8EcM2w9I/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274987232563282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7rgOCkFI/AAAAAAAAAL4/SZB8EcM2w9I/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+056.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7rYM1bFI/AAAAAAAAALw/vMb_CrLm3b4/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274985080024146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7rYM1bFI/AAAAAAAAALw/vMb_CrLm3b4/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+051.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7q_gQWfI/AAAAAAAAALg/DIWOxNqAqNo/s1600-h/Lost+pictures+of+kids+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364274978450594290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG7q_gQWfI/AAAAAAAAALg/DIWOxNqAqNo/s320/Lost+pictures+of+kids+004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5172891695332453374?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5172891695332453374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/precious-photos.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5172891695332453374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5172891695332453374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/precious-photos.html' title='Precious Photos'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SnG-XXG7sxI/AAAAAAAAANA/Yh3G7atk5A4/s72-c/Lost+pictures+of+kids+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-1911629396669407981</id><published>2009-07-23T13:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T13:56:34.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I thought I would give you a little peak into my mind. I know you are all sitting on the edge of your seats waiting to hear what wisdom I will give to you. Just hold on to your seats cause here I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do some of my best thinking in the bathroom. There are times that I come out of the bathroom full of good ideas, although after I speak them out loud Eric is never as excited about them as I am. Anyway I'm not sure why it is that I do good thinking in there. Maybe because it's the only room in the house that I can actually get a few minutes to myself. This is what was going on in my head while I was getting ready for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin was on my mind because we really had a bad day yesterday. She always has a pout on her face and just has a bad attitude. So as I am replaying the day through my mind I'm trying to figure out where I have gone wrong. I figure it's normal for a mother to question her parenting skills. I'm just feeling a little stressed and not sure what to do with her. I replayed a conversation Eric and I had after he came home. (He had taken Aiden to go hit some golf balls and Erin went to church with me, Erin had an episode at church also) As he walked in the door  I said as politely as I could "Eric, just so you know....I'm done, she is bathed, pjs on I'm taking the rest of the night off." Even as I said it I knew it wasn't true because I can't ignore my kids. I can't ignore what is going on around me. I feel guilty for wanting some time away from them. I did end up being the one to put Erin to bed. As I was giving her a kiss goodnight I said to her "You know I love you right?" She of course said "yes" with a big smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there my thoughts switched to the bible study we had that night. I am studying Esther it's a Beth Moore bible study. We are on the end of chapter six and beginning of chapter seven. When Esther reveals to king Xerxes Hamans plan to kill her and her people. She talked about how the story is starting to come full circle. There are things happening that will start to mimic the beginning but in reverse. She called it a reversal of destiny. So cool!! She is an amazing teacher and I love to watch her and listen to her speak. As I was remembering last nights video these are the two thoughts that came to me.&lt;br /&gt;1. Wow, she is so dynamic and has so much knowledge of the bible. I wonder if I could ever be that knowledgeable. I envy those who can memorize scripture so easily and who have such an understanding of the bible and it's history.&lt;br /&gt;2. I love the scenario, (those who have taken this will understand what I mean by scenario)&lt;br /&gt;It's tough being a woman who feels responsible for the "how." Oh how I struggle with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think about that time I was getting ready to dry my hair and I heard in the back ground....."Come here drizella, I'm tinker bell." This was Erin calling Aiden Drizella. My thoughts quickly went to this:&lt;br /&gt;I really have got to get some boy movies for Aiden and I wonder if I could make some play dates for him with boys. I have this fear that he may start to believe that he is actually a girl. Who knows what Erin tells him when I'm not listening.  We already have an issue with him calling his underwear panties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....and that everyone is how quickly my thoughts can go from deep and meaningful to completely irrational thoughts of my son thinking he might be a girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-1911629396669407981?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/1911629396669407981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/some-random-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1911629396669407981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1911629396669407981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/some-random-thoughts.html' title='Some Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-876336993738649169</id><published>2009-07-17T14:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T15:27:56.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here are our Zoo Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD32SKA30I/AAAAAAAAALY/c1AVDovRnHI/s1600-h/summer+09-1+232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359556068529725250" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD32SKA30I/AAAAAAAAALY/c1AVDovRnHI/s320/summer+09-1+232.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                               Aiden already didn't want his picture taken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD32EnF3QI/AAAAAAAAALQ/9HoQiiopmgA/s1600-h/summer+09-1+244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359556064893590786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD32EnF3QI/AAAAAAAAALQ/9HoQiiopmgA/s320/summer+09-1+244.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                     I had never seen the front of the Rhinos before usually we get their backends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD314VIP9I/AAAAAAAAALI/YZJAMvkWvq8/s1600-h/summer+09-1+260.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359556061597024210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD314VIP9I/AAAAAAAAALI/YZJAMvkWvq8/s320/summer+09-1+260.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   The girls playing on a fake snake. Erin waited for Maddie to touch it before she decided it was ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD31YJtXfI/AAAAAAAAALA/uNP3nXT2yKY/s1600-h/summer+09-1+263.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359556052959190514" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD31YJtXfI/AAAAAAAAALA/uNP3nXT2yKY/s320/summer+09-1+263.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2QhgHOaI/AAAAAAAAAK4/GocMJNekQi4/s1600-h/summer+09-1+264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359554320302291362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2QhgHOaI/AAAAAAAAAK4/GocMJNekQi4/s320/summer+09-1+264.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2QbHVinI/AAAAAAAAAKw/u-KrY4ikkZg/s1600-h/summer+09-1+266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359554318587759218" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2QbHVinI/AAAAAAAAAKw/u-KrY4ikkZg/s320/summer+09-1+266.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                     I could never get Eric to look at me so I could take his picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2QDdMBZI/AAAAAAAAAKo/3sLkdGbp2vI/s1600-h/summer+09-1+270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359554312236959122" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2QDdMBZI/AAAAAAAAAKo/3sLkdGbp2vI/s320/summer+09-1+270.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                  One of the babies. We got to see them play in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2PnplK4I/AAAAAAAAAKg/19KLSWKrVtM/s1600-h/summer+09-1+285.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359554304772746114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2PnplK4I/AAAAAAAAAKg/19KLSWKrVtM/s320/summer+09-1+285.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was before we went to see the butterfly house. That's all Maddie talked about but when we got in there she kept saying " I want to see other animals."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2PCWZX2I/AAAAAAAAAKY/qJ-atRkRwrw/s1600-h/summer+09-1+290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359554294760169314" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD2PCWZX2I/AAAAAAAAAKY/qJ-atRkRwrw/s320/summer+09-1+290.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                      This is so true! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0ilbL8cI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/8__-XwDghsU/s1600-h/summer+09-1+297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359552431569760706" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0ilbL8cI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/8__-XwDghsU/s320/summer+09-1+297.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While we were finishing our lunch the kids were all lined up on this fence looking at the animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359552426235690306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0iRjcfUI/AAAAAAAAAKI/jKKF_nPRHPM/s320/summer+09-1+310.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0h2pPMWI/AAAAAAAAAKA/tJL4DcKjtDk/s1600-h/summer+09-1+316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359552419012227426" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0h2pPMWI/AAAAAAAAAKA/tJL4DcKjtDk/s320/summer+09-1+316.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;       Erin had brought her little pink princess camra that is actually like a view finder. She was pretending to take pictures of the animals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0huZJrpI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Ep7vNRWqETY/s1600-h/summer+09-1+323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359552416797273746" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0huZJrpI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/Ep7vNRWqETY/s320/summer+09-1+323.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0hOImLJI/AAAAAAAAAJw/zM9TaYok4BQ/s1600-h/summer+09-1+332.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359552408137903250" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD0hOImLJI/AAAAAAAAAJw/zM9TaYok4BQ/s320/summer+09-1+332.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                  The tigers were very playful that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy4QWeghI/AAAAAAAAAJo/yZIREFJPp8M/s1600-h/summer+09-1+328.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359550604846727698" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy4QWeghI/AAAAAAAAAJo/yZIREFJPp8M/s320/summer+09-1+328.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy4CHQ-LI/AAAAAAAAAJg/5Jk6T-7ON70/s1600-h/summer+09-1+340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359550601024829618" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy4CHQ-LI/AAAAAAAAAJg/5Jk6T-7ON70/s320/summer+09-1+340.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy37MuQQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Woi27iWmB40/s1600-h/summer+09-1+344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359550599168672002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy37MuQQI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Woi27iWmB40/s320/summer+09-1+344.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy3vUvxfI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/ytob7w0xa2c/s1600-h/summer+09-1+358.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359550595981100530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy3vUvxfI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/ytob7w0xa2c/s320/summer+09-1+358.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy3bnIKNI/AAAAAAAAAJI/aaoO0kfjqTk/s1600-h/summer+09-1+362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359550590689487058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmDy3bnIKNI/AAAAAAAAAJI/aaoO0kfjqTk/s320/summer+09-1+362.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                It was time to go home. Momma was tired!&lt;br /&gt;                                 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a good time at the zoo. Grammy and Aunt Cindi were with us too, but some how they managed to stay out of the pictures. It was a fun day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-876336993738649169?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/876336993738649169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/here-are-our-zoo-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/876336993738649169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/876336993738649169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/here-are-our-zoo-pictures.html' title='Here are our Zoo Pictures'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SmD32SKA30I/AAAAAAAAALY/c1AVDovRnHI/s72-c/summer+09-1+232.