<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:15:06.325-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life and the Men I love</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>258</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7794368421990532398</id><published>2008-09-14T23:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T00:04:34.327-04:00</updated><title type='text'>HEELLLLLOOOOOO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well hello there strangers. Its been along time since I have heard from you all. What on earth have you all been doing? If you all would get off of your lazy bums and post more often, perhaps I wouldn't have to wonder how you have been or whats been going on in your lives. ;O) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Our household has been bbbbuusssssyyyyy! I have not had much of a chance to get on the computer at home or at work. I have been training at work, and I don't think "training" means teaching one how to spend hours searching for the end of the internet. When I am not doing something productive at home, I am either sleeping, or making sure someone else is being productive. I feel a bit like a dominatrix cracking that whip, except for the leather clothes and gag. :O) All though, that gag could come in handy some days. Note to self....Make road trip to Olivia's. Whoa, hello there. Forgot I had an audience. We have been cleaning, gutting, fixing, plumbing and roofing. Just to name a few things. Everyone here is still alive. I have allowed them to live another day. :o) God has blessed me with a teenager, a terrible two year old, a roofing hating husband, a psychotic old dog, a yappy little dog, a big dumb dog and b**chy old cat. Thank you Lord. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Tanner started 7th grade. He is not loving it, but did any of us at that age? He is going through all those fun changes and still thinks his parents are lame. I am guessing that will be on going for the next 5-10 years or so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Colter turned two on the 5th. He is still my little angel, only now his horns are poking through. He has most of his teeth, talks up a storm and continuously amazes me with how smart he is. We had a big party for him last weekend. It was great that almost everyone could come. I cooked for an army and got some good reviews. I think I may have surprised a few folks with my abilities. ;O) Colter got lots of TRUCKS!! That is what he is loving right now. He also got an electric atv ride on from his super rad parents. Colter had a great time at his party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Al and I had our 9 year wedding anniversary on the 11th. Al bought me a nice antique hutch. He's a great hubby. We decided instead of going out for supper together, we would make it a family affair and take the boys with us. After all, it was the day that we became a family. We enjoyed a meal at the local mexican restaurant. Al and I decided that for our 10 year, we may actually try to do something special. Like revisit the cabin we stayed in for our honeymoon. But that is a story for next year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Well, I am going to leave you with a few pictures.........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Birthday pics&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 2 year old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246090511996977714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3bhpMggjI/AAAAAAAAAq8/OUrJ8WwmIfI/s320/100_1087.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Presents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246090532438507618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3bi1WJgGI/AAAAAAAAArU/85l_8kUfJDw/s320/100_1100.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246090519261097314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3biEQaLWI/AAAAAAAAArM/4f6SeuvEedc/s320/100_1099.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246090515921315586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3bh30JJwI/AAAAAAAAArE/vYRgBkmz9Kk/s320/100_1089.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Testing them all out&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246090535852198098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3bjCECSNI/AAAAAAAAArc/hK7f3xLvHN4/s320/100_1101.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Truck cake&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246090756230498466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3bv3CUSKI/AAAAAAAAArk/OjISPipbNp0/s320/100_1088.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The teenager&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091404867740466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3cVnZfIzI/AAAAAAAAArs/8LPshdcu5H8/s320/100_1041.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Look mom, just like my daddy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091413307585522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3cWG1s8_I/AAAAAAAAAr0/5ZL94lJFXBY/s320/100_1033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091418590010306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3cWahIW8I/AAAAAAAAAr8/fgRNYLGNalU/s320/100_1035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091428557909746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3cW_pqbvI/AAAAAAAAAsE/rruaErnlHP0/s320/100_1038.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Later Gators!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246091430876532498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3cXISdzxI/AAAAAAAAAsM/uVKZTM8vG2g/s320/100_1055.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7794368421990532398?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7794368421990532398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7794368421990532398&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7794368421990532398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7794368421990532398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/09/heellllloooooo.html' title='HEELLLLLOOOOOO'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SM3bhpMggjI/AAAAAAAAAq8/OUrJ8WwmIfI/s72-c/100_1087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5251934962491850346</id><published>2008-07-13T11:09:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:28.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>birthday boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SHobCqi1HuI/AAAAAAAAApk/QkZi5cKMS-U/s1600-h/100_1008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222516450483576546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SHobCqi1HuI/AAAAAAAAApk/QkZi5cKMS-U/s320/100_1008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's official.  We have a teenager in the house.  Tanner's 13th birthday was on Wednesday.  I suppose this means he is technically 14 now.  :O)  Even though his birthday was only one day, it seems he has been celebrating or 2 weeks now.  He has been a bit spoiled this year, but he deserves it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;His super cool parents helped him by a PSP and some games for it.  He has been wanting one for ever and now he finally has it.  He carries it every where.  I think it is starting to grow into his hand.   On Monday, we wanted to take Colter to the zoo and forced Tanner to go along.  He had a good time, but he wanted to eat at Chucky Cheese.  More like, he want to play at Chucky Cheese.  So we took the boys there and Tanner played all the games while Colter rode the same rides over and over.  Afterwards, we stopped at Barnes &amp;amp; Noble, where Tanner then conned Dad into buying him a book.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Tuesday, aunt Stacy dropped of a card with money and cupcakes, which didn't take long for him to consume.  Wednesday morning, I trashed his room by filling it up with balloons, streamers and a birthday sign.  His great aunt dropped of a card with more cash.  By noon, a card from the step grandparents had arrived, and it was filled with even more cash.  I was going to cook Tanner's fav supper of enchilada's, but we started working on the kitchen and it was a mess.  Instead, I let him decide where he wanted to eat.  He picked pizza from the gas station and we pigged out.  After supper, his Grandma Judy &amp;amp; Grandpa Chuck showed up with even more money.  Including some from his Great Grandma Billie.  They stayed and helped Tanner eat some off his cake and ice cream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After all this fun, you would think that would be the end of it.  Nope.  His friend wanted to take him to the boat races in chamberlain for his birthday.  So, that is what he is doing this weekend.  He should be back sometime today.  I am sure this will not be the end of it.  We want him to have a party with his buddies, but the two he really wants to be there are out of town for a while.  So I am sure sometime in August, we will be celebrating yet again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Have a great week.  Oh yeah.  I would also like to wish a Happy Belated Birthday to Tess.  She and Tanner share the day.  I won't tell your age though!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5251934962491850346?