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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/rss2full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Sat, 11 Jul 2009 02:16:21 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>BECAUSE I SAID SO</title><description /><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>628</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/dNXZ" type="application/rss+xml" /><feedburner:emailServiceId xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">blogspot/dNXZ</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0">http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-1550824971789904138</guid><pubDate>Fri, 10 Jul 2009 03:49:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-09T23:13:08.526-05:00</atom:updated><title>Some pics</title><description>I was clearing my memory card from my camera and my phone and found a couple pictures I'd like to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9vTzcocI/AAAAAAAAGBw/Dx-eDxvk10I/s1600-h/028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356677427271344578" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9vTzcocI/AAAAAAAAGBw/Dx-eDxvk10I/s320/028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool, huh?  I managed to catch this rainbow on my camera phone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9vCA51LI/AAAAAAAAGBo/fvdioiLK0lc/s1600-h/175.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356677422495945906" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9vCA51LI/AAAAAAAAGBo/fvdioiLK0lc/s320/175.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what a hotdog looks like after it has sat in your son's room for a &lt;del&gt;decade&lt;/del&gt; couple weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9u5qhE-I/AAAAAAAAGBg/bGb9l5ptkbw/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356677420254565346" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9u5qhE-I/AAAAAAAAGBg/bGb9l5ptkbw/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey Mom!  Look!  We made dinner!  Mud pies!  Where did we get the mud?  Oh, we just dug up the flowers, Mom.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla7D6W4_cI/AAAAAAAAGBY/D69OISlE13M/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356674482683051458" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla7D6W4_cI/AAAAAAAAGBY/D69OISlE13M/s320/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even in these trying economic times, air is still free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla7DTcUM-I/AAAAAAAAGBQ/qqNZF7YtmDA/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356674472236823522" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla7DTcUM-I/AAAAAAAAGBQ/qqNZF7YtmDA/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dictionary entry: Redundant&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla7Cv7vkmI/AAAAAAAAGBI/LWbAg_qQ_1o/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356674462704964194" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla7Cv7vkmI/AAAAAAAAGBI/LWbAg_qQ_1o/s320/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As lovely as that is, it's not really fishing, Jackson, if you just stab an already dead fish with a stick.&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/4732255176396931795-1550824971789904138?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/07/some-pics.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sla9vTzcocI/AAAAAAAAGBw/Dx-eDxvk10I/s72-c/028.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-8482847345947677736</guid><pubDate>Wed, 08 Jul 2009 01:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-07T22:29:00.089-05:00</atom:updated><title>Tuesday Sound Out</title><description>Yeah, yeah, better late than never, right? I've been so busy. It's hard being a stay-at-home mom in the summer. I mean, I have to get up at 10:00, put sunscreen on 6 kids, make a cup of coffee, drive a whole 5 blocks to the pool, and lie around for hours on the lazy river. When am I supposed to find time to blog in all that??? Without further ado, here's my sound out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;what's a tooth go for these days??? I'm sure you've spent tons of money on teeth with 6 kids. lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, in these here parts, teeth go for $1.00. Unless, of course, the tooth fairy forgets to make an appearance and has to leave a $2.00 guilt offering the next night. And when the tooth fairy forgets 2 or more nights in a row...well, let's just say I'm still paying off &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; loan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok, I need some tooth advice (although is Lex destined for braces with a tooth growing in behind or does it move on its own or?...): Mister Man has his very first loose tooth. How long before it comes out? What do I do to ummm encourage him? How long before the next tooth comes in to replace it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I bet few of you know that I'm not just a mom, but I'm actually a dentist in my free time.&lt;br /&gt;Ummm, Lexi's teeth will hopefully all move and line up nicely. If not, I'll have to take her on the road as "The Amazing Shark Girl" because Savannah already used all our orthodontic insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You may have mentioned this on your website before, but I flipped open my Parenting (School Years) magazine and saw your face and name on the GoodNites advertisement for their new LiteNights campaign. I'll have to check out that site to read more about it (it's an issue 2 of my kids struggle with). You don't have to name names, but have any of your kids had night-time issues with staying dry??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Absolutely! We had nighttime wetting here for a looooong time and just recently, Clay has been having issues with occasional wetting after being completely dry at night for well over a year. The GoodNites NiteLite Panel has been talking about bedtime routines and things you can do to enjoy some special bonding time with your child before bedtime. If you want to join the conversation about bedwetting and things you can do to ensure your child has a good night, come visit the Special Bedtime Moments page on Gather.com &lt;a href="http://bedtimemoments.gather.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I haven't been to your site in forever (it's the ADD in me), but a friend recently loaned me her copy of your book, so I'm visiting and laughing.&lt;br /&gt;If I send the book to you with a SASE with my friend's return address on it, would that just be crazy? It's not signed, but she loves your site and your book. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, I've had several readers send me their books to be signed. :) If you sent me, say, a rubber chicken, &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; would be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PS- did you get a new couch? I like it! (ok- I know, I really don't know you since I've only been reading your blog since "the" Ebay auction- but I just thought you had a beige couch- sorry if this sounds too stalker-like!)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL! It always amazes me how closely you guys pay attention to details! I'll have to keep that in mind should I ever need to dispose of the &lt;del&gt;evidence&lt;/del&gt; couches.&lt;br /&gt;The couches are the same, but I do have different slipcovers on them. They used to be tan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gotta love it when you find something that knocks them out :) Do you want me to tell you what time my wee ones are asleep each night? ;) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go ahead. Want me to tell you how late mine sleep each morning? ;)&lt;br /&gt;(I'm a night person, remember?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Gorgeous pic! I have one of my daughter on her back fast asleep with her legs UP against the wall pointing outwards.&lt;br /&gt;How do they DO it?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have no idea. Lex is especially good at dong stupid human tricks with her legs...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SlQRdXc2pKI/AAAAAAAAGBA/5_FGJPHORkw/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355925053059277986" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SlQRdXc2pKI/AAAAAAAAGBA/5_FGJPHORkw/s320/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why would you need California pizza when you have perfectly good Chicago pizza?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, right?! I have this debate often with my friend Denise, who lives on Long Island. I finally sent her some Lou's one day so she could see for herself how awesome Chicago pizza is. She called me up and asked, "Why did you send me a casserole?" She called Lou's pizza a CASSEROLE! :::shaking head:::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SSO: I have a 6 &amp;amp; 5 yo and it really bothers me that a lot of older kids(and a lot of adults too) now a days have no respect when adults and little kids are around and they are always cursing. I usually get up and leave with my kids but I'm sick of it. What do you usually do in these situations?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just say, "Do you &amp;amp;$#* mind??? There are little kids here! Now shut the *&amp;amp;^#$*&amp;amp;# up!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So has Savannah always liked shopping with you? If not when did it start?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Savannah has always liked shopping with me. In fact, I think everyone but Austin likes shopping with me. When Austin goes with me, to liven things up, we just try to out-embarrass each other. I'll hold up a pink dress and say loudly, "Austin, I'm not going to buy you this. Everyone will make fun of you if you wear this to school. Can you just pick out some boy clothes, please?!" He'll wave and say, "Hi!" loudly to everyone we pass. And we don't live in the south where people do that sort of thing. He just gets stares and looks of pity from the passersby.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No comment on the loud music in Hollister? The one here in Georgia that my daughters feel they "have to go to" plays music SOOOO loud that I can't hear a word they say for the next 2 weeks! It's horrible!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, I guess I left that out, didn't I? The part where I said, "Can you tell me if you have this in a large? What? What?? WHAT DID YOU SAY???"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh, this IS a large? Where's the rest of it?" I eyed the shirt and decided that I must be in the toddler section.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I walked over to the next rack and pick up a cute headband. I slipped it over my hair and smiled at Savannah who rolled her eyes and told me to take the bikini off my head. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"The bikinwhat? This headband is a &lt;em&gt;bathing suit&lt;/em&gt;?!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Click on over to my review blog for your chance to win waterproof Band-Aids and new Neo To Go portable antibiotic spray &lt;a href="http://dawnmeehan.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-am-stuck-on-band-aid.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-8482847345947677736?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/07/tuesday-sound-out.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SlQRdXc2pKI/AAAAAAAAGBA/5_FGJPHORkw/s72-c/008.