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-3009536999218240708</id><published>2009-07-14T13:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T13:57:51.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peanut Butter and Shelly's</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ac1408daa29cc95d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dac1408daa29cc95d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2F45ADB4EF3B7C1494988765797B0010DC9B85A1.2F598BCABD21933D35A95C8A723BFBF00BEE3A76%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dac1408daa29cc95d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DmJ-HbhWBahFGpBC5i43wBPMlNIY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v12.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dac1408daa29cc95d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330159309%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D2F45ADB4EF3B7C1494988765797B0010DC9B85A1.2F598BCABD21933D35A95C8A723BFBF00BEE3A76%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dac1408daa29cc95d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DmJ-HbhWBahFGpBC5i43wBPMlNIY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-3009536999218240708?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=ac1408daa29cc95d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/3009536999218240708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/peanut-butter-and-shellys.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3009536999218240708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3009536999218240708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/peanut-butter-and-shellys.html' title='Peanut Butter and Shelly&apos;s'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-735051495133962762</id><published>2009-07-09T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T20:09:02.029-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aunt Leah came to Visit</title><content type='html'>I will have to post pictures later of our trip to the zoo.  We like to go to the zoo any time we can. This post is actually a funny little story that happened in the car on the way home. I also have to start the story by saying that while Leah was with us, the kids liked to play ring around the rosy, and that Erin and Aiden would get dizzy. I'm pretty sure that Erin knows what Dizzy means, but she always says "busy". For example she will be spinning around in circles and say..."mom this is making me busy."&lt;br /&gt;So on the way home Erin kept trying to get Aunt Leah to look back at her. I don't really remember why. Leah kept telling her "I'm busy" So this is how the conversation goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Aunt Leah look at me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leah: I can't I'm busy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin : Did you play too much ring around the rosy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE HE!! This girl cracks me up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-735051495133962762?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/735051495133962762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/aunt-leah-came-to-visit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/735051495133962762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/735051495133962762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/07/aunt-leah-came-to-visit.html' title='Aunt Leah came to Visit'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6824509888780143170</id><published>2009-06-25T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T07:56:03.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brown Eyes</title><content type='html'>I am sitting here looking through all the pictures of my kids, and am able to recall exactly when the pictures were taken and what we were doing. I'm so glad that we have this kind of technology that we can capture memories with our family.&lt;br /&gt;When I look into their little faces the are full of such happiness and life. There are times when I am not the kind of mom I should be to them, but they are always so forgiving. I pray every day for patience as a mother and a wife. I pray that I can be a good example of what a Godly woman looks like.&lt;br /&gt; I want a lot of things for my kids, but I am also very grateful for what God has already given me in my children. He has given them big hearts, loving hearts. I can see how much they love other people, even before they meet them. Erin especially, every where we go she sees other kids and calls them her friend before she meets them. When we go to the park she is always looking for someone she can play with. Erin and Aiden also play so well together, I can tell that they really love each other. Aiden really doesn't like his sister to be away from him for too long.&lt;br /&gt;While most moms wish for their children to have blue eyes. I LOVE my BROWN eyed kids!!!  Thank you God for my brown eyed kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6824509888780143170?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6824509888780143170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/brown-eyes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6824509888780143170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6824509888780143170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/brown-eyes.html' title='Brown Eyes'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4528537306150039441</id><published>2009-06-17T20:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T20:30:06.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Great Idea</title><content type='html'>This is a little story for those who know my Erin Marie and her signature line "is that a great idea?" I'm not really sure when she actually started to say this but it is a common phrase used repeatedly throughout the day. Usually when she is trying to get me to do something or give her something and she follows up the suggestion with "is that a great idea mom?" hoping that maybe if I think it's a great idea I will do it. Other times I've heard her use it is when I tell her we are going to do something and she thinks it's a great idea, she will rephrase the suggestion as if she came up with the idea on her own and then say "is that a great idea mom?" Whenever family talks about Erin usually this phrase is used as an example of all the silly things she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to my story. Even though I notice how much she uses this phrase it did not occur to me that she was aware that this was her famous line....until today. As we were coming home from VBS this afternoon Aiden was asking where his daddy was. So I explained that daddy had to go to work. This is how the conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;           Aiden: Daddy hone? (home)&lt;br /&gt;            Me:      No baby, daddy had to go to work.&lt;br /&gt;           Aiden: See daddy at work?&lt;br /&gt;            Me:    You want to go see daddy at work?&lt;br /&gt;           Aiden: yes.....great idea?&lt;br /&gt;           Erin:     No Aiden, you don't say is that a great idea, I'm supposed to say that.&lt;br /&gt;             Me: *laughing*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so funny to hear Aiden use Erin's famous line, and even funnier that Erin was upset by the fact that he used it. Aiden used the phrase again tonight, trying to get me to let him go swimming. So it seems that he has picked up on the power of the phrase "is that a great idea?"  I am blessed with two beautiful children who are always giving me reason to smile and laugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4528537306150039441?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4528537306150039441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/great-idea.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4528537306150039441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4528537306150039441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/great-idea.html' title='A Great Idea'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4768986852833256701</id><published>2009-06-16T13:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T13:56:13.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our trip to the zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFTPHVjWI/AAAAAAAAAI4/6cEir9SZBY8/s1600-h/101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348030385535421794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFTPHVjWI/AAAAAAAAAI4/6cEir9SZBY8/s320/101.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was actually after we came home and she was suppposed to be "resting"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFS_rv0gI/AAAAAAAAAIw/KSuTKTmmsqA/s1600-h/086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348030381393170946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFS_rv0gI/AAAAAAAAAIw/KSuTKTmmsqA/s320/086.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; She was probably telling me another one of her "great" ideas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFSgMF8RI/AAAAAAAAAIo/gqqNyLnrJO8/s1600-h/081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348030372938903826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFSgMF8RI/AAAAAAAAAIo/gqqNyLnrJO8/s320/081.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lovin on my babies!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFSKRSj1I/AAAAAAAAAIg/Uhgm0xdmT18/s1600-h/071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348030367055122258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFSKRSj1I/AAAAAAAAAIg/Uhgm0xdmT18/s320/071.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Enjoying the fact that Aiden got out to walk for a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFR0KQPGI/AAAAAAAAAIY/MwNelJtHZo8/s1600-h/069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348030361120029794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFR0KQPGI/AAAAAAAAAIY/MwNelJtHZo8/s320/069.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Aiden not enjoying the peguine puffin house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD6po2uII/AAAAAAAAAIQ/5he_cC6SAV0/s1600-h/062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348028863646972034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD6po2uII/AAAAAAAAAIQ/5he_cC6SAV0/s320/062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Love them!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD6f2ih6I/AAAAAAAAAII/qfabhmNnTww/s1600-h/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348028861020014498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD6f2ih6I/AAAAAAAAAII/qfabhmNnTww/s320/053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Daddy and his "mini me"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD6KZML4I/AAAAAAAAAIA/1wx4w98-Egw/s1600-h/052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348028855259770754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD6KZML4I/AAAAAAAAAIA/1wx4w98-Egw/s320/052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD5--nGSI/AAAAAAAAAH4/VMygCShrUCQ/s1600-h/048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348028852195498274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD5--nGSI/AAAAAAAAAH4/VMygCShrUCQ/s320/048.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD5SqNJSI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gEylRIaKznk/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348028840298751266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgD5SqNJSI/AAAAAAAAAHw/gEylRIaKznk/s320/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We took our wagon this trip, it was the best idea we've had, they did great! We had snacks and drinks all ready in their backpacks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4768986852833256701?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4768986852833256701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-trip-to-zoo.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4768986852833256701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4768986852833256701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/our-trip-to-zoo.html' title='Our trip to the zoo'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SjgFTPHVjWI/AAAAAAAAAI4/6cEir9SZBY8/s72-c/101.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-1188153543198537110</id><published>2009-06-10T10:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T10:48:34.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in House/dog sitting!</title><content type='html'>I have been house sitting since Sunday night. The plan was to actually stay over there for the time they are out of town so that Eric and I could have some family time and pretend that we live there. This is an awesome house with an amazing kitchen that one of these days I'm going to try out. Anyway Erin and Aiden had spent Thursday - Sunday out on the farm with their grandparents. (Eric and I celebrated our 5 year anniversary on Friday) So I was expecting the kids to be pretty exhausted and thought they would need a night in their own beds. I was of course correct.