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5251934962491850346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5251934962491850346&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5251934962491850346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5251934962491850346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/07/birthday-boy.html' title='birthday boy'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SHobCqi1HuI/AAAAAAAAApk/QkZi5cKMS-U/s72-c/100_1008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8455613890888911210</id><published>2008-07-13T10:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:28.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen progress</title><content type='html'>Thought I would throw out a quick update on the kitchen progress. We actually worked on it a couple of days this last week and accomplished a lot. All of the cabinets are now in. Most of the handles are on. Some of the back splash has been installed. And we started working on the floor. I'll probably jinx myself by stating the following. We should be able to finish installing the floor tomorrow. Al said he was going to get my sink in this week. I plan to have the rest of the pulls put on this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If these goals are accomplished, all that will remain is the trim &amp;amp; finishing touches. And then organizing my kitchen. And getting rid of the boxes!!!! Yeah!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are a couple pics of the progress.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222515783244864306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SHoab04uWzI/AAAAAAAAApU/8YKA-bAomww/s320/100_1013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222515787064851170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SHoacDHeuuI/AAAAAAAAApc/BCK-AAWrzzc/s320/100_1012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8455613890888911210?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8455613890888911210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8455613890888911210&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8455613890888911210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8455613890888911210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/07/kitchen-progress.html' title='Kitchen progress'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SHoab04uWzI/AAAAAAAAApU/8YKA-bAomww/s72-c/100_1013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1490244273136631366</id><published>2008-07-13T10:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T10:56:21.938-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-b4.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=144115188093609652&amp;amp;site=widget-b4.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=144115188093609652&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-b4.slide.com/p1/144115188093609652/bb_t005_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=144115188093609652&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-b4.slide.com/p2/144115188093609652/bb_t005_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;at=un&amp;id=144115188093609652&amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-b4.slide.com/p4/144115188093609652/bb_t005_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/4404128126607392760-1490244273136631366?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1490244273136631366/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1490244273136631366&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1490244273136631366'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1490244273136631366'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/07/zoo.html' title='The Zoo'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3929176065479987675</id><published>2008-07-06T11:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T11:42:16.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July</title><content type='html'>We had a great 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July.  Did I mention its one of my favorite days of the year?  Well, it is.  Everything about it is just great.  The fireworks, grilled food, warm weather and a day of fun in the sun.  Of all of the holidays, I have the best memories of the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can remember waking up early and setting up to start shooting fireworks.  Mom wouldn't let us start until after 8am.  People could still be sleeping.  At exactly 8am, the fireworks would start.  We would shoot fireworks all morning then take a break to eat.  Dad would grill burgers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hot dogs&lt;/span&gt;.  After dinner, the fireworks continued.  By now, it was time to start getting creative.  Just shooting them wasn't as fun.  It was time to blow stuff up.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Hot wheels&lt;/span&gt;, pop cans, roadkill...anything was fair game.  After all the destruction, we took another break for supper and waited anxiously for dark to shoot the fun stuff.  I always had such a good time.  Even the time I almost blew my fingers off and the time my brother's friend started my hair on fire.  Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year we spent the day out at the lake at a friends place.  We grilled, shot fireworks, enjoyed a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;totties&lt;/span&gt; and I relaxed.  It was extra special this year because Tanner was here.  It has been a few years since he has been home on the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  We went all out and got him a ton of fireworks.  He had a blast (no pun intended) lighting them all.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt; enjoyed the snaps, but was a little unsure of the smoke bombs.  He was a bit frightened by all of the loud fireworks, but seemed fine as long as he could sit in my lap.  I brought his playpen so I could lay him down in the house if he got tired, but he was not about to let me leave.  So I pushed a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;love seat&lt;/span&gt; over to the window and held him while we watched Al and Tanner shoot off all the fun stuff.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt; and I made it back to town around midnight and Al and Tanner came home shortly after. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think everyone had a great time.  I know Tanner did, and that is really all that mattered.  I hope you all had a happy and safe 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3929176065479987675?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3929176065479987675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3929176065479987675&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3929176065479987675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3929176065479987675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/07/4th-of-july.html' title='4th of July'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5500762444656220185</id><published>2008-07-02T04:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T05:00:25.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanner's visit</title><content type='html'>Its late.  I have something on my mind.  Its bothering me.  I have purposely kept my rants of this kind from becoming a post.  I don't intend to make it a habit, but I hope putting it out there will help, at least for tonight.  So I can get some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanner just came back from a 2 week stay at his moms.  He generally stays for a better part of the summer, but this year he didn't want to.  We have been telling him its his decision.  We don't want to keep him from his mom, but at the same time, if he doesn't want to go, we stand behind him. Its come to a point were I am ready to say no more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason his summer stays are becoming shorter are because of the mental abuse he has to endure while he is there.  His step dad is not very nice to him.  He does things to deliberately be mean to Tanner.  Here is what Tanner told me about his most recent visit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First night there...All the family are enjoying an ice cream bar.  Step dad tells Tanner he doesn't get one.  Just because Tanner was clipping his toenails and didn't come immediately when called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, Tanner wanted to go over to a buddies house.  5 year old brother wants to go with and Tanner says no.  Next day, Tanner is eating cereal and trying to feed 5 month old sister.  He asks his 5 year old brother to hold the bottle until he finishes his cereal.  Brother yells down to step dad asking if he has to feed sister.  Step dad says no.  Tanner asks if he can just hold it until he finishes breakfast.  Step dad says no.  Brother shouldn't have to help you because you wouldn't take him with you to your friends house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the one thing that really burns my bottom.....Tanner has a name when he is there.  And its not Tanner.  Its retard.  Tanner said he was only called by his real name may be 3 times.  Step dad got mad because he didn't come right away when called retard.  Step dad says you will come when I call your name.  And that name is retard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What does his mom say about all this?  Nobody is forcing you to come here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I say about all this?  