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">11</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-2875889146139738144</guid><pubDate>Mon, 06 Jul 2009 23:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-06T20:16:15.862-05:00</atom:updated><title>Shopping with Savannah</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I went shopping with Savannah the other day. We went to a really big mall out in the suburbs of Chicago. With almost 300 stores, we were sure we'd be able to find some things that met our criteria -&lt;br /&gt;A. that fit&lt;br /&gt;B. that didn't require a second mortgage to afford them&lt;br /&gt;C. that were "cool"&lt;br /&gt;D. that weren't slutty &lt;em&gt;(my criteria)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, let me say that I love shopping with Savannah. I really do. And I think she likes shopping with me too. Then again, Savannah's a smart kid. She knows if she goes with me, I'll buy her clothes and really, what's not to like about that. Hmmm, well, she may complain to her friends about how lame I am, but at least she pretends to enjoy shopping with me while we're out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went to the mega-mall to look for a couple dresses that would be appropriate for church or other occasions that would require something nicer than flip flops and tank tops. Thankfully Savannah isn't big on name brands. She likes to look in Abercrombie (which is pronounced Abercrombie, not AMbercrombie. Get it right, people! If you can't say the name of the store, you shouldn't be shopping there. Just sayin'...) Anyway, she likes to look in the fancy schmancy, where-the-cool-kids shop kinda stores, but she's just as happy with a shirt from JCPenney or Target, thankfully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started our excursion at JCPenney where we found &lt;del&gt;several&lt;/del&gt; &lt;del&gt;a few&lt;/del&gt; one dress that didn't expose too much boobage. And it was on sale too! Score! Mission accomplished in my book. But we headed out into the mall to window shop and &lt;del&gt;look for a shirt for me that &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; show too much boobage and talk about boys&lt;/del&gt; get some lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we passed a store called Hollister, Savannah asked, "Can we go in here and look?"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure!" I answered good-naturedly. I was enjoying my time with Savannah and wasn't ready to head home quite yet. I looked at the store and realized it wasn't a store at all! It was club. I was pretty sure it was some sort of nightclub. Do you have these stores by you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SlKSNz-nq0I/AAAAAAAAGAw/ghUvTgQBMF8/s1600-h/Hollister.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355503672885750594" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SlKSNz-nq0I/AAAAAAAAGAw/ghUvTgQBMF8/s320/Hollister.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear I couldn't figure out how to get in. There was a door, but the entrance was completely blocked with a rack of clothes. Hmmm, maybe if I step up onto the this porch-like area? Nope, that's just a window. Hmmm, really where's the door? Well here's the deal folks, if you can't figure out where the door to a store is and you feel the need to ask the &lt;del&gt;bouncer&lt;/del&gt; salesclerk how to get in, YOU ARE TOO OLD TO BE SHOPPING IN THAT STORE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savannah rolled her eyes at me, took my hand and dragged me through the secret portal into Hollister. It took 10 minutes for my eyes to adjust to the nightclub-like dimness in the store. Apparently keeping the store in the dark not only saves on their electric bill, but it keeps customers from seeing just how tiny their shorts are, how amazingly tight their shirts are, and just how many pictures of half-naked guys there are in the store. Oh, I was just informed that there are just as many pictures of half-naked girls too. I have no idea why I didn't notice them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And stores like Hollister, Abercrombie, Aeropostale, Gap, etc are really quite smart when it comes to advertising. They print the store name all over all their clothing. Teens everywhere are advertising the stores for free. In fact, &lt;em&gt;they're&lt;/em&gt; paying the &lt;em&gt;store&lt;/em&gt; to advertise &lt;em&gt;for&lt;/em&gt; them! Personally, if I'm going to pay that much for a sweatshirt, I want it to say "Dawn Meehan" or "Dawn rocks!" or "Dawn's the awesomest!" But that's just me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I'll never be young enough and thin enough to wear their surfer clothes, I turned on my heel to leave the store when the most awesomely awesome thing caught my eye. They have a huge wall covered with a screen onto which a live webcam shows a beach in California. I want one of those for my house! This would be so amazing for those of us living in &lt;del&gt;the frozen tundra&lt;/del&gt; Chicago in the winter. I want one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so after I had sufficiently embarrassed Savannah in a number of stores, we decided to go to California Pizza Kitchen for lunch. Do you guys have these restaurants? I guess in California, they're probably just called Pizza Kitchens, huh? While we were there, I kinda, a little bit, sorta hit the person behind me in her head. Then I might have possibly flipped a knife off my plate, nearly drawing blood from a poor passerby. Yeah, remember the embarrassment at the store, Savannah? Doesn't seem so bad anymore, does it? I think it'll be awhile before she goes shopping with me again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-2875889146139738144?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/07/shopping-with-savannah.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SlKSNz-nq0I/AAAAAAAAGAw/ghUvTgQBMF8/s72-c/Hollister.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">40</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-1925513195344821244</guid><pubDate>Thu, 02 Jul 2009 19:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-07-02T16:03:48.682-05:00</atom:updated><title>I Need New Friends</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This is the first year I've ever gotten a pool pass for my family. I've never felt comfortable watching all of them around water until this year. Finally, I feel that most of them are old enough and good enough swimmers that I can concentrate on the little ones and let the older ones go on their own. My first 5 kids have never been afraid of the water which is not necessarily a good thing. I mean, I didn't want them to be scared, but a healthy respect for water would've been nice. From the time each of the first 5 kids could walk, they'd make a beeline for the water and jump right in without a second thought. Joe and I have spent many years chasing after little ones to keep them out of the pool, and jumping in after ones that we didn't catch in time. Thankfully, Brooklyn is a bit more timid. She's not scared of water, but she's never taken off for the high dive either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So this year, we've been spending a lot of time at the pool and I've come to the conclusion that &lt;del&gt;I'm way too fat to be hanging around the pool&lt;/del&gt; my friends are far too thin. Really, who are these moms who wear bikinis to the pool? Have they had extensive plastic surgery? Do they live on water and carrots? Do they work-out 8 hours a day? Or are they the worst kind of all - the kind who are just naturally thin even though they never exercise and they live on pizza, donuts, and beer? As I'm standing there talking to my friends, I non-chalantly glance over their shoulders, trying to find someone, &lt;em&gt;anyone&lt;/em&gt;, who looks worse in a bathing suit than I do. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Then it hit me. That's why I have so many friends! I'm the token fat-girl that everyone likes to hang around to make themselves look better! They don't like me because of my sparkling personality, my fascinating conversation skills, or my sense of humor. Nope, they stand next to me because the extra pounds on their thighs don't look so bad when compared to my &lt;del&gt;tree trunks&lt;/del&gt; legs. They may think they have a little arm jiggle, but when they see me wave to my kids and my flabby arms actually catch a breeze and inflate like the sail of a boat, they feel much better. Somehow the tiny bit of extra skin on their stomachs doesn't seem so bad when they overhear someone ask me when I'm due and I answer, "Three and a half years ago."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yep, I either need to move someplace much colder where I can wear jeans and sweatshirts every day or I need to start working out and losing weight. Nah, I'll just find some fatter friends to hang around.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-1925513195344821244?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-need-new-friends.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">35</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-353786661369647008</guid><pubDate>Tue, 30 Jun 2009 04:58:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-30T00:12:09.371-05:00</atom:updated><title>Pool Pass</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Family pool pass     $200&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Super-size bottle of sunscreen     $14&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Swimmer's ear drops     $6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Assorted swim toys     $35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Having the kids get so tired from swimming all day that they do this by 8:00 -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkmdJqxoWoI/AAAAAAAAGAY/rs0JO6uncOk/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352982421533383298" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkmdJqxoWoI/AAAAAAAAGAY/rs0JO6uncOk/s320/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkmdJ5Z8bxI/AAAAAAAAGAg/J1HWX11ilGc/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352982425460567826" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkmdJ5Z8bxI/AAAAAAAAGAg/J1HWX11ilGc/s320/037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Priceless!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-353786661369647008?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/pool-pass.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkmdJqxoWoI/AAAAAAAAGAY/rs0JO6uncOk/s72-c/035.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">34</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-474369951735358107</guid><pubDate>Sun, 28 Jun 2009 22:40:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-28T23:15:07.806-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sunday Sound Out</title><description>Frooooom Chicago, where Dawn has less than 48 hours to finish the rewrites on her pregnancy book tentatively titled "You'll Lose the Baby Weight (And Other Lies About Pregnancy &amp;amp; Childbirth)", it's Sunday Sound Out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When are you going to do another video blog?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my latest video blog where I pull Lexi's tooth. Yep, I'm one of those moms. I hate to see dangly little teeth and insist on pulling my kids' teeth when they get that loose. Thankfully, due to the lure of money from the tooth fairy, my kids usually happily let me pull their teeth for them. You can check the video out here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed name="flashObj" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=" src="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/1379211952" width="486" height="412" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashvars="videoId=25684185001&amp;amp;playerId=1379211952&amp;amp;viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://console.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&amp;amp;servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&amp;amp;cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&amp;amp;domain=embed&amp;amp;autoStart=false&amp;amp;" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" seamlesstabbing="false" swliveconnect="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll have some more video blogs coming soon. I didn't give them much to work with however, because I lost a tape! I had an hour of awesome material and I can't find it to save my life. I'm still hoping it'll just appear one day soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Here's a SSO question for you--how do you ever find time for yourself? I just had my 3rd baby 6 weeks ago, and I have a 3 year old and a 5 year old. Since the baby arrived, I can barely find time to eat a sandwich or spend 5 minutes checking my email during the day. My only reprieve is when my husband is done working and I basically throw the kids at him and say "They're all yours!". I'm having difficulty even finding time to fold a load of laundry without one of them needing SOMETHING, or else I have a squabble to break up before there is bloodshed, or the dog needs to go out NOW, or we're late for something already. I never knew adding one more kid to the mix would add 10x the work! How do you handle it with SIX?!?! You are my hero for the simple fact that you're still sane after all that.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duct tape and rum.