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday night I went to the house to check on the dog and feed all of the fish. That went well I just didn't like having to leave the dog in his kennel over night, but we did thinking that we would be able to stay with him the next few nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My first adventure was this tiny little frog that lives in a little aquarium I kept staring at him waiting for him to move and nothing. So I thought to myself, how am i going to tell them that on my first night i have already killed one of their pets. I am not a frog lover so you know this was way out of my comfort zone, I stuck my finger in the water to see if this frog would move. Finally, he scooted a little...that satisfied me and I went about my duties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning came and Erin came in at 6:30a.m. I immediately thought to myself " this is not good" She normally sleeps until 7:30 or later. I was anticipating very a very crabby girl by the afternoon. I was correct yet again, Aiden even slept in and was still crabby. So I knew we had some work to do on getting them back to their regular schedule. I am not an extremely scheduled person but we do try to do naps and bedtime around the same time so that they are getting a good amount of sleep. I was realizing that it would not be a good idea to try sleeping in a strange house where they don't have their own beds, so this began my real adventures in house/dog sitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning after I was woken up so early I decided to go let the dog out and make sure he was OK before Eric went to work. So I go in my pajamas because who's going to see me. So I go and all is smooth sailing. I also took the kids over in the afternoon and we played with the dog and gave him some exercise. That was fun, the kids enjoyed it, this dog is a lot more tolerant of my children than our own dog. Although I think that if my dogs didn't have them in their faces all day long they might be ok with the kids too. So we went home and I knew I needed to go back over there to feed the dog and fish again. As we got later into the day we had some awful storms so I waited until it was safe and went over there not knowing what to expect. Thank you Jesus that he protected their house because I was not sure what I would do with all of those fish. All was well and we went over a couple more times before the night was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning I had the same routine, Erin up early, I go check on dog in my pajamas. Only this time I forgot that while this family was gone they were having their house power washed. To my surprise I was greeted by a bunch of strange men staring at me as I tried to walk in the house without being noticed. I was in my PJ's, hair pulled back, glasses on, not my best look. Although at least I put my hair back, because I'm not sure what they would have though if I left it down, (it is not a good idea to go to bed with wet hair) So my plan is to get in let the dog out and get out as quickly as possible. It worked out well until the getting out part, some how the dog got super fast powers and before I could turn around to block him from getting out he was already out. Use your imaginations here....I am running after a dog, in my pajamas with my purse and keys in my hand looking quite foolish and he went right for the guys working on the house. Everyone who has a dog knows that when you lunge at a dog it will run. I was trying to be as gentle as I could and tiptoe close to him to try to grab his collar. I'm pretty sure he was toying with me because he would sit very still until I would reach for his collar and off he would go again. The men were nice enough to help me and they coaxed the dog to them, because of course the dog will go to a complete stranger. I got him back in and got out of there as fast as I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily before that big episode I had talked to the owners and we worked out another plan and I was able to take the dog to another person's house for them to watch. Which actually worked out well because when I went to pick him up the guys told me that he had been barking the whole time. I'm sure the poor thing was a little scared of what was going on at his house. So now I just have to make it through without killing any of their fish and I'm good to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the mean time I am still trying to get the kids back on a good sleep schedule. We have done well today. Erin and Aiden slept until 7:30. I know some may look at this and say..."what's the big deal it's only an hour difference." but I say "Oh what a difference an hour makes" Ha ha...cheesy yes, but so true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon I will have pictures. We have zoo pictures and our first swim of the season pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-1188153543198537110?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/1188153543198537110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/adventures-in-housedog-sitting.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1188153543198537110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1188153543198537110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/06/adventures-in-housedog-sitting.html' title='Adventures in House/dog sitting!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4173877617540644163</id><published>2009-05-13T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T13:25:20.534-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My thoughts for the week</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335406513165706418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sgsr9J2MJLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FHwO_H1TikM/s320/may+09+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Here is a picture of with the kids at our Easter egg hunt. My computer is out of service and we didn't take any pictures on Mother's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm kind of at a loss as to how to start this post. I don't know really what I want to talk about today. I just know that it's time to update and well here I am updating. I'll just start with my week and see where it goes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday was mother's day and it was a good day. Although no offense to my husband but I would have liked to be the one who got to sleep in that day. He was sweet though, the kids signed a card for me and he got me a gift certificate to get my nails and toes done. I'm looking forward to using it. We went to my uncle Charlie's for lunch where all our little girl cousins got to play together. The super trio were back together again with another addition, my cousin from Michigan was in with her little girl. It was fun to watch them all together and surprisingly there were no major battles between them. I'm going to take that as a sign that they have pretty super moms! I enjoyed the day with my family and wish that we could get together more often. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mondays are never fun for me especially when we were so busy on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sunday&lt;/span&gt;. Erin and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; were especially cranky do to no nap the day before. They sort of slept in a little if you can call 7:30 sleeping in. I came down stairs and listened at the door and was surprised to hear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; saying "Wake up Erin...Erin wake up" I was shocked because here we all thought it was Erin waking him up in the morning, but now I'm thinking the tables have turned. I pray for days when the kids can have their own rooms again. Tuesday was pretty much the same way, it's taken them a couple of days to get caught up on their sleep, but I think we've finally gotten there today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to confess I haven't been the best mom this week. It makes me sad that I have let myself get so worked up over the things happening in our lives. It was just mothers day and I feel like I should be rejoicing in the fact that I have two beautiful children and a loving husband. I have been crabby and on edge, I have snapped at just about everyone in my family and I am always remorseful afterwards. I am nervous about what is to come for our family. Eric is getting ready to start a new job at a new church. A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Methodist&lt;/span&gt; church, not that I have anything against it, it's just unknown to me and it makes me a little afraid. His current job is stressful with unreliable employees and an ungrateful employer. I understand that this is a pretty regular &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; out in the world but it doesn't make it feel any better. It is also important that he be able to work both jobs for a little while so that we can get out of some of our debt. I have a lot of fears of what will happen in our future and if we will ever get out on our own again. I am very appreciative of the place we have to live but I know that it can be frustrating at times for all of us living in this house. I am trying to keep my head held high and keep my eyes on the Lord, but man the devil sure knows my weaknesses. So that being said I am going to focus on the scripture that says :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you." Jeremiah 29:11&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4173877617540644163?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4173877617540644163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-thoughts-for-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4173877617540644163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4173877617540644163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-thoughts-for-week.html' title='My thoughts for the week'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sgsr9J2MJLI/AAAAAAAAAHo/FHwO_H1TikM/s72-c/may+09+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5554750294535856545</id><published>2009-04-30T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T13:24:28.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh how I love my kids!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SfoDYPuaLrI/AAAAAAAAAHg/AM5U4s43p0E/s1600-h/Cousins+apr+09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330576824019332786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SfoDYPuaLrI/AAAAAAAAAHg/AM5U4s43p0E/s320/Cousins+apr+09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They are so silly, this was taken by Eric when he was with the kids one night. He said they sat like this for a long time watching a movie.&lt;br /&gt;So I have a few stories about the kids that I just feel like I need to share because I think they are pretty funny kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;He has been doing this for a while now. He started singing this little song that goes like this "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wazzo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wazzo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wazzo&lt;/span&gt;" pretty easy song to remember right? Well it is so much fun to sing that now Erin requests that he sing it. The funny part is that there are times when he will sing this in a very deep growling raspy kind of voice that for a moment it sounds like he's saying "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;WAZZZZUP&lt;/span&gt;" like the beer commercial from a while back. The kids just sit and laugh as they sing this little song. I have no idea where this started or what he got it from. I think it's pretty cute though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, he is talking a whole lot more, and there are still times when I have a hard time understanding what he says but this one I know. "I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wub&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;eww&lt;/span&gt; mommy" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Aww&lt;/span&gt;....my heart melts especially when he cocks his head to the side, squints up his little eyes and has the sweetest little smile on his face. I just want to squeeze him so tight and never let him go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erin:&lt;br /&gt;Oh my do I need prayer with this one. Every day she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;surprises&lt;/span&gt; me with something new. That kid is always thinking. My mom called me this morning and said that she was remembering the day Erin was born and she came out talking. So true! I hadn't thought about it before but she never really cried, she let out these sweet little cat noises almost like she was trying to form some kind of word. I should have known that we were in for a ride with this child.&lt;br /&gt;This happened a while ago, but there was one night she hadn't really eaten her dinner and I felt bad so let her eat a bowl of cheerios before bed. As we were sitting there this is how the conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;Erin: can I have some more mom?&lt;br /&gt;Me: No we are just going to have one bowl tonight.&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Mom I am not asking you for another bowl, I am asking you for more cheerios!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Ahhh&lt;/span&gt;....what am I going to do with her. She amazes me with the knowledge she has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday as we were driving in the car we pulled up next to a truck. This is how the conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Why did that truck take all of our stuff?&lt;br /&gt;Me: What truck? What stuff?&lt;br /&gt;Erin: you know the truck that came to my house and took all of our stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;light bulb&lt;/span&gt; goes on) Oh...you mean when we moved to Mimi's house?&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Yes, where is my stuff, I'm never going to see it again.