Somebody may just start forcing you to stay here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To step dad....Your a real big man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5500762444656220185?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5500762444656220185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5500762444656220185&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5500762444656220185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5500762444656220185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/07/tanners-visit.html' title='Tanner&apos;s visit'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8646192408197653638</id><published>2008-06-29T13:57:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:30.441-05:00</updated><title type='text'>*FLOWERS*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I thought you all might like to see just what has been keeping me so darn busy.....&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN3ocROqI/AAAAAAAAAok/TlxYYep_2hM/s1600-h/100_0942.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217365048964496034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN3ocROqI/AAAAAAAAAok/TlxYYep_2hM/s320/100_0942.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Flowers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN5Z4zvEI/AAAAAAAAAos/HBJZ26ywEyQ/s1600-h/100_0944.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217365079417404482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN5Z4zvEI/AAAAAAAAAos/HBJZ26ywEyQ/s320/100_0944.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Flowers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN6G8ZriI/AAAAAAAAAo0/SVBXSmZ6Vsc/s1600-h/100_0948.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217365091512069666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN6G8ZriI/AAAAAAAAAo0/SVBXSmZ6Vsc/s320/100_0948.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Flowers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN7NAOudI/AAAAAAAAAo8/HNyOYZwj30Y/s1600-h/100_0949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217365110318610898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN7NAOudI/AAAAAAAAAo8/HNyOYZwj30Y/s320/100_0949.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And more flowers!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN76EvAuI/AAAAAAAAApE/9BnlGzF1QGc/s1600-h/100_0950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217365122417099490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN76EvAuI/AAAAAAAAApE/9BnlGzF1QGc/s320/100_0950.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My flower/gardening fetish just came out of no where a few years ago. If you know me personally, I am sure you would never have expected this from me. My mom says she thinks I come by it naturally. Apparently there were some great gardeners in the old family tree. Unfortunately, I didn't get to know any of my grandmother's, so I didn't pick it up from them. Mom always had tulips, but she never did much gardening. I personally think I have some subconscious telling me to do things people would not expect. I always seem to be full of surprises. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have been trying to clean up around the house and make it look better. Even though it still needs paint, I must be doing something right. There seems to be a lot of lookie lou's lately. It could be my mad gardening skills (cough) or my sexy legs (choke). May be its disbelief that someone would stick money into the old house. My best guess would be that they are checking out this cute little guy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217365397589163810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfOL7K3fyI/AAAAAAAAApM/EnAg6aYnKEM/s320/100_0945.JPG" border="0" /&gt;He is a pretty good helper. I would hate to loose him to one of the psycho old lady stalkers. I might have to put up an electric fence to keep him safe and keep them out! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have a great week ya'll!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8646192408197653638?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8646192408197653638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8646192408197653638&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8646192408197653638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8646192408197653638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/06/flowers.html' title='*FLOWERS*'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGfN3ocROqI/AAAAAAAAAok/TlxYYep_2hM/s72-c/100_0942.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2681130088778184008</id><published>2008-06-28T14:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:30.895-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Good morning ya'll. Or afternoon, or evening, or whatever time of day it may be. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed doesn't seem to effect my day much anymore. Thats because I am lucky enough to see this guy every morning.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217006254297660658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGaHjCJnPPI/AAAAAAAAAoM/jcv90GCC7-M/s320/100_0951.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;He smiles even if I wake him up.  (He does not get that from me!)  Heck, he smiles and laughs all the time.  Its hard not to smile when he is around.   ~Lucky girl~ thats me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2681130088778184008?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2681130088778184008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2681130088778184008&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2681130088778184008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2681130088778184008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/06/good-morning-yall.html' title=''/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SGaHjCJnPPI/AAAAAAAAAoM/jcv90GCC7-M/s72-c/100_0951.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8311459521963854100</id><published>2008-06-21T12:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T14:22:55.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer days</title><content type='html'>A big hello to all!  I hope everyone is doing well.  I hope I can get a chance to get around to every one's blog and get caught up again.  I will most likely continue to be hit and miss for a while.  I hope you will not forget about me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the past month, we have all been staying busy with work, play, funerals, sickness, helping people shingle and all the other wonderful things life brings us.  We are still having plenty of laughs and keeping our sanity.  Life is always interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being surrounded by men, I have become somewhat of an expert on their ways.  For instance...  We all know that by the time a man reaches adulthood, he has developed selective hearing syndrome.  While a boy is still pre-teen, you may notice signs of the syndrome starting to take effect.  If your pre-teen boy says huh or what, after everything you say, then your boy is well on his way to joining the ranks of his forefathers.  Those huh's and what's are the practice that leads up to the nods and yes dears.  Okay, so you say you all ready knew all this.  But did you know, that your precious little toddler is also in the early stages of selective hearing syndrome?  Of course you did.  That is why when you are telling your adorable little toddler how it is or something he doesn't want to hear, he just covers his ears with his hands.  He does this, because he has not yet learned that this will generally make a woman more angry.  All though, when your still an adorable toddler, you may get away with it more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another manly wonder I have become accustom to, is their ability to regress back into a small child whenever they become sick.  I know all you woman are saying "uh-hu".  Men, stop denying, you know you do.  Woman on the other hand, can never be sick.  And if they are, they better get out their super hero cape.  A house can not function with out mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week, my wonderful toddler so graciously shared his cold with me.  The night before we were going to head to Menards, I had a hard time sleeping.  I was so plugged up, that I slept on the couch so I could prop myself up.  My loving husband was concerned and thought perhaps we should not go to Menards the next day.  I told him we were going because we had been planning it for so long.  We were also going to meet Tanner's mom so he could visit her for a couple weeks.  So the next day, we headed to sioux falls.  I popped a couple of cold pills in the hopes of feeling better.  I did for an hour or so.  Then it just hit me.  I don't know how long we were in that store.   I thought I was going to die.  I had a major headache, the chills, and no energy.  I just wanted to go home or sit down, but I felt guilty, so I somehow managed to keep my feet moving.  Very slowly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an eternity of torture, we were heading home.  I made Al drive, which should be a neon sign as to just how sick I was.  (If you have never rode with him, I certainly wouldn't recommend it.)  Once home, I got out my big comforter and laid on the couch.  Colter used me as a jungle gym, but I didn't really care.  