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, seriously, I'll tell you what people told me back when I was in the trenches with 3 young kids. It will get easier! Of course, if you're like I was back then, you won't believe a word of it. Going from 2 to 3 was the hardest leap for me. It's tough. You don't have any time to yourself and you won't for a while. But it does get better. I promise. One day you'll be able to read an entire book that doesn't rhyme. And yes, I have 6, but 2 of those are teenagers and they help me a ton. Hang in there. Come here for a laugh. Trade stories with your girlfriends. And know that it does get easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hey. I would like to send you my book to be signed i might sound stupid but what does SASE mean? Also can you give me the address to send it to please. thanks&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SASE stands for Self-Addressed Stamped Envelope. Just send me return postage and the return address so I can mail the book back to you. You can sends books here -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dawn Meehan&lt;br /&gt;836 S. Arlington Heights Rd.&lt;br /&gt;box 230&lt;br /&gt;Elk Grove Village, IL 60007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or you can always order a book signed by me &lt;a href="http://store.signedbytheauthor.com/1488.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Also another question if someone wanted to get an autographed book from the website you posted. Is it signed by you? or just a sticker put on.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's signed by the one and only me! :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you make any special efforts to potty train your children or did you wait until it was mostly their idea?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooo! I wrote a potty training post almost 2 years ago &lt;a href="http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2007/08/joy-of-potty-training.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. I really pushed the issue with Austin because &lt;del&gt;I was stupid&lt;/del&gt; he was my first and I didn't know any better. It was disastrous. The other 5 trained themselves. They ranged in age from 2 to 3 1/2, but they all potty trained overnight with very few accidents when they decided they were ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dear Dawn, no, seriously, how do you strikeout words? I try, but it's not on my blogger options!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, pay attention because it seems like I get this question &lt;del&gt;every stinkin' week&lt;/del&gt; often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the word you want crossed out, type the "less than" sign, then letters D, E, L, then the "greater than" sign.&lt;br /&gt;After the word you want crossed out, type the "less than" sign, then this slash /, then the letters D, E, L, then and "greater than" sign.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dawn-when was the last time you went 36 whole hours without changing a diaper? You must be amazed with all the extra time you have now ;-) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nope, my time is now just spent setting Brooklyn on the toilet seat and wiping her butt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Yay, Joe! Do your kids realize what wonderful parents they have??? SURE they do, right? ;)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah. They tell us all the time how great we are. They thank me for watching out for their health when I make them eat their vegetables. They thank me for teaching them cleanliness when I make them clean their rooms. They thank me for teaching them responsibility when I make them do their homework and chores before playing. They thank Joe for making them ask before rummaging around his work bench and taking his tools. Yep, they just think we're awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't get it! You could (and still can) eat off my mother's floor, but I'm not sure my floor is fit for even a mouse!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You could eat off my floor! You know, because there are so many crumbs and stuff stuck to it. There's probably a whole meal down there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#14 For husbands only. Eat your ice cream as quietly as possible, because clinking the spoon against the bowl and making chewing sounds while eating your ice cream can sound like "nails on a chalkboard". At least to this wife!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good point, Jen! I'd almost forgotten about that one. Maybe we should let the guys take the kids camping by themselves this summer. You and I could head to a spa. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How many hours a day do you spend cleaning up after your children??&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Far less than I spend trying to teach them to clean up after themselves!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;With mess after mess how do you not just shut down and leave it where it is?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, ummm, about those pretzels that spilled on the floor a couple days ago...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I must get back to my book and finish it up before my editor reads this and realizes I'm still not done with it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-474369951735358107?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-sound-out_28.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-1560732402567295802</guid><pubDate>Sat, 27 Jun 2009 00:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-26T22:55:45.060-05:00</atom:updated><title>Step One, Step Two</title><description>"Thanks for taking us to the pool, Mom. Can we go back tomorrow? I'll help you out tonight. I'll give the little kids baths, ok?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks Jackson, that would be great. And we'll see about the pool tomorrow."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after Jackson "helped me" by bathing Brooklyn and Clay, I walked in the bathroom to see this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSxVUbVHI/AAAAAAAAF_M/b4aeldY53vE/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351845108433769586" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSxVUbVHI/AAAAAAAAF_M/b4aeldY53vE/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's go inside and take a closer look at the pile of wet towels and clothes, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh my gosh! Could it be? Did the kids actually change the empty roll of toilet paper? Oh my gosh, I think I'm having a heart attack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUgU_z9zI/AAAAAAAAF_U/xt3PXslotO0/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351847015312783154" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUgU_z9zI/AAAAAAAAF_U/xt3PXslotO0/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait. There's the empty roll on the floor. I knew it was too good to be true.&lt;br /&gt;Step One: Teach the kids to change the roll of toilet paper.&lt;br /&gt;Step Two: Teach the kids to &lt;em&gt;throw out &lt;/em&gt;the old roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUg1yO4nI/AAAAAAAAF_g/k3uNIRNjBpU/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351847024114197106" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUg1yO4nI/AAAAAAAAF_g/k3uNIRNjBpU/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a water bottle - Makes perfect sense to me.  You never know when you'll be peeing and get a sudden unquenchable thirst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUhb8SIfI/AAAAAAAAF_s/pDcPql6Jeyg/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351847034356900338" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUhb8SIfI/AAAAAAAAF_s/pDcPql6Jeyg/s320/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Nice.  You can't tell, but there are approximately 52 gallons of water on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUiM0IUeI/AAAAAAAAGAE/g2RFpJ6BwcQ/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351847047476040162" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUiM0IUeI/AAAAAAAAGAE/g2RFpJ6BwcQ/s320/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The floor was also covered in unripe raspberries the kids picked and put in their pockets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUhjyuR8I/AAAAAAAAF_4/yqosquAfySs/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351847036464285634" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWUhjyuR8I/AAAAAAAAF_4/yqosquAfySs/s320/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And is that the most disgusting thing you've ever seen?  That's how much dirt, sunscreen, and bug spray was on my kids last night!  It took me forever to scrub the tub clean!  And that was after cleaning up from their snack this afternoon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSxEDTleI/AAAAAAAAF_E/VgYe6Ana1Yw/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351845103798556130" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSxEDTleI/AAAAAAAAF_E/VgYe6Ana1Yw/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSw7KJ9KI/AAAAAAAAF-8/IKqRWUFz36A/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351845101411366050" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSw7KJ9KI/AAAAAAAAF-8/IKqRWUFz36A/s320/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note the dustpan.  The kids spilled pretzels, got out the dustpan and brush and ran outside to play.  Close, kids.  Really close.  But you have to &lt;em&gt;actually brush&lt;/em&gt; the pretzels into the pan and &lt;em&gt;throw them away&lt;/em&gt; before playing.&lt;br /&gt;Step One:  Teach the kids where the dust pan is located.&lt;br /&gt;Step Two:  Teach the kids to actually &lt;em&gt;use&lt;/em&gt; the dust pan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-1560732402567295802?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/step-one-step-two.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkWSxVUbVHI/AAAAAAAAF_M/b4aeldY53vE/s72-c/004.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">31</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-1526221153432295714</guid><pubDate>Fri, 26 Jun 2009 02:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-26T01:01:14.552-05:00</atom:updated><title>How to Eat Ice Cream</title><description>My 4 youngest kids asked if they could have bowls of ice cream before going to bed tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told them, "Yes, but just a little bit and SIT AT THE TABLE TO EAT IT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clearly, I made the mistake of omitting the following stipulations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Don't squirt chocolate syrup on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Don't squirt chocolate syrup on the counter.&lt;br /&gt;3.  Don't squirt chocolate syrup on the table.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Don't squirt chocolate syrup on each other.&lt;br /&gt;5.  You know what?  Just leave the chocolate syrup in the fridge!&lt;br /&gt;6.  Don't lay the lid from the empty ice cream container upside down on top of my books to be mailed out.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Don't leave the ice cream scooper on the floor where it fell.&lt;br /&gt;8.  Don't put ice cream in your hair.&lt;br /&gt;9.  Don't drop a huge spoonful of ice cream on your pajama pants and then smear it around.&lt;br /&gt;10.  Don't lick the spilled ice cream off the table; use a dish cloth!&lt;br /&gt;11.  Don't leave your bowls glued to the kitchen table with ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;12.  Don't leave your spoon, covered in ice cream, sitting on your chair.&lt;br /&gt;13.  Don't stir your ice cream until it turns into soup and then slurp it up from your bowl like a cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You may not realize you need to specify all these rules, but I'm telling you, if you don't, you'll be sorry.  Feel free to add any others you think your children may need such as, don't finger paint with the ice cream on the wall or don't have a contest with your brother on how far you can fling ice cream off your spoon. &lt;br /&gt;Forget the ice cream.  Forget all meals.  I think I'm just going to buy a trough, set it outside and fill it with kibble every day.  No fuss, no muss!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-1526221153432295714?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/how-to-eat-ice-cream.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">32</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-3581597135678393331</guid><pubDate>Thu, 25 Jun 2009 05:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-25T00:54:43.354-05:00</atom:updated><title>Pearl Girl Winner!</title><description>The random winner of the book, Pearl Girls (Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace) is.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Number 82!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MarcomMom said...