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Erin don't worry our stuff is at Uncle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Bryans&lt;/span&gt; house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so for those of you who don't know when we moved from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Michigan&lt;/span&gt; last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;July&lt;/span&gt; we had to store our stuff at Eric's uncles house because there was not enough room at my parents for all of our stuff. Also during the conversation she was naming toys that were missing. Now I don't know about other kids but I thought that with kids this young it was kind of an out of sight out of mind thing. Apparently I was wrong because Erin Marie remembers everything. She is too smart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now, although it won't be long before they both give me new material to share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5554750294535856545?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5554750294535856545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-how-i-love-my-kids.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5554750294535856545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5554750294535856545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-how-i-love-my-kids.html' title='Oh how I love my kids!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SfoDYPuaLrI/AAAAAAAAAHg/AM5U4s43p0E/s72-c/Cousins+apr+09+006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6666495336837981780</id><published>2009-04-21T07:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T08:14:42.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rainy Days</title><content type='html'>We actually did this a few weeks ago but it's been kind of rainy the last few days and it reminded me I had these pictures to put up still.&lt;br /&gt;When we moved back home from Michigan I didn't think I would need snow boots for the kids this year because we hardly get enough snow here to play in. Well I was wrong so Papa (my dad) got the kids these rain boots on clearance at Lands end. It turns out they are pretty handy. We have used them in the snow, rain and on days when we feel like singing B-O-O-T-S!&lt;br /&gt;On this particular day it rained hard for just a short period of time, enough to make nice puddles to jump in. I didn't decide to take them out until Eric came home from work. Just before he had gotten home there was a gorgeous rainbow that unfortunately I did not take a picture of. I showed Erin and Aiden and we stood at the front door just staring into the sky. Erin was pretty amazed, Aiden was not as interested. I took this opportunity to explain to Erin that God sent us rainbows as a reminder that he will never flood the earth again. I'm not sure she understood completely but we do sing the song "Who built the Ark?" Anyway I could tell the wheels were turning in her head because suddenly she looked up in the sky and said "God you need to give my daddy a new job." It took me a minute to figure out where that had come from, but I'm thinking that she understood that God keeps his promises so she thought this would be a good opportunity to ask him for another promise. Who knows what really goes on inside that pretty little head of hers, but I thought it was sweet. I don't know that Erin really understands that Eric really does need a different job, it's just that she knows that her daddy is gone a lot more than he used to be and she doesn't like it. Then again she's pretty smart and is very in tune to my feelings. She knows when mommy is upset. I'm trying to get better at not letting things affect me in front of the kids. Some days are harder than others but God gives me the strength I need to make it through another day.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway on to the pictures, after daddy came home we took them out puddle jumping for the first time. They were actually more hesitant than I thought they would be, but by the end of it they were pouring rain water out of their boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ecwvQLlI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Stoss_8Thww/s1600-h/April+09+018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327158519949962834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ecwvQLlI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Stoss_8Thww/s320/April+09+018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ecIPFhlI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/oWKO--ta6QU/s1600-h/April+09+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327158509077628498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ecIPFhlI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/oWKO--ta6QU/s320/April+09+043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3eb9fXfyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/RuJFTxzwkls/s1600-h/April+09+036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327158506193125154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3eb9fXfyI/AAAAAAAAAHI/RuJFTxzwkls/s320/April+09+036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ebivzTLI/AAAAAAAAAHA/G1kBxi437pg/s1600-h/April+09+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327158499014298802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ebivzTLI/AAAAAAAAAHA/G1kBxi437pg/s320/April+09+031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ebYA0hoI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t6WKJTiwsvY/s1600-h/April+09+003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327158496132892290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ebYA0hoI/AAAAAAAAAG4/t6WKJTiwsvY/s320/April+09+003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6666495336837981780?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6666495336837981780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/rainy-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6666495336837981780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6666495336837981780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/rainy-days.html' title='Rainy Days'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Se3ecwvQLlI/AAAAAAAAAHY/Stoss_8Thww/s72-c/April+09+018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6203910651739363766</id><published>2009-04-13T11:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T11:40:42.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cousins</title><content type='html'>Easter was full of lots of excitement. All of the girl cousins got to play together. The boys however tuckered out and were napping when all of the excitement was going on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeODNT4AcsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JyIddjwh92A/s1600-h/Easter+09+116.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324243449178780354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeODNT4AcsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JyIddjwh92A/s320/Easter+09+116.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Eric came in the bedroom to take pictures of the mess they had made, this was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kenedee&lt;/span&gt; hiding behind the crib. I think she thought they were going to get in trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB58yfi_I/AAAAAAAAAGo/NJBFFRJdY4M/s1600-h/Easter+09+113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324242017052494834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB58yfi_I/AAAAAAAAAGo/NJBFFRJdY4M/s320/Easter+09+113.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is the messy room they made. Maddie is sitting on the ball, with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Erin's&lt;/span&gt; winter hat and gloves on. They were pretending it was snowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB5pDipjI/AAAAAAAAAGg/BmmnyFnIvhs/s1600-h/Easter+09+112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324242011755292210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB5pDipjI/AAAAAAAAAGg/BmmnyFnIvhs/s320/Easter+09+112.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; is when they all came out yelling "Super Girls!" They got into the kids towels that have the hoods on them. It was so funny! They sure have big imaginations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB5Y_ip8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/4TIiOZd903c/s1600-h/Easter+09+101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324242007443548098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB5Y_ip8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/4TIiOZd903c/s320/Easter+09+101.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While we were waiting to eat lunch papa went outside and hid some more eggs for the kids to hunt. They were believing that the Easter bunny hid their eggs outside too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB5O3CsKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jTydlK25nuM/s1600-h/Easter+09+103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324242004723544226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB5O3CsKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/jTydlK25nuM/s320/Easter+09+103.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The girls were very sweet, they would find an egg and put it in the others basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB47VXAnI/AAAAAAAAAGI/KfQe9AAS12M/s1600-h/Easter+09+108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324241999481995890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeOB47VXAnI/AAAAAAAAAGI/KfQe9AAS12M/s320/Easter+09+108.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_oMaSfCI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Xb3iqFf7QNQ/s1600-h/Easter+09+089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324239512985041954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_oMaSfCI/AAAAAAAAAGA/Xb3iqFf7QNQ/s320/Easter+09+089.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This was after church, I should have taken the pictures before. They were not so willing to stand still. I couldn't get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; to stand still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_oE3lMCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/30_0rJAmHwY/s1600-h/Easter+09+091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324239510960418850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_oE3lMCI/AAAAAAAAAF4/30_0rJAmHwY/s320/Easter+09+091.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                       Handsome Ethan Michael&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_n1JYkBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/nmTTQng1jAc/s1600-h/Easter+09+092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324239506740121618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_n1JYkBI/AAAAAAAAAFw/nmTTQng1jAc/s320/Easter+09+092.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                            There's my handsome boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_nieeuZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Gah8QNlRpw4/s1600-h/Easter+09+079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324239501728332178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_nieeuZI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Gah8QNlRpw4/s320/Easter+09+079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_nZvLhoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/EUr5y6mYddQ/s1600-h/Easter+09+085.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324239499382457986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeN_nZvLhoI/AAAAAAAAAFg/EUr5y6mYddQ/s320/Easter+09+085.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls in their matching dresses. Thank you Mimi and Papa! They are always so nice and buying the girls their Easter outfits.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a very exciting Easter and also relaxing. We stayed home and everyone came to us. It helps living with my parents. The girls had lots of fun playing together. They each have very unique personalities and when they are together they have a blast. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Kenedee&lt;/span&gt; was very sweet and quite and carried this stuffed &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Kanga&lt;/span&gt; around the whole afternoon, Maddie was the clown/comedian, and Erin....well she is a little bit bossy, but they all had fun and there was very few disagreements. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; was able to join the fun for a little while after lunch, but then he needed to rest. He is a funny boy, especially with all the girls. He most likely had no clue what they are playing, but when they laugh, he laughs, and when they run, he runs. He's a precious little boy and I am very blessed to have him. I am also very blessed to have such a precious little girl. I am very grateful for my sister-in-law and cousin who have raised such sweet girls. We are a very blessed family! Thank you God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6203910651739363766?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6203910651739363766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/cousins.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6203910651739363766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6203910651739363766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/cousins.html' title='Cousins'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeODNT4AcsI/AAAAAAAAAGw/JyIddjwh92A/s72-c/Easter+09+116.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-1335062524919481288</id><published>2009-04-13T09:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T09:57:38.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Events</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7jb9XdI/AAAAAAAAAFY/lrSUwKvLTDs/s1600-h/Easter+09+073.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324218954862648786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7jb9XdI/AAAAAAAAAFY/lrSUwKvLTDs/s320/Easter+09+073.