I just wanted to stay there and melt into the couch.  Colter managed to figure out how to put his finger in his throat and gag himself.  Why he thought it was funny, I'll never know.  I tried to deter him by telling him no, but I was to weak to grab his hand away from his mouth.  He continued to do it, until he threw up all over me and my blanket.  Fantastic.  It took all I could muster to get my blanket to the wash, get him to bed and find myself a new blanket.  By the time Al came back into the house, I was a pile of mush and just didn't want to move.  He tried to get me to go to bed, but I was not going any where.  Al then kindly told me how great I looked and thought perhaps I should go to the hospital.  I was obviously dying.  Mom's are never sick like that.  I tried to assure him that I was going to live. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still fighting this nasty cold, but I can at least function again.  So, I guess life is back to normal.  I don't know when I will find time to post again.  Hope everyone is enjoying their summers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8311459521963854100?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8311459521963854100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8311459521963854100&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8311459521963854100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8311459521963854100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/06/summer-days.html' title='Summer days'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1987622344527699322</id><published>2008-06-06T12:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:32.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Alive</title><content type='html'>There has been so much going on in Miah land lately. I am trying to get caught back up on everyone's blogs. I hope you are all well. I leave you with a few pictures......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Awesome Memorial Day display&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208807723113940450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnBteEheI/AAAAAAAAAnk/LUe0YetRNP0/s320/100_0923.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Yet another fab pic of brothers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnCfy9QwI/AAAAAAAAAns/gkqs6tkUmjc/s1600-h/100_0926.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208807736623317762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnCfy9QwI/AAAAAAAAAns/gkqs6tkUmjc/s320/100_0926.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want to help mom!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnC1pBgKI/AAAAAAAAAn0/CHXbDPtRXwE/s1600-h/100_0934.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208807742487232674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnC1pBgKI/AAAAAAAAAn0/CHXbDPtRXwE/s320/100_0934.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Wait a minute, I need to check this out first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnDeCUcDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/RqCJ9CbH_T0/s1600-h/100_0932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208807753330749490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnDeCUcDI/AAAAAAAAAn8/RqCJ9CbH_T0/s320/100_0932.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Astila Vista Baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnDw-9OEI/AAAAAAAAAoE/m7CXLFYhDmc/s1600-h/100_0928.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208807758416918594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnDw-9OEI/AAAAAAAAAoE/m7CXLFYhDmc/s320/100_0928.JPG" border="0" /&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/4404128126607392760-1987622344527699322?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1987622344527699322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1987622344527699322&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1987622344527699322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1987622344527699322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/06/still-alive.html' title='Still Alive'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SElnBteEheI/AAAAAAAAAnk/LUe0YetRNP0/s72-c/100_0923.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6678782339877233551</id><published>2008-05-18T10:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T12:54:53.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BMX Superstar</title><content type='html'>Friday night, Colter and I went for yet another walk. I decided to take it out of my neighborhood for a change of scenery. I have been stalking houses looking at the landscaping and getting ideas. I like to stay in the "older" parts of town. The trees are large and many of the flowers are what grandma would have had. Right up my alley.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I passed the Kerrie Meyer residence and her door was open. I saw movement, so I yelled Kerrie Meyer Rocks. No one came running out, so I assumed they thought there was some crazy outside and went into hiding. :O) We did manage to get into one house.....but it was family. They didn't have much of a choice. After visiting with family for a bit, I decided to head back home. Colter was getting tired and so was I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were a block from home, I see the naughty little neighbor kids are out. Naughty, because I don't think they have much adult supervision. One of the boy's starts yelling at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Hey! Will you watch me? I want to show you something.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (argh.) What do you want to show me?&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Just watch. (dragging a ramp out to the sidewalk.) I can jump this on my bike.&lt;br /&gt;Me: (Oh!) You should be careful. You could get hurt.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: No I won't. I have done it before.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay. Be careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I continue walking, because I really don't want to witness this kid crack his skull open. And I really just want to get home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I'm ready. Are you going to watch me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awe fiddle sticks! I could tell this kid was just dying for some attention. I very well couldn't just ignore him. So I stopped and turned around to watch him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay. I'm watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He rides like mad, gets to the ramp and his bike gets stuck on the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Good Job!&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I can do better. I can go much higher. Do you want to see? Please?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay. Lets see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, he rides like mad and this time he clears the ramp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (clapping.) Wow! That was great! Your pretty darn good. You better keep practicing. Some day when your a famous BMX superstar, I want your autograph.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: I can do it with no hands. Will you watch me?&lt;br /&gt;Me: (I had to draw the line here.) No way. I don't want to see that. That would scare me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn around and take off for home, as quickly as I can. I am trying to make my escape. The boy comes riding his bike past me and turns the corner. When I get to the corner, I turn the opposite way, because my house is across the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy: Where are you going?&lt;br /&gt;Me: I have to go home.&lt;br /&gt;Boy: You do?&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt so bad for the little guy. He seemed very bummed that he couldn't follow me on my walk. He was obviously desperate for some attention. I hope our 10 minutes of interaction made him feel good, but I know it was no where near enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6678782339877233551?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6678782339877233551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6678782339877233551&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6678782339877233551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6678782339877233551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/05/bmx-superstar.html' title='BMX Superstar'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3088384562454891908</id><published>2008-05-17T10:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T10:43:52.329-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lovey Dovey Curtain</title><content type='html'>My Mission?  Buy el cheapo shower curtain.  Why el cheapo?  Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a boys bathroom.  Not exactly a glamorous setting.  Far from spa like.  The floors are covered with a hideous linoleum.  The walls?  Some kind of board that looks like it was suppose to have looked like fake brick at one time.  Now it is covered with layers of paint.  The sink is old and has what looks like legs from a walker.  Their purpose?  Not sure, but I assume it is to hold the sink up.  The best feature of the bathroom?  The shower. :O0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone really handy installed the shower.  