&lt;br /&gt;I am so inspired by great women writers. Would love the book and will share it with others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations! Please email me at mom2my6pack@aol.com with your shipping address. Thank you to everyone for taking time to check out this worthwhile book. If you didn't win, you can order your own copy &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Pearl-Girls-Encountering-Experiencing-Grace/dp/0802458629/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1245909191&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. And remember, ALL the proceeds are going to benefit Hands of Hope and Wings, 2 excellent charities committed to helping women and children.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-3581597135678393331?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/pearl-girl-winner.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-6798177686134538985</guid><pubDate>Wed, 24 Jun 2009 04:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-24T00:12:17.859-05:00</atom:updated><title>Snap!</title><description>I teach Sunday school throughout the school year, but get a break from the classroom in the summer. I'm always so excited when summer comes because I tell myself that I can now go to worship service and hear the sermon and find out what's going on in the church. In reality, when Sunday rolls around, more often than not, I decide to sleep in. I know, I know, save the lectures. Honestly, this is a big reason why I teach Sunday school during the school year - so I'll get my butt to church! Otherwise sleeping in would be far too tempting week after week. What can I say? I love sleep and I get far too little of it these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, last week on Sunday, the kids and I slept in like lazy heathens. Joe went to church by himself. On the way home, he called me, "Hey, I'm on my way home and I have a surprise for the kids!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A surprise for the kids? I'm thinking that he picked up donuts. Cool! I don't have to make breakfast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was wrong. This is the surprise he brought home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkGvXVYpmkI/AAAAAAAAF-0/pPNAOBQ7Kpo/s1600-h/071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350750647705246274" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkGvXVYpmkI/AAAAAAAAF-0/pPNAOBQ7Kpo/s320/071.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkGvWx_mSEI/AAAAAAAAF-s/ih2KvMcDxRs/s1600-h/070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350750638204930114" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkGvWx_mSEI/AAAAAAAAF-s/ih2KvMcDxRs/s320/070.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep, that's right - a big ole snapping turtle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Surprise!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Umm, does this mean there are no donuts?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy was out in the road as Joe drove home from church so instead of picking him up and plunking him back in the water, Joe opted to bring him home for a little show and tell before loading up the kids and the smelly turtle and returning him to his watery home. I think I've figured out where Clay gets his curiosity about critters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-6798177686134538985?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/snap.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkGvXVYpmkI/AAAAAAAAF-0/pPNAOBQ7Kpo/s72-c/071.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">20</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-2011743388974708642</guid><pubDate>Tue, 23 Jun 2009 04:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-23T00:02:00.852-05:00</atom:updated><title>Man Who Catch Fly with Chopstick, Accomplish Anything</title><description>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I asked the kids to leave me alone this afternoon so I could get some work done on my book, so naturally, they came knocking on my door every 10 minutes. I gave them specific instructions to let me work in peace unless someone was on fire, spurting blood, or had any bones protruding through their skin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, can we &lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;del&gt;&lt;/span&gt;smear soap all over your car and leave it to dry in a nasty film and then spray each other and the windows of the house with water and then leave the hose, bucket, sponges, and soap on the driveway all day&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/del&gt;&lt;/span&gt; wash your car?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, can you take us bowling?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, can I go to the pool with my friends?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, can I call Allyson?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, I know I'm grounded, but can I go to Timmy's house?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, Brooklyn wants to wear her bathing suit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, can we &lt;del&gt;flood the backyard&lt;/del&gt; make a pool out of the sandbox?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, Clay just hammered his finger and he's screaming. I think it's broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, Brooklyn's eating gum off the ground.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, can we &lt;del&gt;use some string cheese and an old pizza box to try and catch a mouse in the garage&lt;/del&gt; have some cheese for a snack?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;KNOCK KNOCK: Mom, I have to go potty again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;(This was the only interruption I didn't mind today. For some reason *&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Shhhh, I don't want to jinx it, but...* Brooklyn took it upon herself to potty train today. She's been completely dry for about 36 hours. She even pooped on the toilet for the first time ever today. I'm not sure why today was the magical day, but I'm not knocking it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Then, at one point, Clay was hanging out in my room this afternoon. You know, because I asked all the kids to leave me alone for a while. He was watching a fly buzz around my window. He sat still and watched, seemingly fascinated by the insect. Then, quick as lightning, he reached out and grabbed it! I kid you not! Mr. Miyagi would be proud! Oh well, at least it's better than the handful of worms he brought me yesterday. At first glance I thought he'd found some critter's intestines.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkBfUW-2t3I/AAAAAAAAF-k/s2481UIIRag/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350381160687384434" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkBfUW-2t3I/AAAAAAAAF-k/s2481UIIRag/s320/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Needless to say, I got very little work done today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-2011743388974708642?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/man-who-catch-fly-with-chopstick.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SkBfUW-2t3I/AAAAAAAAF-k/s2481UIIRag/s72-c/001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">19</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-1121964802485802917</guid><pubDate>Sun, 21 Jun 2009 23:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-21T20:35:21.054-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sunday Sound Out</title><description>&lt;strong&gt;Happy Father's Day to all the dads and grandpas and dad-like guys out there! Here's one for you! :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Oqy5TMVWYn0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Oqy5TMVWYn0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ok, did the hamster really go through the wash?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhhh no. We've never had a hamster. The gerbils, on the other hand...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I knew IF I was sharp enough,eventually I would catch you in a FIB!! So..You're a THIRTY-Something,eh? NOT according to the photo you just posted standing next to your little BROTHER! The JIG is UP,Meehan!What are ya REALLY? 20? 21?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Ok, you're officially my new best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;By the way: Where are those ExLibris stickers?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, all the ones I've seen have dorky images and I don't really want to order up a bunch of "From the library of" stickers. However, you can order an autographed copy of Because I Said So &lt;a href="http://store.signedbytheauthor.com/1488.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; or you can mail me your book along with a SASE for return shipping and I'll sign it and send it back to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dawn, whatever you do, start saving for college now. Otherwise you'll end up doing what we're having to do - sell things (ie, husband's beloved project cars) to pay for her tuition. =D&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's ok. I have a plan. All 6 of them are going to get full rides to the universities of their choice. What? It could happen! (See? I could TOTALLY write fiction!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Is he [Austin] the only child that looks like your husband? The rest seem to look like you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno. Most people say that the first 5 look like him and Brooklyn is more like me. I don't think Brooklyn looks like me. Unless..... you don't think they're talking about her attitude, do you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Saw the photos with Audi (that's what we call my nephew Austin) by the Fisher Price Basketball hoop and was just wondering . . . with six kiddos how many Fisher Price Basketball hoops have you gone thru? How many Cozy Coupe cars? How many bouncy seats (a.k.a. baby catipolts)? Pacifiers? Diaper bags? Bottles? Tricycles? etc. etc.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm, I've never stopped to add everything up. I'd say approximately 4.8 million dollars' worth of stuff. You know, give or take...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;lol, if you didn't have to fight to get her dressed, then why does she still look upset? or is that just Brooklyn? lol LOVE the boots:)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhh yeah. That's Brooklyn. The other day, she wore one sandal and one dress-up shoe all day. Clomp click, clomp click, clomp click was all we heard as she walked through the house. When it came time to leave for baseball, Jackson was adamant about her changing shoes. He wanted her to wear 2 matching sandals. She, of course, threw an all-out fit. I told Jax to let it go. Well, she fell asleep in the car on the way to the field and Jackson took that opportunity to change her shoes. I carried a sleeping Brooklyn to the bleachers and sat down to watch the game. As she began to wake up, she looked at her shoes (or the &lt;em&gt;lack&lt;/em&gt; of one dress-up shoe) and started screaming again. There's a reason why she's the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And as a mom preg with her 6th I must ask how does 6 compare to 5?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know people say this all the time, but really it's true - once you have that many, what's one more? Going from 5 to 6 really didn't make much difference to us. You're a pro now. You've got the whole parenting thing down pat and you've got (hopefully) a little bit older kids who can help out some. It'll be a piece of cake for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What are your plans for "enjoying" another funnel cake? Too bad you didn't barf into a towel. You could have just thrown it away. It is too hard to throw away a shower.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got food poisoning when I was pregnant with Austin. It was right after I'd eaten at one of those places with burritos the size of your head. I've never been so sick. I didn't eat Mexican food for a good 8 years after that. I don't think I'll be looking at another funnel cake for some time.