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK so these uploaded backwards. So we are starting with Sunday morning. We were hunting for eggs. They were very excited to see their Easter baskets full of goodies, and to find the hidden eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7j9P8_I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/W5YFpUKuNR0/s1600-h/Easter+09+066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324218955002278898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7j9P8_I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/W5YFpUKuNR0/s320/Easter+09+066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7ZaSDPI/AAAAAAAAAFI/2SNPbnXXLZs/s1600-h/Easter+09+059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324218952171261170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7ZaSDPI/AAAAAAAAAFI/2SNPbnXXLZs/s320/Easter+09+059.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7O4SgBI/AAAAAAAAAFA/dbf6nl3yzcU/s1600-h/Easter+09+053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324218949344329746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7O4SgBI/AAAAAAAAAFA/dbf6nl3yzcU/s320/Easter+09+053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This was Saturday night dying our Easter eggs. Mommy might not be so good and patient as daddy is with this. The kids kept dropping the eggs in so hard and about half of our eggs had cracks in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs6xVrMEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/oJhQT1hYQLM/s1600-h/Easter+09+054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324218941414518850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs6xVrMEI/AAAAAAAAAE4/oJhQT1hYQLM/s320/Easter+09+054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvi7mWpI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dfoWV-CKFTg/s1600-h/Easter+09+047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324217649056864914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvi7mWpI/AAAAAAAAAEw/dfoWV-CKFTg/s320/Easter+09+047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvZbqOhI/AAAAAAAAAEo/UhLF-F3OzAU/s1600-h/Easter+09+045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324217646506981906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvZbqOhI/AAAAAAAAAEo/UhLF-F3OzAU/s320/Easter+09+045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvUPqVNI/AAAAAAAAAEg/sNEirFkLsdE/s1600-h/Easter+09+044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324217645114479826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvUPqVNI/AAAAAAAAAEg/sNEirFkLsdE/s320/Easter+09+044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You can see in the background of this picture that there is a rolling pin and cookie cutters, while we were waiting for daddy to come home from work I thought I would start rolling out the cookie dough, and let the kids use the cookie cutters. Again I say I am not so patient with this either, Aiden would push down the cutter and make big finger holes in the cookie, Erin as I will show you in a minute was busy playing in all of the flour. I hadn't realized how much flour she had used. So we quickly stopped that and went to the dying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvA0FW1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/CjQK-F0d5Y0/s1600-h/Easter+09+043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324217639898536786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNrvA0FW1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/CjQK-F0d5Y0/s320/Easter+09+043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is after I took her outside and brushed all the flour off of her clothes. I don't know if you can see her blue jeans but they have a slight faded look....that is flour.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNru87tf1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/BAjCtpi4WS4/s1600-h/Easter+09+040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324217638856785746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNru87tf1I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/BAjCtpi4WS4/s320/Easter+09+040.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is my moms dog Barnabas, who happened to be standing under Erins chair. He was covered in flour as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all was done, we did have a good time and the kids enjoyed coloring their eggs. I think daddy enjoyed it just as much. As for mommy, I will happily take the pictures and let daddy continue the tradition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-1335062524919481288?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/1335062524919481288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-events.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1335062524919481288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/1335062524919481288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-events.html' title='Easter Events'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNs7jb9XdI/AAAAAAAAAFY/lrSUwKvLTDs/s72-c/Easter+09+073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-9068772064598140838</id><published>2009-04-13T09:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T09:37:43.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Egg Hunt</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUwXtOrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/STmlexOib0E/s1600-h/Easter+09+028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213890273065650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUwXtOrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/STmlexOib0E/s320/Easter+09+028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;        These are the girls showing off their baskets full of eggs. Maddie hit the jack pot, she found a corner in the parking lot where a lot of eggs had rolled down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUrvSCEI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1KEtOzvRLTM/s1600-h/Easter+09+031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213889029769282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUrvSCEI/AAAAAAAAAEA/1KEtOzvRLTM/s320/Easter+09+031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;     This is Erin's basket, if you notice there are pennies and Hershey's kisses, All of the eggs she got either had pennies or Hershey's kisses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUUdKHkI/AAAAAAAAAD4/8asDVa0yd3g/s1600-h/Easter+09+032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213882779737666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUUdKHkI/AAAAAAAAAD4/8asDVa0yd3g/s320/Easter+09+032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Aiden peaking in his basket to see what he got. It was very cute. This is the first year he can actually enjoy the treats he got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUAjL2jI/AAAAAAAAADw/PkaWyeEl2Tc/s1600-h/Easter+09+020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213877436308018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUAjL2jI/AAAAAAAAADw/PkaWyeEl2Tc/s320/Easter+09+020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here they are on the hunt. We had a good time finding those eggs. Erin got a little too excited and tripped and fell on her basket. All of her eggs went rolling away but a nice little boy helped her pick them all up and put them back. I was very proud of her, she just let it roll off her shoulder and went back to hunting those eggs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoTZF6aBI/AAAAAAAAADo/D6KE7T1-Oxk/s1600-h/Easter+09+019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324213866844547090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoTZF6aBI/AAAAAAAAADo/D6KE7T1-Oxk/s320/Easter+09+019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well we had a very exciting day hunting eggs on Saturday, but for all of my Detroit friends. We did miss DFC just a little, but at least we didn't have to dig our eggs out of the snow this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-9068772064598140838?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/9068772064598140838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/egg-hunt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/9068772064598140838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/9068772064598140838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/egg-hunt.html' title='Egg Hunt'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SeNoUwXtOrI/AAAAAAAAAEI/STmlexOib0E/s72-c/Easter+09+028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4336394610977088323</id><published>2009-04-09T10:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-09T10:48:52.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Talking with God</title><content type='html'>It has been a while since I have posted and it's not for lack of stories. My children leave me with plenty of material every day. It's just by the end of the day I'm too tired to sit at the computer and blog about it. Today however I could not go another day and especially thought this is a story worth sharing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Erin Marie is a child who loves life. One of the things that I pray for both of my kids is that they would know God. Who he is and what he can do for them. I am learning every day that she may know more than I do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning I told the kids that we could probably go outside today. I usually wait until after lunch time because that is when it gets warmer. They both have the runny noses so I thought the warmer it is outside the better for all of us. So as it is getting closer to lunch it is starting to get gloomy outside and the sun disappears. I didn't say anything until after we had eaten lunch that we might not get to go outside because it looks like it's going to rain any minute. To this Erin runs to the back door looks outside and yells "NO GOD! I don't want it to rain! Please make it go away." After I chuckled to myself I tried to explain to Erin that it is ok if we have rain sometimes, because we need rain to make all the pretty flowers grow, the trees and the animals need it as well. I could tell she was thinking about this because she was quite for a few minutes. I thought that was the end so I went back to eating my lunch. As I was eating I noticed that she was still staring out the window and I hear her having this conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Ok God I guess it's ok if it rains. Mom says we need rain so you can make it rain if you want."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was some more whispering that I didn't understand and then she says "You will! Oh yea!!! That makes me happy. I want to give you a kiss God" So she puts her hand to her mouth and blows a kiss to heaven for God. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I have no idea what God told her but I'm not so convinced that she didn't hear something from him. I sometimes wonder if he talks to her because she is willing to listen. Oh to be a child again, or at least to have the heart of a child. There are days that she drives me crazy but one thing I do know is that she loves God with all of her heart. I pray that this love continues her whole life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322749213016798290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sd40NUZbNFI/AAAAAAAAADc/yyc5t0EQNUA/s320/April+09+234.JPG" border="0" /&gt;After the whole talking with God, Aiden came over and Erin was saying her night night prayers with Aiden. It was very cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4336394610977088323?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4336394610977088323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/talking-with-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4336394610977088323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4336394610977088323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/04/talking-with-god.html' title='Talking with God'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/Sd40NUZbNFI/AAAAAAAAADc/yyc5t0EQNUA/s72-c/April+09+234.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4066746335288303904</id><published>2009-03-24T07:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T07:47:40.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Backseat Stories</title><content type='html'>I know that I have lots of stories to tell about Erin but she doesn't really stop talking and Aiden well he's still working on trying to talk over his sister. I'm sure soon enough I will have stories to tell about Aiden.&lt;br /&gt;So I have a small job of picking up some kids after they get out of school and watching them until one of their parents gets home. It really is the best job in the world. Not hard work at all. So when we are in the car waiting for the kids to come out Erin is always talking about something in the backseat. So I will try to remember some of these as she tells them and try to post them right away.&lt;br /&gt;This was yesterdays story:&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Mom I want to read you this letter I wrote.&lt;br /&gt;Me: ok Erin I'm listening.&lt;br /&gt;Erin: Dear Aunt Leah,&lt;br /&gt;           Can you come here? Bring Maddie too!&lt;br /&gt;                Love,&lt;br /&gt;                   Erin&lt;br /&gt;I thought this was very sweet and told her what a nice letter that was. Then it suddenly dawned on me. How in the world does this girl know what a letter sounds like? I am pretty sure that she is already smarter than me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4066746335288303904?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4066746335288303904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/backseat-stories.