It is obvious that at one time there was a claw foot tub.  It was replaced at some point with another tub.  A half wall had to be put in to accommodate the knobs and faucet.  I am not sure what type of material they used to build that wall.  I don't think they wanted anyone to know, because they covered it with contact paper that is suppose to look like wood grain.  Pretty.  Later, someone decided they wanted a shower.  If your going to have a shower, you need curtains.  So, rather than make walls and have some type of surround, they rigged up some rods that form a circle all the way around the tub.  The rods are held up by 1/4in cotton rope that is tied to hooks in the ceiling.  Because of the lack of wall to hold the shower head, they decided going with the wand type would be best. Soon, they realized that holding the wand over their head made their arms very tired.  So what better way to fix that problem then to get a board, attach it to the super curtain rod and drill a hole in it so the shower head could be fixed to it.  The duct tape is to help keep it from falling through that hole. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the boys bathroom has the hillbilly theme, I am sticking to el cheapo curtains.  I found some real cheapies at the dollar store and picked up three of them.  Three because I have to go all the way around the tub.  Once I got them home, I threw them on a shelf and forgot about them for a while.  When I finally thought about them and had a moment, I put them up.  Apparently, they were so thankful, because they have been trying to suffocate the whole family with big bear hugs every time you are in there.  How awful they must feel at the constant whining and punching that they receive when they try to show their love.  No one in the house feels the love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor shower curtains.  Perhaps I will let them stay a few more days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3088384562454891908?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3088384562454891908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3088384562454891908&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3088384562454891908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3088384562454891908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/05/lovey-dovey-curtain.html' title='Lovey Dovey Curtain'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6196265307630521466</id><published>2008-05-16T14:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T14:29:10.950-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Attempting to get a hello........I could'a had'a V8.&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7ef12d4003e5963d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7ef12d4003e5963d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330258300%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D446E80CA93EA89595187573A4CD5C92E8B8D7828.820635FE971A7F7D7A391F246F5CA9090B7BFE2E%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7ef12d4003e5963d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DIi2asXshjjSqV70H6gEY-dWkDkc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v21.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7ef12d4003e5963d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330258300%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D446E80CA93EA89595187573A4CD5C92E8B8D7828.820635FE971A7F7D7A391F246F5CA9090B7BFE2E%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7ef12d4003e5963d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DIi2asXshjjSqV70H6gEY-dWkDkc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6196265307630521466?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7ef12d4003e5963d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6196265307630521466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6196265307630521466&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6196265307630521466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6196265307630521466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/05/attempting-to-get-hello.html' title=''/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5890787525097367794</id><published>2008-05-11T12:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T12:55:13.923-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;To all of the Mother's, expecting Mother's, Grandmother's and Step-Mother's out there.... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy Mother's Day!!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;An extra special Mother's day wish to my Mom and my Mother-in-law!!  These are two very special women in my life.  Both have given me life, just in very different ways.  I can never thank them enough and I hope they know just how much they mean to me and how much they are loved.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Love ya Mom &amp;amp; Ma B (or S)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You Rock!!&lt;/strong&gt;&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/4404128126607392760-5890787525097367794?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5890787525097367794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5890787525097367794&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5890787525097367794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5890787525097367794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4366049926276173182</id><published>2008-05-08T16:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T12:38:12.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Howdy</title><content type='html'>I am getting horrible at updating. I know this. My family has been holding me hostage. Well...the 1 1/2 year old has been anyway. I love being outdoors, but he is an addict.  His every waking hour is spent outside, or trying to convince me we need to go there.  I am enjoying it though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a couple of years since I have been able to work in the yard.  Believe that I have been stalking the yard/garden isle for months now.  Every green house has been receiving a visit from me at least twice a week.  Sometimes twice a day. :O)  When I am not chasing Colter around, I am thinking about what I can put in my yard.  I have lots of idea's, but no where near enough funds to complete them all now.  Besides, what fun would that be?  What would I do next year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colter's vocabulary is constantly growing.  I would say he says at least 30 words.  Some of those, only mom understands.  He says a couple of two word phrases like....oh no, all gone and where at.  And of course he jabbers up a storm.  He witnessed mom talking with her hands a while back, and now he likes to jabber and move his hands like mom did.  He saw his dad spit and now he imitates that.  However, he doesn't actually spit, he just looks down and says blah blah.  He cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All is well at the homestead.  We have just been getting out and enjoying some fresh air.  Hope all is good with you all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4366049926276173182?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4366049926276173182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4366049926276173182&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4366049926276173182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4366049926276173182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/05/howdy.html' title='Howdy'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5308886891681329838</id><published>2008-04-26T15:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T15:20:46.704-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Showers....</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone. We are still staying very busy. Rather than one long rambling post, I did a few different ones today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year, we have wanted to attend the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Kingswood&lt;/span&gt; rummages to see what all the fuss is about. Every year, I find out about them at the last minute and don't get a chance to go. This year, I did my research and found out when they were in advance. I took Thursday, the 24&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; off so we could go. Lucky me, the day we picked to go, there was a monsoon. We went anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The morning started off well, but after an hour or so, it unleashed. We were about 6 blocks from my jeep and decided to run for it. Unfortunately, I got stuck at a busy intersection and the motorists did not feel sorry for me. The just kept on speeding by, splashing up water all the way. By the time I finally made it back to the jeep, it was to late. I looked like I had just jumped into a swimming pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rather than let it dampen our spirits, we headed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; for some dry clothes, umbrella's &amp;amp; poncho's. After we found the much need gear, we headed back out. This time, only our calves and feet got wet. Al and I compared it to playing in the rain like we did when we were kids. Because of the rain, we did not hit nearly as many sales as we would have liked to. I didn't find a single thing for myself. But despite all of that, we had a blast. I can't wait to do it again next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5308886891681329838?