&lt;br /&gt;And your towel plan gives me an even better idea! Next time (oh please God don't let there EVER be a next time!) I'll just puke in the street then I can simply walk away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Actually, wouldn't it be pretty easy to clean the shower? Just wash it down the drain with some sanitizer thrown in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Perhaps for a normal person. If I hear, see, smell, or even think about vomit, I throw up. If I was stupid enough to open the shower door, I would've thrown up all over the bathroom floor. I'm not kidding. Thank God, Joe stopped by and cleaned it up for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click &lt;a href="http://dawnmeehan.blogspot.com/2009/06/baby-einstein.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to head on over to my review blog for a chance to win a gift package from Baby Einstein!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Click &lt;a href="http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/pearl-girls.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for a chance to win a copy of Pearl Girls!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-1121964802485802917?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-sound-out_21.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-985969849821461938</guid><pubDate>Sat, 20 Jun 2009 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-20T12:47:54.933-05:00</atom:updated><title>Pearl Girls</title><description>My friend Margaret McSweeney is the inspiration behind the book, Pearl Girls:  Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace. Margaret is one of those incredible people who just blesses everyone fortunate enough to meet her. And if you so much as ride in an elevator with her, you WILL meet her. She's one of those outgoing people who is just full of joy! Anyway, she has assembled some of the best female Christian writers on the planet to add their wisdom to this amazingly inspirational book. You'll find stories from Debbie Macomber, Shaunti Feldhahn, Melody Carlson, Robin Jones Gunn, and many, many others!  For some reason she asked me to contribute also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sj0WsJfaKmI/AAAAAAAAF-E/5SyjnzxcjXw/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349456880103729762" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sj0WsJfaKmI/AAAAAAAAF-E/5SyjnzxcjXw/s320/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This book, I'm certain, will bless the lives of the people who read it, but not only that, it's going to bless a whole lotta people near and far because all proceeds are being donated to two charities. One is &lt;a href="http://www.handsofhopeonline.org/who.asp"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Hands of Hope&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; - "Hands of Hope is a community of women helping women and children in crisis, with a current focus on Africa." The other is &lt;a href="http://www.wingsprogram.com/about.htm"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;Wings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Women in Need Growing Stronger) - "WINGS helps homeless and abused women and children by offering integrated services that meet their needs for shelter, education, guidance and support." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was fortunate enough to meet Rebecca Darr, the Executive Director of Wings and later was given a tour of one of Wings' safe houses this past winter. I was surprised at not only how nice the house was, but at the services offered. Wings does not just provide a safe place to stay for women and children escaping domestic violence. It provides education, and help in finding employment. Wings doesn't kick the women and children out of the safe house after a couple weeks or months and leave them to fend for themselves either. They find them housing and continue to work alongside them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sj0dRl79pcI/AAAAAAAAF-M/vWw_ig3K9u8/s1600-h/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349464120464614850" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sj0dRl79pcI/AAAAAAAAF-M/vWw_ig3K9u8/s320/029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca is on the far left&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This book contains over 60 essays from some of the awesomest writers.  (Yes, it's a word!)  I know you'll find it inspiring!  Get a copy for yourself and all the wonderful women in your lives.  It's not only a book that will bless you, but it'll bless the lives of women and children struggling to survive in Africa and women and children fleeing from domestic violence here in the Chicago suburbs.  You can get a copy of Pearl Girls:  Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Pearl-Girls-Encountering-Experiencing-Grace/dp/0802458629/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1245519426&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a copy of Pearl Girls to give away!  Leave me a comment here, and I'll choose a random winner on Wednesday.  Good luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-985969849821461938?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/pearl-girls.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sj0WsJfaKmI/AAAAAAAAF-E/5SyjnzxcjXw/s72-c/018.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">84</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-1418185218797451686</guid><pubDate>Sat, 20 Jun 2009 16:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-20T13:28:56.257-05:00</atom:updated><title>Evil Funnel Cakes</title><description>I'm sorry I've been missing in action. I've had a umm, &lt;em&gt;hectic&lt;/em&gt; week to say the least, but things are falling into place and getting better. And summer has finally hit in Chicago. We went from shivering in 50 degree weather at our kids' baseball games, to sweating in 89 degrees with 4000% humidity overnight. We've had so much rain that I spent yesterday searching for the schematics to build an ark that I printed out last year when my town flooded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days ago, at Savannah's softball game, the little kids were lying on the ground coloring with markers. Clay got bored coloring and stacked 3 markers together in a kind of makeshift light saber. Because playing with weapons is always a good idea. Anyway, this looked like fun to Brooklyn who did the same thing. Except she decided she wanted ALL of the markers so she ran around, chasing Clayton, screaming and whining that she wanted his markers too. Right on cue, Clay took off teasing and taunting her just to make her scream a little louder because not everyone within a 15 mile radius could hear her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I was trying to videotape Savannah pitching so I didn't immediately intervene. As the inning ended and I started walking toward Brooklyn, the umpire (a teenage girl with an attitude) said, to no one in particular, "Someone better give that brat what she wants!" Little did she know I was the mother of said "brat". I looked at her and said, "Actually, no, I'm not going to give in to her demands." The ump muttered, "I'm sorry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I walked over to Brooklyn and told her to scream a little louder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the game, I took the kids to a nearby festival for a couple hours. The kids went on a couple rides and I listened to the band with my friend Doreen for a little bit. When we left, I ordered a couple funnel cakes, brought them home, and used them to bribe the kids to shower and get ready for bed. I even Twittered about this. I believe I said something like, "Mmmm funnel cakes! I could live on funnel cakes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 5:00AM, I woke up, sick to my stomach. Now, you have to know that I hate, hate, hate to throw up. I mean, I'm sure no one really LIKES to vomit, but I absolutely detest it! My friend Sue and I have talked about this. Whereas most people would get to a point of such pain and discomfort, they would welcome the relief that comes with vomiting, we would do anything and everything in our power to avoid it. I'd rather lie, writhing in pain all night then to give up and throw up. I'd rather have diarrhea every day for the rest of my life than to vomit even once. I pray profusely whenever I get &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; stomachache that tells me its contents are about to be evacuated. "Please God, I beg of you, keep me from throwing up! Pleeeeeaaaaassssseeee! I'll do anything! I'll move to Africa and be a missionary. I'll give up funnel cakes forever! I'll stop yelling at my kids! Just say the word, God!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my stomach continued to feel worse and worse, I began to think that God wasn't listening to me. And really, what was He thinking when He designed humans with the ability to put their digestive systems in reverse anyway? What an awful, horrible way to get rid of the contents of our stomachs! In fact, the whole digestive process is pretty gross when you think about it. Before I got too far into my analysis of human digestion and how I'm sure I could've done a better job than God at designing people, I got that uncontrollable urge and ran to the bathroom. After emptying everything from my mouth down to my toes, I hopped in the shower to &lt;del&gt;cry like a baby&lt;/del&gt; cool off and feel better. But no, oh no, my stomach wasn't done rebelling yet. I continued to throw up in the shower. (Yes, yes, I do need to share the graphic details with you.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's the thing. I can't clean puke. Not mine, not my kids', no one's. I can't do it. Not, "I &lt;em&gt;don't like to&lt;/em&gt; do it" but "I CAN'T do it!" The mere &lt;em&gt;thought&lt;/em&gt; of it, makes me vomit. So, I did what any other normal person would do. I shut the shower door, taped a sign to it saying, "Do not use", and went back to bed. It's ok. We have another shower. If anyone ever barfs in&lt;em&gt; that&lt;/em&gt; shower, we'll just move to another house. That's my plan and I'm sticking to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-1418185218797451686?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/evil-funnel-cakes.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">26</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-7948013499230651808</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Jun 2009 18:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-16T23:36:46.860-05:00</atom:updated><title>My Fashion Plate</title><description>There was a time when I never would have left the house with a kid dressed this way. You know, back when I just had a couple kids. I used to think that if your kids were dressed to the nines, coordinating Gymboree clothing, hair neatly coiffed, unscuffed shoes and matching accessories, then everyone would think you were a good parent. If you went out in public with your 3 year old daughter wearing, for example, red, white &amp;amp; blue shorts, a teal tank top with metallic gold fish all over it and hot pink cowboy boots that are 2 sizes too big for her, then everyone would think you were a terrible parent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I realize it doesn't matter at all how your kids are dressed in public. Wait, scratch that. It would still matter to me if say, your teenage daughter was wearing a slutty dress or something like that. But, as far as little kids dressing themselves, it doesn't matter one little bit. In fact, I think you're better off letting your kids dress like hobos when you go out in public because really, when the mom with the kids dressed to the nines walks by, what do you think? You don't think - Wow, she's got it all together! Look at her kids! They're in matching duds and they're all clean and shiny! Nope, admit it. You think - what an overachiever, as you snort to yourself (even if you're secretly wishing that just once you could run to the store without one of your kids forgetting their shoes, another one with a cup and a half of peanut butter smeared on their face, and yet another one dressed like a color-blind clown.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's my stubborn Brooklyn in the red, white &amp;amp; blue shorts, teal tank top with metallic gold decorations and hot pink cowboy boots that are 2 sizes too big. Yeah, we got some strange looks as my little fashion plate clomped along in her big, pink boots, but you know what? It doesn't matter. She was happy, I didn't have to fight with her about getting dressed, and I didn't have to worry about anyone looking at me like I was an overachiever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjfkBbQ6-VI/AAAAAAAAF98/DIut4kX_azU/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347993795675486546" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjfkBbQ6-VI/AAAAAAAAF98/DIut4kX_azU/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***** For those of you who asked if/why Brooklyn was mad, here's the scoop. We came to a stop light and I said, "Gee that's a great outfit, Sweetie! Can I take your picture?" Brooklyn, being the most stubborn child on the planet, looked the other way and refused to smile. As soon as the light turned green and I turned around to drive, she looked at me, smiled, and said, "You can take my picture now." *****&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-7948013499230651808?