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4066746335288303904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4066746335288303904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/backseat-stories.html' title='Backseat Stories'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5405387433524823531</id><published>2009-03-23T08:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T09:03:07.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aiden's 2!!</title><content type='html'>My Aiden boy turned 2 on March 16. Here are some pictures of our family celebration&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyS6brB4I/AAAAAAAAADU/bWMUhd4mPvQ/s1600-h/March+09+147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316413923126871938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyS6brB4I/AAAAAAAAADU/bWMUhd4mPvQ/s320/March+09+147.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceySWO4eRI/AAAAAAAAADM/udROVP00E80/s1600-h/March+09+145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316413913409550610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceySWO4eRI/AAAAAAAAADM/udROVP00E80/s320/March+09+145.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyR-MOZSI/AAAAAAAAADE/IpMsXpTaYXE/s1600-h/March+09+142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316413906955953442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyR-MOZSI/AAAAAAAAADE/IpMsXpTaYXE/s320/March+09+142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyRc4I7zI/AAAAAAAAAC8/XSoeggFyPPs/s1600-h/March+09+134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316413898013339442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyRc4I7zI/AAAAAAAAAC8/XSoeggFyPPs/s320/March+09+134.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyQd3K8ZI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zv5d0TvG8q4/s1600-h/March+09+131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316413881097843090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyQd3K8ZI/AAAAAAAAAC0/zv5d0TvG8q4/s320/March+09+131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5405387433524823531?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5405387433524823531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/aidens-2.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5405387433524823531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5405387433524823531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/aidens-2.html' title='Aiden&apos;s 2!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SceyS6brB4I/AAAAAAAAADU/bWMUhd4mPvQ/s72-c/March+09+147.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-835192133046311591</id><published>2009-03-23T08:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T07:41:23.989-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons</title><content type='html'>Life is full of ups and downs and I don't know why I am always &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;surprised&lt;/span&gt; when either happens. Eric and I had a little disappointment this weekend, we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; an email from the church we were looking at saying that we did not make the list to come for a second interview. I do believe that God is in control and this was not the place for us. It still hurts, we felt rejected. Friday was not a good day, and I feel that my kids suffered a little because of me. I was letting my hurt feelings and frustrations out on my kids. I realize now that this was silly and that I should be rejoicing in the fact that God has something better for us. I have had to apologize to my kids more than I care to remember for my short fuse. After reading my bible this morning and doing my devotions I realized that I do not want to be the kind of person that lets disappointments take over my emotions. As I watch my kids through out the day and see how they respond to situations I find myself wanting to be more like them. They experience little disappointments everyday, like having a toy taken away, or not getting to play with a certain friend that day, or having to share with the other &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sibling&lt;/span&gt;. They may cry for a short time, but it doesn't take long for them to pick themselves up and move on to something else. So that is what I am going to do, I'm going to pick myself up shake off the dust and move on. I am not going to dwell in the past. God has something bigger and better for us. I am going to continue to be the woman God has called me to be.&lt;br /&gt;This is the verse I read this morning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See,I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;Isaiah 43:18-19&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is making a way for Eric and I.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-835192133046311591?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/835192133046311591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/lessons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/835192133046311591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/835192133046311591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/lessons.html' title='Lessons'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-9019505859204403768</id><published>2009-03-12T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T14:39:56.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Praise the Lord!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmAMLvk6HI/AAAAAAAAACs/rTvfKDPIHmE/s1600-h/March+09+088.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312418182259337330" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmAMLvk6HI/AAAAAAAAACs/rTvfKDPIHmE/s320/March+09+088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmAL3l9SjI/AAAAAAAAACk/s2xcIAJwCNk/s1600-h/March+09+079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312418176850283058" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmAL3l9SjI/AAAAAAAAACk/s2xcIAJwCNk/s320/March+09+079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmALY8AqhI/AAAAAAAAACc/0j8XvLqC3sU/s1600-h/March+09+078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312418168621279762" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmALY8AqhI/AAAAAAAAACc/0j8XvLqC3sU/s320/March+09+078.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmALCkn5jI/AAAAAAAAACU/HSgsBCLCtpU/s1600-h/March+09+067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312418162617607730" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmALCkn5jI/AAAAAAAAACU/HSgsBCLCtpU/s320/March+09+067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well I had been told that this day would come although I had my doubts. You see I have this very stubborn little girl who had me convinced that she would stay in diapers the rest of her life. She is the kind of kid that will only do things if she comes up with the idea. She is only &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;interested&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doing&lt;/span&gt; things the way she wants to. So when it came time to potty training she did not want to have anything to do with this. Now while most kids try to mimic their friends, Erin was perfectly happy knowing that other kids used the potty and not her. She has two cousins that are within days and months of her and they are both potty trained and have been for some time. Now normally I don't believe that we should try to be exactly like someone else, but in this case I'm all for it. Unfortunately she was not bothered at all that Maddie and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Kenedee&lt;/span&gt; both use the potty. In fact she would even rejoice with Maddie when she would use the potty, but when asked if she would like to try the answer was always a loud "NO!" as she runs away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the day is finally here and all it took was a little bribery. Well that and I think she was a little bothered that her younger brother is pretty excited about the potty. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; has started to show interest in using the potty so I figured I could use this to my advantage. Every time he would sit on the potty I would give him some M&amp;amp;Ms and would also make sure it was right in front of her. Cruel I know, but I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;desperate&lt;/span&gt; and it worked. So she saw that he didn't have to actually go in the potty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;in order&lt;/span&gt; to get some candy. So she started sitting on the potty and getting her M&amp;amp;M's. After a few times I changed the rules to she actually had to go pee pee &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;in order&lt;/span&gt; to get the candy. I was afraid that this could cause some trouble but she has been willing. We are on day four and have had great success. She has only had two accidents and is now wearing big girl panties! I am so proud of her and her eyes absolutely light up with excitement &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; she goes now. Thank you Jesus!! I am so excited I'm not sure who gets more joy out of this Erin or me. Either way it's been a great week for us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-9019505859204403768?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/9019505859204403768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/praise-lord.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/9019505859204403768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/9019505859204403768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/praise-lord.html' title='Praise the Lord!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbmAMLvk6HI/AAAAAAAAACs/rTvfKDPIHmE/s72-c/March+09+088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5861064866352306017</id><published>2009-03-09T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T19:44:27.049-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rules by Erin Marie</title><content type='html'>As we were eating our lunch on sunday afternoon, my mom was talking to Erin trying to get her to eat her lunch when she gave us yet another rule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;Rule # 2 : We don't talk while eating our food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;She was a little tired and crabby and was not interested in eating anything we had for lunch that day. So she finally got fed up with my mom trying to talk her into eating her food. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5861064866352306017?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5861064866352306017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/rules-by-erin-marie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5861064866352306017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5861064866352306017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/rules-by-erin-marie.html' title='Rules by Erin Marie'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-2620679369492279327</id><published>2009-03-06T11:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T11:43:58.673-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rules by Erin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbF81QM0rzI/AAAAAAAAACM/rBgs85z_Jqc/s1600-h/Jan.-feb.+09+044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310162689970188082" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbF81QM0rzI/AAAAAAAAACM/rBgs85z_Jqc/s320/Jan.-feb.+09+044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday morning Erin, Aiden and I were doing a little coloring. One of my favorite activities to do with them. I think I actually enjoy it more than they do. So while we were coloring I broke out into a song. (which I often do because Erin and Aiden really don't know that I can't really sing yet.) Normally Erin jumps right in and sings along, but not this time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Rule number 1: We don't sing while coloring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get these rules every once in a while from her so I figured I would share them as she shares them with me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-2620679369492279327?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/2620679369492279327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/rules-by-erin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2620679369492279327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2620679369492279327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/rules-by-erin.html' title='Rules by Erin'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SbF81QM0rzI/AAAAAAAAACM/rBgs85z_Jqc/s72-c/Jan.-feb.+09+044.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-4925261022182201265</id><published>2009-03-03T14:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T14:53:53.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Morning!</title><content type='html'>I have to start this explaining that Erin is always up before I am. She is so sneaky and quiet that I can never hear her on the monitor. So most mornings I wake up to a little pat on my hand and open my eyes to this cute little smiling face staring back at me.&lt;br /&gt;This morning was a little bit different. She came in very quietly, I didn't hear her. So she tiptoes up to me pats my hand, startles me awake and before I can say anything she says. "um....mom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; took his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; off and my diaper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;broked&lt;/span&gt; and is falling off and has poop in it." She said this all in one breath. I wasn't so concerned about the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; taking his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; off, because that is starting to become a habit for him, it was the part about the broken diaper and poop that concerned me. So I decided I better get moving before I have a huge mess to clean up if I don't already. Sure enough her diaper had broken but it was only wet. Thank goodness. She is a funny girl and of course I go to get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; and he is down to his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;onesie&lt;/span&gt;. At least he hasn't figured out how to get the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;onesie&lt;/span&gt; off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-4925261022182201265?