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5308886891681329838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5308886891681329838&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5308886891681329838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5308886891681329838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/spring-showers.html' title='Spring Showers....'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4803414778383047627</id><published>2008-04-26T14:22:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:32.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring time in SD</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;For those who don't know what spring time in SD is like....&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBN31hTnaAI/AAAAAAAAAnU/IgTU0Yt_q2Y/s1600-h/100_0886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193626556645730306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBN31hTnaAI/AAAAAAAAAnU/IgTU0Yt_q2Y/s320/100_0886.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; That date is no typo....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBN32RTnaBI/AAAAAAAAAnc/DjbiIUPTko8/s1600-h/100_0884.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193626569530632210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBN32RTnaBI/AAAAAAAAAnc/DjbiIUPTko8/s320/100_0884.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The weather man said chance of rain/snow mix.  No accumulation expected.  The ground is to warm.  You should receive a Budweiser toast as a real man of genius.  Because of you, Mr weather man, I wore my blue foam shoes.  Croc's as you may know them.  Croc's minus socks.  Only you could predict no accumulation.  Leaving many unsuspecting, trusting listeners to go into work expecting nothing.  Only to come out to something.  And not just a little something.  A whole foot of something.  White blowing flakes of cold.  Cold that falls into the holes of blue foam shoes.  Cold flakes that seem to become even colder after they collide with sock less feet that cause them to melt.  Melting into puddles of freezing cold ice water.  Freezing the little tootsies of your faithful listeners.  Here's to you Mr weatherman.  One of a select few men who tell a lie to thousands without flinching.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4803414778383047627?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4803414778383047627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4803414778383047627&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4803414778383047627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4803414778383047627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/spring-time-in-sd.html' title='Spring time in SD'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBN31hTnaAI/AAAAAAAAAnU/IgTU0Yt_q2Y/s72-c/100_0886.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8671711751417680593</id><published>2008-04-26T13:58:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:33.028-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The kids</title><content type='html'>Not to much new as far as Tanner goes. He will be 13 in a few months. Those of you that have teenagers or remember that age, know what that means. Girls are now interesting, puberty s^cks, and parents are lame. The only other thing on his agenda at this time, is completing the hunter safety course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colter's vocabulary is growing right along with more teeth. He loves to play outside and is becoming a pro tantrum thrower. Melt downs occur every time we go in, get close to the door, or when mom pretends not to know why he is handing her his shoes. Mom is becoming a pro tantrum dis tractor. One episode was cured by making a chocolate pie. Colter got to lick off his first "spoon". Which of course, eventually lead to more melt downs. Good times!!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193620698310338546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNyghTnZ_I/AAAAAAAAAnM/7qpdQ_KqNME/s320/100_0883.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8671711751417680593?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8671711751417680593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8671711751417680593&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8671711751417680593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8671711751417680593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/kids.html' title='The kids'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNyghTnZ_I/AAAAAAAAAnM/7qpdQ_KqNME/s72-c/100_0883.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6239813698477969761</id><published>2008-04-26T13:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:34.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen progress</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;The kitchen has been coming along, slowly. It will be done someday. For now, I am happy that I have a few cabinets....&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoYxTnZ8I/AAAAAAAAAm0/1-UT7riYhs0/s1600-h/100_0881.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193609570050074562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoYxTnZ8I/AAAAAAAAAm0/1-UT7riYhs0/s320/100_0881.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Some counter top.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoZRTnZ9I/AAAAAAAAAm8/JRqBArOFBAM/s1600-h/100_0888.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193609578640009170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoZRTnZ9I/AAAAAAAAAm8/JRqBArOFBAM/s320/100_0888.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and something to cook with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoZhTnZ-I/AAAAAAAAAnE/OCBbvpUH7QY/s1600-h/100_0887.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193609582934976482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoZhTnZ-I/AAAAAAAAAnE/OCBbvpUH7QY/s320/100_0887.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am getting a bit anxious to get a sink back, but the above will pacify me for a bit. Al is going to have to call in a reinforcements to help him cut the rest of the counter top. He is not exactly fond of that task which causes him to speak in bizarre tongue. He is not excited that I threw a miter into the mix. Luckily, he has a relative who is an expert in diy home improvement. Hopefully, that relative will be willing to lend a hand, or some advice....for Al's sake. And for my SANITY!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6239813698477969761?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6239813698477969761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6239813698477969761&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6239813698477969761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6239813698477969761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/kitchen-progress.html' title='Kitchen progress'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNoYxTnZ8I/AAAAAAAAAm0/1-UT7riYhs0/s72-c/100_0881.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4588393723906089518</id><published>2008-04-26T13:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:36.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess Chopper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNkqhTnZ7I/AAAAAAAAAms/ynNUnesXWAM/s1600-h/100_0865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193605476946241458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNkqhTnZ7I/AAAAAAAAAms/ynNUnesXWAM/s320/100_0865.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; While demanding my attention this morning, I noticed that princess Chopper is starting to get white around the eyes. My little princess is starting to age. It made me shudder to think about her getting old. I love my princess like mad. Yes. I am one of those crazy folk who think their pets are their kids. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until next time.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4588393723906089518?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4588393723906089518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4588393723906089518&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4588393723906089518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4588393723906089518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/princess-chopper.html' title='Princess Chopper'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SBNkqhTnZ7I/AAAAAAAAAms/ynNUnesXWAM/s72-c/100_0865.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8951568538870495367</id><published>2008-04-18T10:41:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:36.405-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Swinging</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAiz3qCTkDI/AAAAAAAAAmk/ioyQQxAegcc/s1600-h/100_0856.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190596339302633522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAiz3qCTkDI/AAAAAAAAAmk/ioyQQxAegcc/s320/100_0856.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Big &amp;amp; small, having a ball&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8951568538870495367?