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-fashion-plate.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjfkBbQ6-VI/AAAAAAAAF98/DIut4kX_azU/s72-c/006.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">53</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-6335600009034311802</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Jun 2009 03:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-16T00:31:15.049-05:00</atom:updated><title>Austin's Going to High School!</title><description>Austin graduated from 8th grade tonight. I don't know how that happened! I swear I was just pregnant with him, waiting, waiting, waiting for him to make an appearance (he was 2 days late and at the time it seemed more like 2 months overdue.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcR5ujroZI/AAAAAAAAF80/UDao3WYBgw0/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347762765973660050" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcR5ujroZI/AAAAAAAAF80/UDao3WYBgw0/s320/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure what's up with the goofy face he was making and I have no idea when he got so tall! Just yesterday he looked like this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrFqq8ofI/AAAAAAAAF9M/4sJUy1C35DY/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347790458879517170" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrFqq8ofI/AAAAAAAAF9M/4sJUy1C35DY/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrFuSFibI/AAAAAAAAF9E/YWgd88huM7I/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347790459848985010" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrFuSFibI/AAAAAAAAF9E/YWgd88huM7I/s320/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrGP8rXOI/AAAAAAAAF9c/CtkGlTmVJ14/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347790468885994722" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrGP8rXOI/AAAAAAAAF9c/CtkGlTmVJ14/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrF4LORdI/AAAAAAAAF9U/ydR4Tz9KwrY/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347790462504551890" style="WIDTH: 208px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcrF4LORdI/AAAAAAAAF9U/ydR4Tz9KwrY/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;:) He wore this hat for years. Every single day, day after day. He slept in this hat. I had to fight with him to take it off for his bath. This hat was his security blanket. I still have the ratty ole thing packed away in a box in my attic. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One down and five to go. And then there's high school.....and college....and weddings....oh my!&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/4732255176396931795-6335600009034311802?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/austin-graduated-from-8th-grade-tonight.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjcR5ujroZI/AAAAAAAAF80/UDao3WYBgw0/s72-c/015.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">24</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-4863043984070406309</guid><pubDate>Mon, 15 Jun 2009 04:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-14T23:18:16.523-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sunday Sound Out</title><description>Now it's time for Sunday Sound Out, the part of the blog where Larry comes out and answers your questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was wondering how much coffee you drink in the mornings to get you going?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm beyond coffee. These days, I just chew a handful of beans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dare I ask what they wanted to accomplish with this "experiment"? [blue liquid in sink] What treasure to mankind was to be made? Inquiring minds want to know (ok this inquiring mind wants to know)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I asked Clay and Brooklyn what they were trying to make and they answered with a highly intelligent, well thought-out "I dunno".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's up with the adorable White Sox top? I thought you guys were Cub fans...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Auww! What a terribly ugly shirt on such a cute little girl... poor Brooklyn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I just knew someone was going to comment on that! &lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt; am a Cubs fan. Joe, Austin &amp;amp; Savannah are fans of &lt;em&gt;that other team&lt;/em&gt;. And the shirt Brooklyn was wearing was a gift from friends of ours as a cruel joke. :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just have to ask - what was your reaction? [blue liquid in sink] Some days I wonder if I should yell or laugh when my kids do things like that. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, stuff like that doesn't usually bother me. So the little kids poured some stuff in the sink to see what would happen. No big deal, in my opinion. Is it going to matter next week, next month, next year? Nah. I don't yell, but I don't really laugh either. I kinda shake my head and try to explain that there are better experiments (that don't use copious amounts of shampoo and their brother's toothbrush) to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I must also say that I've now read your book, it really was just as good as I expected and now I am looking forward to vol 2. How long do I have to wait? Until Christmas?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, thank you, thank you!!! You'll have to wait until 2020 if I don't finish up my rewrites soon! Actually, it's scheduled to come out spring, 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Why was it that Veggie Tales "O, Where is My Hairbrush?" was running through my head the whole time I was reading your post?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea, but it's now in my head. Gee thanks for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LtHr7gluh08&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LtHr7gluh08&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hahahah. that's disgusting(and hilarious)LOLplease tell me you RE-washed the clothes. [crayfish claw in laundry]&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding? I do a good 4 loads of laundry a day. I don't have time to rewash clothes because there are dead animals parts in them. Besides, it gives the kids something to find during the day. It's a like a little surprise. They'll be sitting in school and reach into their pocket or put on their sweatshirt and find a claw, or a tail, or a foot in the sleeve. It's all good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Thank goodness you don't have a hamster!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, that was a sad day when Fluffy went through the wash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your posts are so entertaining! I have to ask, what age of child do you enjoy most? What age is the worst? I have a 22 month old and I think the terrible twos have begun (though I've heard three is much worse).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure, but I'm thinking age 0 - 18 is probably the worst.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, honestly, I like all the ages so far. It's cool to see how the kids grow and change. I love seeing how their minds work (and sometimes don't work) at each age. It's so great how they learn more and more at every stage. My teenagers have learned so much that they're smarter than I am now. I'm fact, I'm downright stupid compared to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Perhaps a buzz haircut will trick the Chicago weather into warming up. We can hope.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shhhh, you shouldn't say that aloud! You'll jinx it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HAHAHAH!!! well at least he's a boy and you COULD buzz him. what happens when a girl does that???? I'm so worried about my 2 girls. I'm sure one of them will do it. yikes.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjW-agdo2-I/AAAAAAAAF8s/i6_F-JiYRII/s1600-h/SCAN0002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347389495172455394" style="WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjW-agdo2-I/AAAAAAAAF8s/i6_F-JiYRII/s320/SCAN0002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Savannah cut her hair after watching the movie Mulan. In the movie, Mulan cuts her hair to look like a boy. Cute, huh? Lexi cut her waist-length hair a week before she was to be a flower-girl in my sister's wedding. Actually, every single one of my kids (except Brooklyn) have given themselves or a sibling a haircut at one point or another. I give Brooklyn 6 months until she does it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ALL cut their own hair at some point. Or they cut a sibling's hair. It's just a fact of life. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hi I came across your blog while searching for party supplies for my son's birthday. He is wanting a green eggs and ham party and was wondering by chance if you know where i can get any decorations or even any ideas for the party. Any help would be greatly appreciated! Thanks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure. All you have to do is click the little X in the top right corner of my blog. Then type "Green eggs ham party supplies" in your web browser. Make sure you type it like I wrote it. Don't go typing, "I need to find Dr. Seuss Green Eggs and Ham party decorations for my son's birthday where should I go".&lt;br /&gt;Talk about multi-talented! I not only blog, but I find party supplies for people, AND I teach you how to use Google.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I requested your book from the library. Good book btw. I was wondering why the little boys eyes on the book cover are purple?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm, he's an alien in disguise?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-4863043984070406309?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-sound-out_12.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjW-agdo2-I/AAAAAAAAF8s/i6_F-JiYRII/s72-c/SCAN0002.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">15</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-8827668535994341915</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Jun 2009 22:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-13T17:36:41.673-05:00</atom:updated><title>Beauty School</title><description>I was giving Austin a haircut outside today so he'll be all handsome-like for his graduation on Monday. Clay came out and said, "Look Mom! I have armpit hair!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I turned around to see this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoYlY74AI/AAAAAAAAF8M/V2uyQLWtm44/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346943060414291970" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoYlY74AI/AAAAAAAAF8M/V2uyQLWtm44/s320/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoY-OuYMI/AAAAAAAAF8U/I9bD0LSXzeY/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346943067082350786" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoY-OuYMI/AAAAAAAAF8U/I9bD0LSXzeY/s320/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, Clay scooped up the pile of hair from the garage floor and stuffed it under his armpits.  A few minutes later, he ran inside and reemerged with this brand new hair cut...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoZLrEK2I/AAAAAAAAF8c/rnHt-P7XygE/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346943070690880354" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoZLrEK2I/AAAAAAAAF8c/rnHt-P7XygE/s320/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Note the before and after pictures.  Great new hairstyle, don't you think?  Uh yeah.  I asked him, "Clay, why did you cut your hair?  Do you know how to cut hair?  Did you go to beauty school to learn how to cut hair???"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To which I heard this reply, "You didn't go to beauty school to learn how to cut hair either."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Touché!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then I buzzed him.  That kid's gonna be the death of me.&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/4732255176396931795-8827668535994341915?