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/4925261022182201265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-morning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4925261022182201265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/4925261022182201265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/good-morning.html' title='Good Morning!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-8985533988932031960</id><published>2009-03-03T14:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T14:38:30.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting Patiently....or not</title><content type='html'>Eric and I are ready to go back into the ministry. We are feeling the urge from God and have learned some good life lessons in the last seven months. We are both excited for what God might have in store for us. I am not as patient as Eric so there are many moments when Eric has to settle me down and remind me that we are not the ones in charge. &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday Eric and I were finally able to meet with the pastor of a church looking for a youth pastor. After two meetings that were set up and canceled I was becoming very anxious about this meeting. I often wondered what is God trying to teach us through all of this. Why do these meetings keep getting pushed back. When we finally got to this last meeting I knew that nothing was going to get in the way. I felt like God was saying to me "Remember Angela I am in charge not you, it will be in my time not yours." I knew that this was the right time for us to meet with him. The meeting went great. We were very honest with him and he with us. I felt so comfortable with him. I did however forget how old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; was....a little embarrassing when you can't remember that your son is going to be two and not four. Not sure where my brain was on that, but then again the brain seems to disappear a lot these days. Anyway the meeting went well and now we begin our wait....again. We are still one of a few candidates that I'm sure are just as qualified if not more than Eric and I are.&lt;br /&gt;I am not so good at this waiting thing. I want this to be all in Gods timing and His will, but I am still struggling with my own anxieties about it. I know that whatever happens God is in control. Why is it so hard to be patient? I guess I am asking for some prayer in all of this. I am excited about being in the ministry again, I miss it. I feel like Eric and I are in a good place and have a lot more to give. So if you could.....say a little prayer for us. Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-8985533988932031960?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/8985533988932031960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-patientlyor-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8985533988932031960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/8985533988932031960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/03/waiting-patientlyor-not.html' title='Waiting Patiently....or not'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-2296467011368258645</id><published>2009-02-26T13:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T14:10:46.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>At least she's honest!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SacTO0XSm1I/AAAAAAAAACE/ouGgHPCgQkc/s1600-h/Jan.-feb.+09+068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307231831174847314" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SacTO0XSm1I/AAAAAAAAACE/ouGgHPCgQkc/s320/Jan.-feb.+09+068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this morning Eric and I were sitting at the kitchen table and heard yet another scuffle between Erin and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;. They were again fighting over a particular toy that they both need. Of course she was sure to use the word "need" as if that would make me give it to her over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;. The truth is that they both have toys that they seem to be attached to. Erin likes her little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Disney&lt;/span&gt; princess dolls and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; loves his Cars as in the movie "Cars" cars. Erin thinks that because the car named Sally is a girl that it is her car, yet every day we tell her it's actually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Aidens&lt;/span&gt; car he is just being very nice and sharing it with you, but there are days like today when he chooses not to share. Now while I completely believe that they should share their toys I do think that it is nice for them to have some toys that they don't have to share if they don't want to. For &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; it's the cars and Erin it's the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Disney&lt;/span&gt; princess dolls (which for those of you who are curious &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;aiden&lt;/span&gt; has not yet shown any interest in so there isn't usually fighting over those toys) So on with the story, they were fighting over sally. Eric and I were both trying to explain the concept of sharing to Erin. We were explaining to her again that it is nice when we share our toys with others, but if she is not willing to share her things with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; then she should not expect &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; to share his toys with her. As she was contemplating all of this in her head she looked at us and said "...but I get a little crabby when I have to share with my friends." Now a good parent would have said something like "yes that is true but we still have to share because it's the right thing to do." I on the other hand could not control my laughter I didn't even have time to turn my back to her I just busted out laughing. Eric was quick to point out that this was probably not the correct response. It was just so funny how quickly she blurted that out of her mouth. So to this I say "At least she is honest." Obviously we still have some work in the sharing department.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-2296467011368258645?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/2296467011368258645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/at-least-shes-honest.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2296467011368258645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2296467011368258645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/at-least-shes-honest.html' title='At least she&apos;s honest!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SacTO0XSm1I/AAAAAAAAACE/ouGgHPCgQkc/s72-c/Jan.-feb.+09+068.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5155346218782046285</id><published>2009-02-26T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T11:42:27.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lent</title><content type='html'>I have normally not really participated in Lent. There would be discussion on it in the church and in my house but I never really felt the need to participate. I guess I just assumed it was more of a catholic tradition and I didn't really need to do it to prove I was a christian. In all honesty I don't think I really understood the meaning.&lt;br /&gt;I have been faced with many difficult situations in my life and every time God has seen me through them. In the last seven months I have been taught some very valuable lessons. Ones that I would rather not have had to learn. I am understanding more about who God wants me to be as a wife and a mother. He is teaching me patience in a way that I will never forget. I have learned what it means to be humbled. I have also learned the power of forgiving and how relationships can be repaired. God has been so good to me and I have not been who he has asked me to be. It laugh now looking back at the signs and situations that God had placed before me to show me who he wanted me to be, but instead I ignored and tried to do things my own way. Why do we have to be so stubborn? I am sure that there will be more lessons to learn in my life and some may have to be repeated....just like children. (as a matter of fact I just had to stop my writing to teach yet another lesson on sharing...to Erin and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;So after all of that I have decided that this is a good year for me to start celebrating Lent. I wanted to give something up that would be noticeable for me. Something that wouldn't be so easy to do. I sure picked a good one. It may not be a struggle for some people but it is for me. I have an addiction to Soda. I have at least one a day sometimes two. It is an energy boost for me. I crave that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;caffeine&lt;/span&gt;. I started yesterday and it was the most miserable day I have had in a long time. My head started to hurt around lunch time and did not go away until I fell asleep that night. I was so glad that Eric was off yesterday because not only did he help with the kids but he helped me fight the urge to give in to a soda. It really is funny when I think about it. All day long I was trying to rationalize in my head that it would be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; for me to drink one, that giving up soda may not have been a good idea. I even started to think....what if I just have one more today and then start tomorrow. I was getting desperate. At the end of the day I knew I had chosen the right thing to give up because it something I think I need but don't at all. It will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; be a way for me to rely on God to get me through the days. It may sound silly to some, but it is going to be hard for me. To quote blog I read this morning "...this is the least I can do compared to what he has done for me. " (Thanks for the reminder Heather)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5155346218782046285?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5155346218782046285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/lent.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5155346218782046285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5155346218782046285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/lent.html' title='Lent'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-932702810644485722</id><published>2009-02-24T13:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:44:11.737-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Being a Mom</title><content type='html'>I remember as a teenager how exciting it was for me to babysit. I absolutely loved to be around kids. I would always think about what it would be like to have kids of my own someday. I was definitely naive when it came to what it would be like to be a mother. It's a lot harder than I imagined.&lt;br /&gt; Well that day is here and there are times when I feel so overwhelmed that I don't know what to do with myself or my kids. There are times when I feel so inadequate as a mother. I constantly look at other moms and think "boy they have it together, a lot better than I do". I often wonder if I'm doing a good job with discipline or if I am too impatient with them. I think that I'm not as consistent as I should be with them. I wonder if I need to plan more activities with them, do more art projects with them, should I be teaching them more than I am. All questions that may never have a right answer.&lt;br /&gt;Then there are moments like these:&lt;br /&gt; Erin puts her hands on my face and says " I love you mom"&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; calls out "momma momma where are you?" and comes running when he sees me.&lt;br /&gt; Erin helps &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; eat some jello, he can't get it on the spoon so she feeds it to him.&lt;br /&gt; The excitement in both of their eyes when it's time to do our devotion at night.&lt;br /&gt; The way &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Aiden&lt;/span&gt; loves to pray so much that he jumps up and down in his bed yelling "Amen"&lt;br /&gt; Hearing Erin pray: "Thank you for all my family, Thank you for all my friends, Thank you for the rain."&lt;br /&gt; These are the signs God gives me to let me know I'm not doing so bad. What a blessing my kids have been in my life. I may not do things right all the time but my God is watching over me and watching over my kids and that gives me the comfort I need to get through the days when I feel inadequate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-932702810644485722?