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8951568538870495367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8951568538870495367&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8951568538870495367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8951568538870495367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/swinging.html' title='Swinging'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAiz3qCTkDI/AAAAAAAAAmk/ioyQQxAegcc/s72-c/100_0856.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7924282268302704903</id><published>2008-04-13T13:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:36.941-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kitchen</title><content type='html'>I have not had anytime to post lately. Well, I am sure that I could find a second, but I have been taking every opportunity mother nature has given to get outdoors. When I haven't been outside, working, chasing a toddler or cleaning, I have been trying to help Al get the kitchen done. We didn't have much of a kitchen before, but we have not had one at all for the past 3 weeks. Al has been working on it when ever he gets a chance, but he is not a huge fan of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mudding&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sheet rock&lt;/span&gt; part. So, that has taken him a bit longer. This week we should be able to get most of the cabinets set, hung and my stove back in there. No more to go food! I can only eat pizza and chicken so many times. Fast food is not even an option. Yuck!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is the kind of mess I have been dealing with the past few weeks.....&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAbKCTkAI/AAAAAAAAAmM/KcL_7Vg81XQ/s1600-h/100_0857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188780555978903554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAbKCTkAI/AAAAAAAAAmM/KcL_7Vg81XQ/s320/100_0857.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAbqCTkBI/AAAAAAAAAmU/3mxtbJ9Nsy4/s1600-h/100_0858.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188780564568838162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAbqCTkBI/AAAAAAAAAmU/3mxtbJ9Nsy4/s320/100_0858.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You have no idea how happy seeing painted walls has made me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAb6CTkCI/AAAAAAAAAmc/SeW4HSptjyA/s1600-h/100_0859.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188780568863805474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAb6CTkCI/AAAAAAAAAmc/SeW4HSptjyA/s320/100_0859.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the weather this week! They are talking 70 for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tuesday&lt;/span&gt;. It will be a great day to spend shopping with my Sis-n-law! I can't wait!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7924282268302704903?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7924282268302704903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7924282268302704903&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7924282268302704903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7924282268302704903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/kitchen.html' title='Kitchen'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/SAJAbKCTkAI/AAAAAAAAAmM/KcL_7Vg81XQ/s72-c/100_0857.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6042793215693734798</id><published>2008-04-03T15:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T15:28:20.674-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom email</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone.  I recieved an email that I would like to share with you.  I am sure most of you have seen this one before.  I know I have, but I think its a good one.....enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Being a MOM... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of 'starting a family.' 'We're taking a survey,' she says half-joking. 'Do you think I should have a baby?' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'It will change your life,' I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;'I know,' she says, 'no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations.' &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But that is not what I mean t at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, 'What if that had been MY child?' That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of 'Mom!' will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitat ion. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromanti c. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. 'You'll never regret it,' I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6042793215693734798?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6042793215693734798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6042793215693734798&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6042793215693734798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6042793215693734798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/04/mom-email.html' title='Mom email'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2407707233744971459</id><published>2008-03-28T21:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T21:39:09.392-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am in heaven</title><content type='html'>You may think (ok, know) that I am totally crazy, but I just took the most amazing shower ever.  No naughty thoughts here people.  Before I was ever married and certainly before I became pregnant, I had no idea just how much of a luxury taking a shower was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember a conversation that was had at a family dinner once.  It was before Al and I were married.  My dad had asked Al if I still took those 30 minute showers and wasted all the hot water.  (That was no joke.  I really did.)  Al replied back with something like....no she doesn't.  But she still wastes all the hot water.  When ever I shower with her, I almost end up in mckennan's burn unit.  (Also no joke.  I like it hot!)  At this point in the conversation, my Mom's eyeballs about popped out of her head.  I told her not to worry, we wore our swimming suits.  :O)  All though I am sure she knew better, that is what she wanted to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any how, the past 8 years or so, I have always felt rushed to get in, get out, and get the job done.  Someone always has to go to the bathroom, etc when it is my turn.  Since my toddler came along, I really feel rushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, it is just Colter and I.  He has been fast asleep for over an hour.  I got in that shower, and I didn't have to worry about a thing.  I took almost a 20 minute hot shower.  I got in a good 10 minutes of just standing under the water and relaxing.  No interruptions.  It was heaven!!!!  Thank you Lord!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2407707233744971459?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2407707233744971459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2407707233744971459&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2407707233744971459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2407707233744971459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-am-in-heaven.html' title='I am in heaven'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4264946486912013892</id><published>2008-03-25T20:54:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:37.145-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightmare on Chopper's street</title><content type='html'>It all happened on Monday afternoon. My day started out like an other typical day in this dog eat dog world. I did my usual bed pounce to wake up my human slaves so I could go outside. After I complete my mission, I prance and bark all the way to the door. My bff, Sadie, growls, spins in circles and foams at the mouth. Once outside, I bark at the air until I finally decided to relieve myself. Back inside I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sadie and I assume our usual positions. I lay on top of the couch where I can get a good view out the window. My pal Sadie, stands on the couch and plasters her face to the window. We want to make sure that anyone who dares to pass by, knows whose territory the are on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, the first victim of the day. The old lady and her dog. I throw my head back and bark towards the ceiling. I'm tough, and they better recognize. In case they are doubting me, Sadie lets them know she is there to back me. She bounces of the furniture and window, while spitting, barking and growling. They must know that if the window were not there, they would be lunch. Once the lady and her dog pass, we continue to bark for a minute or two. Just in case.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today seems a bit slow. There are not as many people trespassing today. Perhaps we have scared them all. Wait! Whats that?! Oooo doggie! Its a human crossing the street a block away. I enlist the help of Sadie to make sure they keep on walking. We showed him. He must have been to scared to come down here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In between my missions to protect whats mine, I take catnaps. However, after one of my afternoon catnaps, something appeared that had me shaking like a leaf. My human slave says that its scary because of the smelly mess of germs growing inside. But that is exactly why I was captivated and couldn't look away. That same smelly mess of germs was to much for me to resist. My eyes were glued to it. Then, all of the sudden, it would move. I barked and ran away with my tail between my legs. Every time I went back to look, it would happen again. It was so traumatizing. All afternoon, I agonized over this thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181858627479247378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-mo948xmhI/AAAAAAAAAmE/0oBhAO_gFGU/s320/100_0855.