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/beauty-school.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjQoYlY74AI/AAAAAAAAF8M/V2uyQLWtm44/s72-c/001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">29</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-6130230137719548537</guid><pubDate>Thu, 11 Jun 2009 04:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-11T00:20:26.103-05:00</atom:updated><title>More Things in My Washer</title><description>I guess I shouldn't have complained about all the missing socks yesterday. This is what I pulled out of the dryer today. Apparently I'm not only washing clothes these days, but crustacean parts as well. Oh gosh, I hope it was just a claw when it went in and not a whole crayfish! Ugh. "JACKSON! No more playing by the creek!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjCSQf916cI/AAAAAAAAF8E/Lv9f9thjBoU/s1600-h/079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345933569845225922" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjCSQf916cI/AAAAAAAAF8E/Lv9f9thjBoU/s320/079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-6130230137719548537?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/more-things-in-my-washer.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SjCSQf916cI/AAAAAAAAF8E/Lv9f9thjBoU/s72-c/079.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">32</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-9204644611794171301</guid><pubDate>Wed, 10 Jun 2009 04:17:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-10T00:52:12.344-05:00</atom:updated><title>Where Do All The Socks Go?</title><description>I'm the only person in my house who can find anything. Seriously, I'm the only one who thinks to look for Brooklyn's shoes in the bathtub. I'm the only one who would think of looking on the back of the toilet seat for Lexi's glasses. No one else in the family can see the orange juice in the fridge when it's behind the gallon of milk. If something doesn't jump out and bite them on the butt, they'll never find it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's my hairbrush, Mom?"&lt;br /&gt;"Behind the couch."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Where's my homework?"&lt;br /&gt;"Look on the shelf with the video tapes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't find my headband."&lt;br /&gt;"It's outside on the swingset."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I should start teaching classes on how to look for missing objects. I should show my family how to actually &lt;em&gt;move&lt;/em&gt; things around in order to find the missing item. "If you don't see the yogurt, it doesn't mean it vanished from the fridge. Try &lt;em&gt;moving&lt;/em&gt; the leftover pizza and look &lt;em&gt;behind&lt;/em&gt; it. There you go! That's it! See? The yogurt's still there in the fridge and you &lt;em&gt;can&lt;/em&gt; find it. All you have to do is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;look&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can find stuff.  I'm good at finding stuff.  So, why is that I can't seem to find the match for this many socks?!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si80uKG6uII/AAAAAAAAF78/UTHuD4D8LXY/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345549250304063618" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si80uKG6uII/AAAAAAAAF78/UTHuD4D8LXY/s320/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si80t8jYbQI/AAAAAAAAF70/l1pIFX4NZ7o/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345549246665354498" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si80t8jYbQI/AAAAAAAAF70/l1pIFX4NZ7o/s320/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where do they go?  Where on earth do all the stray socks go?  And not only that, but I often find extra socks that don't even belong to anyone in my family!  "I don't remember anyone having purple argyle socks!  Where'd this sock come from???" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose if I was a Martha Stewart kinda gal, I could sew cute little animal buddies out of the stray socks.  But I'm not that &lt;del&gt;deranged&lt;/del&gt; crafty.  I've been hanging onto these things, optimistically hoping their sole mate (Get it?  SOLE mate!  Not soul mate.  SOLE mate, like the sole of your foot! BAAA HAAA HAAA!  Oh I just crack myself up!  Hey, it's late.) would magically appear one day.  I think it's time to give up the dream though.  It's time I acquire some new dust rags, I believe.  I mean, it's not like I won't have a brand new crop of singlets by this time next week...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-9204644611794171301?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/where-do-all-socks-go.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si80uKG6uII/AAAAAAAAF78/UTHuD4D8LXY/s72-c/033.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">84</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-102857864197081752</guid><pubDate>Tue, 09 Jun 2009 04:34:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-09T00:18:10.722-05:00</atom:updated><title>Another Experiment</title><description>I walked into the bathroom the other day to find this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3p4eXxAeI/AAAAAAAAF7c/1zJUJZY7hEg/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345185489193337314" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3p4eXxAeI/AAAAAAAAF7c/1zJUJZY7hEg/s320/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;their latest experiment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3t8-JmoFI/AAAAAAAAF7s/QCH9zcaDuys/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345189964489859154" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3t8-JmoFI/AAAAAAAAF7s/QCH9zcaDuys/s320/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But how can you be mad at a kid who turns around, picks some flowers and hands them to you, saying, "I love you Mama"? (In case you're wondering - yes, I replaced Austin's toothbrush.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3p4MY3exI/AAAAAAAAF7U/dgJ-KEcEOzY/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345185484366117650" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3p4MY3exI/AAAAAAAAF7U/dgJ-KEcEOzY/s320/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-102857864197081752?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/another-experiment.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Si3p4eXxAeI/AAAAAAAAF7c/1zJUJZY7hEg/s72-c/001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">21</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-9145599795265153781</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Jun 2009 02:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-08T01:28:51.045-05:00</atom:updated><title>Sunday Sound Out</title><description>It's time, once again, for Sunday Sound Out, the part of the show where I answer viewer mail. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, congratulations to Vicki Vaught who won a copy of Because I Said So in Jen Singer's The Housewife Awards on &lt;a href="http://mommasaid.net/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;MommaSaid.net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. You can check out her winning story&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://mommasaid.net/housewifeawards.aspx#winner158"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm still wondering how you cut the lipgloss cake. Did you have to set it on its side? Cut it in half from the top down and then set each half cut side down? Just trying to figure out how you would cut it so each piece has frosting. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You didn't like last week's answer that I used a knife to cut it? OK, the lipgloss cake was actually 8 small 6-inch cakes stacked up. Between every 2 cakes, I put a cardboard circle and dowel rods for support. See the nifty diagram &lt;del&gt;I just slapped together&lt;/del&gt; on which I slaved for hours drawing to scale. When it came time to cut it, I just cut through 2 layers at a time, then removed the cardboard and dowels and cut through the next 2 layers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siylp1Yl3vI/AAAAAAAAF60/DdxUICwmnfw/s1600-h/lipgloss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344828995905380082" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 309px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siylp1Yl3vI/AAAAAAAAF60/DdxUICwmnfw/s320/lipgloss.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can't believe how much your kids look alike! You put them by age in reverse order, right? Brooklyn at the top; Austin at the bottom? I HAVE to know! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep! Very good! I'm impressed. I don't even think my family could get them all right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So someone asked me, if there is going to be a translation [of Because I Said So into other languages] -- so is there? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think so. But I ouldcay obablypray anslatetray itay intotay Igpay Atinlay oweverhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just have an SSO question. Have you had to change your phone number or other personal info due to all this fame? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I've changed my name and am now answering to Ed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;oh so cool - um, I didn't know you could play these games on an ipod??? Will an ipod nano work?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sorry. I should've been more specific. The apps I talked about are for an iPod Touch or an iPhone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SSO: When do your kids get out of school? Are they doing any camps this summer? How will you keep them occupied? Send all your suggestions my way... Nothing worse than 5 kids saying, "I'm bored."&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They still have another week to go. I don't have them signed up for any camps or summer school or anything. I just like to let everyone have a break from the routine in the summer. I don't have much planned. I'm more of a "fly by the seat of my pants" kinda gal. I'm sure we'll visit the zoo a few times, hang out at the local pool, go downtown a time or two, and probably do some camping. I like having our days free for impromptu get-togethers with friends and day trips to museums or waterparks and such.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If they tell me they're bored, I'll give them something to do to break up the monotony... something like folding laundry or cleaning the bathrooms or memorizing the periodic table of elements.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yeah! My friend Denise sent me this resource. Check it out to see if there are any participating lanes in your area. You can sign the kids up at your local bowling alley and each kid will receive 2 free games of bowling every day, all summer long. Check this site for details, but it's a pretty awesome deal! &lt;a href="http://www.kidsbowlfree.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;KidsBowlFree.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Please tell me you didn't get that mess of seafood from the Italian Village! I would be so disappointed if you did! It looks like you might have been eating outside though, so it couldn't be Italian Village....whew.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was Volare and the food (other than the ocean on a plate) was really good. But I agree, Italian Village is my favorite! You can't beat that atmosphere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;*Come and knock on our door, we've been waiting for you, where the kisses are hers! and hers! and his! Three's Company, too*&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm going to have that song in my head all day. :-)&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hadn't even THOUGHT of the song till you sang it and now it's in MY head too! Thanks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your pictures of the city make me want to just go downtown and be a tourist for the day! I love this city!!! (I just don't like driving in it!) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Neither do I!  That's why I take the train. You meet interesting characters on the train! Like this old guy who was wearing pirate pants. For some reason, it amused me to see little jolly rogers all over his shorts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiysykjotGI/AAAAAAAAF7E/wAk0Ma5AzMA/s1600-h/047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344836842588517474" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiysykjotGI/AAAAAAAAF7E/wAk0Ma5AzMA/s320/047.