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/932702810644485722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/being-mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/932702810644485722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/932702810644485722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/being-mom.html' title='Being a Mom'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-7536753607261585760</id><published>2009-02-24T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T13:13:04.094-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>We didn't really do too much for this day because Eric and I are trying to save some money and Eric had to work most of the day. So Erin and I made some valentine's day cookies. We made hearts, lips and flowers. The lips were our favorite ones to make. For lunch I made the kids peanut butter heart sandwiches. They weren't as excited as I was about them. We also made cards for daddy but for some reason I didn't take pictures. They turned out pretty cute though. I love to see how Erin draws herself bigger than everyone else. We had a fun day but we were very happy to see Eric when he came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhutrOE1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/fsof4gFJDKw/s1600-h/feb09+072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306473716112036690" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhutrOE1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/fsof4gFJDKw/s320/feb09+072.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhulM5AAI/AAAAAAAAABs/k_e6WWWcHsQ/s1600-h/feb09+068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306473713837342722" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhulM5AAI/AAAAAAAAABs/k_e6WWWcHsQ/s320/feb09+068.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhuWeLEVI/AAAAAAAAABk/tq7KCrK-BjM/s1600-h/feb09+064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306473709883298130" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhuWeLEVI/AAAAAAAAABk/tq7KCrK-BjM/s320/feb09+064.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhuCThP4I/AAAAAAAAABc/B7QzT75JPoI/s1600-h/feb09+062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306473704469905282" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhuCThP4I/AAAAAAAAABc/B7QzT75JPoI/s320/feb09+062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-7536753607261585760?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/7536753607261585760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7536753607261585760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/7536753607261585760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SaRhutrOE1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/fsof4gFJDKw/s72-c/feb09+072.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-2692707618729751544</id><published>2009-02-16T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T13:31:30.333-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Haircuts</title><content type='html'>Last monday Eric had the day off so I decided I would make an appointment for the kids and I to get our hair cut. I have not had a hair cut in about six months so it was definately time. We are very blessed and have a neighbor that is a hair dresser. She is wonderful and cuts the kids hair for free and mine at a very generous discount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Erin enjoys getting her hair cut, she is definately my daughter because we both have better attitudes after we get our hair done. She will pretend to be Holly (the hairdresser) and fixes is anyones hair that will let her. Aiden also enjoys a nice hair cut. He sits in my lap very still while she cuts his hair and smiles when she uses the buzzer on his neck. It is a very fun thing. Here are the kids after their lovely haircuts. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303507250822544034" style="WIDTH: 1px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 5px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZnXvtT8eqI/AAAAAAAAABU/BhRC8mucOg8/s320/feb09+027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303507245563246626" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZnXvZuB-CI/AAAAAAAAABE/2hCHmjmpieQ/s320/feb09+023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZnXvhqFVCI/AAAAAAAAABM/XPy8aInUt4k/s1600-h/feb09+026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303507247694173218" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZnXvhqFVCI/AAAAAAAAABM/XPy8aInUt4k/s320/feb09+026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had such a nice day together as a family. Daddy let mommy get her hair done. It was so nice. Sorry no pictures of that sorry. I didn't get a picture of my hair after it was done. I was able to have it colored and highlighted. It was about an hour and a half for me to get my hair done. I am so blessed to have a husband that spent his day off keeping our two children occupied in the car and outside while I got my hair done. It was a wonderful day and the kids were so good for Eric. I think he enjoyed the time with them too. It really is true that getting your hair done makes you feel good! There were no tears that day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-2692707618729751544?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/2692707618729751544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/haircuts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2692707618729751544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2692707618729751544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/haircuts.html' title='Haircuts'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZnXvtT8eqI/AAAAAAAAABU/BhRC8mucOg8/s72-c/feb09+027.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-5597697297187231873</id><published>2009-02-10T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T14:50:42.352-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bed Time for Erin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZIEmqhGxiI/AAAAAAAAAA0/pUedpNHa4os/s1600-h/Erin+and+Aiden+again+133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301304773663180322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZIEmqhGxiI/AAAAAAAAAA0/pUedpNHa4os/s320/Erin+and+Aiden+again+133.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZIEmQzUlFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_bR87LV1m14/s1600-h/Erin+and+Aiden+again+131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301304766760260690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZIEmQzUlFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/_bR87LV1m14/s320/Erin+and+Aiden+again+131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So at night I have tried to have some sort of regular ritual for the kids. It is especially nice when Eric is home and we do it together. So we start off doing our devotion or comotion as Erin likes to call it. (She makes us all laugh at what she calls things.)Anyway we do our devotion and she repeats the bible verse after me. Very sweet to hear your baby recite the bible. Then it comes to prayer time. She worries me a little because when it comes time to praying she seems to always be wiggling, talking,and eyes open. Maybe that is why she calls it comotion time. Who knows at least Aiden enjoys praying. He screams at me "Pay! Pay!" it is very precious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we do our devotion we read a story and lately I have been reading "Bed Time for Francis". Which could really be named "Bed Time for Erin". If you know my Erin you know that bed time is always an experience. She is constantly getting up and requesting thins from me. One time she got up and I met her at the door she was caught so off guard that she was talking very slowly in order to try to think of something to ask for. She said "I...........I.......forgot to.......I need.........Um.....I just......need....." after that I stopped her and sent her back to bed. Anyway she is just like Francis in the book. So as we were reading one night I stopped and said "Erin who does this sound like?" she looked at me with big brown eyes and a cute smile and said "Me!" I told her she was right so we finished the book, I tucked her in, gave her a hug and a kiss and she looked at Eric and I and said. "Good night Mother. Good night Father" so I said "Good night Francis." I love her little mind and how it works. She is full of life and a huge imagination. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-5597697297187231873?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/5597697297187231873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/bed-time-for-erin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5597697297187231873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/5597697297187231873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/bed-time-for-erin.html' title='Bed Time for Erin'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SZIEmqhGxiI/AAAAAAAAAA0/pUedpNHa4os/s72-c/Erin+and+Aiden+again+133.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-6976779104909077484</id><published>2009-02-06T13:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-06T14:00:35.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Glasses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SYyyaC5VdOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/PFL_Ej544JU/s1600-h/Jan.-feb.+09+038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299807022031926498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SYyyaC5VdOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/PFL_Ej544JU/s320/Jan.-feb.+09+038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SYyx1jodBrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/FjbHg4bIQiU/s1600-h/Jan.-feb.+09+029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299806395164329650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SYyx1jodBrI/AAAAAAAAAAc/FjbHg4bIQiU/s320/Jan.-feb.+09+029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These non-prescription glasses had been left at Erics work for a while. He decided to wear them one day at work and see what people said. Nobody said a word. It was rather funny. So he brought them home and Erin and I had a good laugh at how cute Aiden was in these glasses. Erin was also very cute in them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-6976779104909077484?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/6976779104909077484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/funny-glasses.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6976779104909077484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/6976779104909077484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/funny-glasses.html' title='Funny Glasses'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_kqI6ttOLLBQ/SYyyaC5VdOI/AAAAAAAAAAk/PFL_Ej544JU/s72-c/Jan.-feb.+09+038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-2367404520361085213</id><published>2009-02-04T14:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:56:44.108-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A story about Erin</title><content type='html'>Erin Marie is quite a girl. She is full of life and is always up for a long, long, long conversation about anything and everything. She is a very opinionated child and refuses to believe any other opinion. For example I am trying to get her to start potty training. We talk about sitting on he potty all day. This is how one of our conversations went:&lt;br /&gt;       Me: (after changing her diaper for the third time in  an hour due to some constipation issues)&lt;br /&gt;               Erin did you know that if you sat on the potty mommy wouldn't have to change your diaper anymore. You could just pull your underwear off and on all by yourself.&lt;br /&gt;      Erin: (looking at me with a very serious face. Mouth all crooked and eyebrows burrowed)&lt;br /&gt;               Mmmmm......that's not a good idea mom!&lt;br /&gt;and so that was the end of that conversation.&lt;br /&gt;Another conversation with her about the potty whent something like this:&lt;br /&gt;      Me: Erin did you know that your cousins Maddie and Kenedee are the same age as you?&lt;br /&gt;     Erin: They are!&lt;br /&gt;      Me: Yes they are, and actually you are just a little bit older than both of them.&lt;br /&gt;     Erin: I am!&lt;br /&gt;      Me: Yes you are, and did you know that they both sit on the potty like big girls.&lt;br /&gt;     Erin: I need to get bigger mom.&lt;br /&gt;She is a very busy girl and it doesn't bother her one bit that other kids her age are using the potty. She makes me laugh every day and I love everything about her. If only I could see things as she does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-2367404520361085213?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/2367404520361085213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/story-about-erin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2367404520361085213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/2367404520361085213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/story-about-erin.html' title='A story about Erin'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9166172758048451672.post-3442858200449212098</id><published>2009-02-04T14:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T14:43:32.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New to me</title><content type='html'>Ok so this whole blogging thing is new to me so I'm going to do my best to make this a worth while blog. The little cutie in my title picture is my boy Aiden and his big brown eyes. I thought it was a good picture for my title. My girl has the same big brown eyes, but I liked this picture the best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9166172758048451672-3442858200449212098?l=angelaskelton.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/feeds/3442858200449212098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-to-me.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3442858200449212098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9166172758048451672/posts/default/3442858200449212098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angelaskelton.blogspot.com/2009/02/new-to-me.html' title='New to me'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04389026378297449021</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