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siysy-gMgZI/AAAAAAAAF7M/mVn8oRzgD0M/s1600-h/049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344836849553408402" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siysy-gMgZI/AAAAAAAAF7M/mVn8oRzgD0M/s320/049.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or Hanukkah Harry (I met him in December).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siysydy4EwI/AAAAAAAAF68/-3cjoxolIS0/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344836840773391106" style="WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siysydy4EwI/AAAAAAAAF68/-3cjoxolIS0/s320/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The sign is because people were getting their purses stolen off the hook on bathroom doors while they were "indisposed" ;) &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Really? And here I thought there were really attack purses on the loose in the city!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have a question, is there a way to get your blog posts sent in their entirety to email anymore?&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, give it another day and it'll be back to the way it was. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Wow!  My spell check really didn't like that Pig Latin!)&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/4732255176396931795-9145599795265153781?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunday-sound-out.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siylp1Yl3vI/AAAAAAAAF60/DdxUICwmnfw/s72-c/lipgloss.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-4222725735198297116</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Jun 2009 01:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-06T20:21:34.107-05:00</atom:updated><title>iPod App Winners</title><description>Oops, I forgot to announce the winners of the iPhone apps.  Here you go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Integer Generator&lt;br /&gt;Here are your random numbers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15&lt;br /&gt;53&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 15 sandyn said... &lt;br /&gt;Dawn,my son is always bugging me for $$ for apps for his ipod, wouldn't it be nice to get a few free ones?thanks for the blog...you rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 53 Donna said... &lt;br /&gt;i have an itouch, and in addition to games, i have downloaded books to read while waiting........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations!  Email me to confirm.  Thank you to everyone who left a comment.  I got some great new app ideas from reading through all the comments!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4732255176396931795-4222725735198297116?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/ipod-app-winners.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-6349485989612866587</guid><pubDate>Fri, 05 Jun 2009 02:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-04T22:36:27.161-05:00</atom:updated><title>Mmmmm Sonic!</title><description>The good folks at Sonic noticed I'd twittered and blogged &lt;a href="http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2008/02/stars-at-night-are-big-and-bright.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2008/07/camping-we-will-go.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HERE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2008/08/never-ending-line.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;HERE&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; about &lt;del&gt;my little Sonic addiction&lt;/del&gt; how I like Sonic, so they invited my family out to dinner last night. I didn't want to hurt their feelings or anything, so I agreed. It had nothing to do with the fact that a large diet cherry limeade was calling my name. Oh who am I kidding! I've been addicted to Sonic since I visited my friend Kelli in Corpus Christi and she took me there. I'd always seen the commercials for Sonic, but had never been to one. Wait, let me rephrase that - Sonic has taunted me with their commercials for years. They've made my mouth water and made me want to drive to the nearest Sonic. The only problem is that, until recently, the nearest Sonic was several hours away!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of the commercials, I met Molly and Claudia from the Sonic commercials last night at the Algonquin Sonic. I think I'm going to have to make my own Sonic commercial. I can sit in a car while drinking some Sonic goodness and chatting! Why not?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sih9ka1BwLI/AAAAAAAAF6U/xcTtPzUK3bc/s1600-h/NewImage.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343659022505590962" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sih9ka1BwLI/AAAAAAAAF6U/xcTtPzUK3bc/s320/NewImage.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Molly, me, and Claudia &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, we're wearing jackets in June. It was only 55 degrees yesterday evening. (What is the deal with my hair??? I have wings! Ugh)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, we got to Sonic and enjoyed our yummilicious dinner. I had a grilled chicken wrap and a diet cherry limeade because I was trying to be good. You know, since I tried on my shorts from last summer and they didn't so much fit. With any luck, the temps will stay under 60 degrees and I'll never have to put them on. :::sigh:::&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, we enjoyed our dinners. Well, I'm guessing Austin and Savannah enjoyed theirs, but I'm not sure since they sat at their own "too cool to sit with anyone else" table and ate while Savannah played with her iPod and Austin read Harry Potter for the 80th time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Lexi, Brooklyn and Clay did the limbo under the menu board until Lexi forgot to duck and smacked her head. A free root beer float made it all better though. :) Thank you Anita and gang for the invite, the delicious Sonic yumminess, and all the Sonic goodies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't find my camera when it was time to leave, and I only had the stinky camera on my phone. (BTW, when we got home, I found my camera in the bag where it's supposed to be. What idiot put it there?!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know what I just realized?  That picture of Austin to the left there was taken at Sonic!  Notice the blue coconut slushie tongue!  LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiiP-bO-S3I/AAAAAAAAF6s/oVLGUf_3jq4/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343679260500314994" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiiP-bO-S3I/AAAAAAAAF6s/oVLGUf_3jq4/s320/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiiP-N-NJ1I/AAAAAAAAF6k/WH8TTHyAjGI/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343679256940324690" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiiP-N-NJ1I/AAAAAAAAF6k/WH8TTHyAjGI/s320/026.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiiP-BYECpI/AAAAAAAAF6c/wauiMfSVKoI/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343679253559118482" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiiP-BYECpI/AAAAAAAAF6c/wauiMfSVKoI/s320/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/4732255176396931795-6349485989612866587?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/mmmmm-sonic.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sih9ka1BwLI/AAAAAAAAF6U/xcTtPzUK3bc/s72-c/NewImage.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">31</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4732255176396931795.post-7089034558444441154</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Jun 2009 06:19:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2009-06-04T02:23:43.500-05:00</atom:updated><title>Ocean on a Plate</title><description>Last weekend, I went downtown with some friends to celebrate a friend's birthday. I snapped these pictures out the window of the cab on the way to the restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiduwtM3asI/AAAAAAAAF6E/xwyIVBflgYo/s1600-h/053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343361265944718018" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiduwtM3asI/AAAAAAAAF6E/xwyIVBflgYo/s320/053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sidt76uwsbI/AAAAAAAAF58/NXn6TRGd6fM/s1600-h/052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343360359043477938" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sidt76uwsbI/AAAAAAAAF58/NXn6TRGd6fM/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/_0p-trbcKhm8/SidsFT2qjjI/AAAAAAAAF5M/taJ7uwfoaTA/s1600-h/055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343358321383083570" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SidsFT2qjjI/AAAAAAAAF5M/taJ7uwfoaTA/s320/055.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sidt7R47W4I/AAAAAAAAF5s/LNEFQ814Tcs/s1600-h/063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343360348080266114" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sidt7R47W4I/AAAAAAAAF5s/LNEFQ814Tcs/s320/063.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this name sound familiar? Name the sitcom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sidt7L_x3DI/AAAAAAAAF5k/zjck_HruNpo/s1600-h/065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343360346498391090" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Sidt7L_x3DI/AAAAAAAAF5k/zjck_HruNpo/s320/065.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sign was on the door inside the bathroom at the train station. It cracked me up. Just what exactly do stolen purses do to make one beware of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siduw_rPpcI/AAAAAAAAF6M/4Xln5YnIYH4/s1600-h/051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343361270903973314" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/Siduw_rPpcI/AAAAAAAAF6M/4Xln5YnIYH4/s320/051.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why you should always listen to your waiter when he explains the special. You should ask questions if you don't understand. Don't just assume that the "seafood special" contains little bits of lobster and shrimp and clams amid some pasta with a light sauce. Sometimes the "seafood special" actually means "ocean on a plate". This picture was actually taken after I'd finished eating. There were even more dead sea creatures on my plate to begin with. Half a lobster, clams, mussels, calamari, shrimp, chunks of some sort of icky fish...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SidsGBsf_GI/AAAAAAAAF5c/NO0-NXc_GWA/s1600-h/075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343358333688478818" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SidsGBsf_GI/AAAAAAAAF5c/NO0-NXc_GWA/s320/075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself feeling sorry for this lobster. I mean he was cut in half. I think the rest of his little lobster body was over on my friend, Julie's plate. And he was covered in sauce. I mean, COVERED! There was no way I was going to try to crack that thing open or I'd have flung sauce all over myself and probably at least the 5 or 6 people sitting closest to me because I'm just classy like that. Next time, I'm ordering the gnocchi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SidsF7X0QjI/AAAAAAAAF5U/bYQYCT7-ZQg/s1600-h/077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343358331991114290" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SidsF7X0QjI/AAAAAAAAF5U/bYQYCT7-ZQg/s320/077.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~&lt;br /&gt;And here's the winner of the year's supply of Kraft macaroni and cheese...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random Integer Generator&lt;br /&gt;Here are your random numbers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42&lt;br /&gt;Timestamp: 2009-06-04 07:16:43 UTC&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vanessa said...&lt;br /&gt;1 year...OMG...that would be a LIFESAVER!!!!! My kids eat it EVERY DAY...seriously. They like it the old fashioned way...just like the box directions. I even sneak a few bites here and there...talk about comfort food! :)&lt;br /&gt;Vanessa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Congratulations! Email me with your shipping address and we'll get the mac-n-cheese out to you right away. Thank you to everyone who left a comment!&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/4732255176396931795-7089034558444441154?l=mom2my6pack.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://mom2my6pack.blogspot.com/2009/06/ocean-on-plate.html</link><author>mom2my6pack@aol.com (Dawn)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_0p-trbcKhm8/SiduwtM3asI/AAAAAAAAF6E/xwyIVBflgYo/s72-c/053.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">33</thr:total></item></channel></rss>