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I was so relieved when my human slave so bravely scooped the thing up and got it out of my sight.  Finally, I could resume my position on the couch.  Life is back to normal again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4264946486912013892?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4264946486912013892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4264946486912013892&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4264946486912013892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4264946486912013892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/nightmare-on-choppers-street.html' title='Nightmare on Chopper&apos;s street'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-mo948xmhI/AAAAAAAAAmE/0oBhAO_gFGU/s72-c/100_0855.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1138933081485527503</id><published>2008-03-23T10:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:37.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Easter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;H&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;y&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#66ff99;"&gt;E&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#9999ff;"&gt;a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;t&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;r &lt;span style="color:#66ffff;"&gt;P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc99;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccccff;"&gt;e&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ccffff;"&gt;p&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;s&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#99ff99;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcccc;"&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180956130296306162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-Z0Jo8xmfI/AAAAAAAAAl0/jjQQnqGlMwQ/s320/peeps-798084.jpg" border="0" /&gt;I wonder how many of you are doing something special today?.  I am a bit ashamed to say this, but I can not honestly remember the last time I attended church on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;easter&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sunday&lt;/span&gt;.  I would be willing to bet the last time was about 15 years ago.  Today is no exception.  I am at work.  I realize I need to stop procrastinating.  Its time for me to find ways to get my family and myself more involved with church.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I do love &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Easter&lt;/span&gt; time.  Its the time of year when all of God's miracles are being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;resurrected&lt;/span&gt;.  His only son, nature and his creatures.  Its a fresh new start for all.  I love all of the pretty colors, the glorious smells, the return of beautiful song birds and the gift of new life for many little critters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I knew it would not be an easy task to decorate eggs with an 18 month old.  However, I felt that I really needed to do it.  I want him to have these great memories.  Yes, I know he probably will not even remember, but I will.  So, I attempted to help &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt; decorate his eggs.  Or should I say, I did most of the decorating.  He was more interested in trying to drink the dye from the cups,  ripping apart the card board box and trying to throw the "balls"  (eggs) across the room.  Needless to say, we did not have much for finished products.  My flash &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;gordan&lt;/span&gt; skills are not as good as they used to be and many off the "balls" did not survive.  My little pitcher has a great curve ball!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180956173245979138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-Z0MI8xmgI/AAAAAAAAAl8/neA2OqXK0Sc/s320/100_0854.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It would have been great to have some extra hands, but Tanner went to his mom's for the long weekend.  Tanner was looking forward to meeting his new little sister.  His mom had a baby girl the beginning of February and he had yet to see her.  I hope he is having a good time.  I hope &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&gt; are having a good time!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-1138933081485527503?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1138933081485527503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1138933081485527503&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1138933081485527503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1138933081485527503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-easter.html' title='Happy Easter!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-Z0Jo8xmfI/AAAAAAAAAl0/jjQQnqGlMwQ/s72-c/peeps-798084.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1115788389169939514</id><published>2008-03-20T16:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:37.707-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is wrong with you boy?</title><content type='html'>I don't know what is wrong with my kid. He is crazy. I think he loves pain &amp;amp; torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al took Colter out to play in the recent snow received. Of course, Dad thought it would be funny to throw snow balls at such an easy target. Colter really enjoyed being hit with them. He found it to be loads of fun. Most kids probably would, right? Then, while Colter was trying to run in his 500 layers mom made him wear, he tripped and fell face first into the snow. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-LDb48xmeI/AAAAAAAAAls/W9pR18vVDOM/s1600-h/100_0853.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179917405340670434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-LDb48xmeI/AAAAAAAAAls/W9pR18vVDOM/s320/100_0853.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All though you can not tell from the picture, he actuall thought that was pretty darn funny too. I am not sure all kids would think that was quite so great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fast forward to a couple days later. Once again, Al decides it was time to pick on Colter. Al picks up the water bottle, intended to be for naughty dogs, and squirts Colter with it. Colter let out a big laugh, so dad squirted him again. This time he accidentally got him in the face. Colter thought this was the greatest thing ever. So, dad did it a few more times. When he decided he better quite, Colter got made because he wanted more. If Al would squirt him any where besides in the face, he would also get mad. The water bottle got put away, but eventually had to be put out of sight all together because Colter was so mad that no one was going to squirt him in the face anymore. I am pretty darn sure that most kids would not likes this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The following day, Colter hit his head on the wall pretty hard. I knew it must have hurt, but I didn't want him to freak, so I tried to just ignore it. I couldn't for long, because he decided that hitting his head on the wall was a good time too. (((SIGH))) At least he wasn't doing it real hard. Perhaps the damage was all ready done. What is wrong with you boy?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-1115788389169939514?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1115788389169939514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1115788389169939514&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1115788389169939514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1115788389169939514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-is-wrong-with-you-boy.html' title='What is wrong with you boy?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R-LDb48xmeI/AAAAAAAAAls/W9pR18vVDOM/s72-c/100_0853.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2654132066716577634</id><published>2008-03-15T13:02:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:37.951-05:00</updated><title type='text'>House update</title><content type='html'>After a few week hiatus, Al is back to working on the kitchen again. Our taxes arrived a few weeks ago, and we promptly headed to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lowe's&lt;/span&gt; to spend the money. I had made a few changes in the layout of the kitchen, and we still needed some of odds &amp;amp; ends. Other than the fact that I need to exchange a few things, I think we have everything to get the kitchen done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al started &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sheet rocking&lt;/span&gt; the ceiling, repairing walls and taking down the old cabinets. He has 2 out of the 3 cabinets removed! How on earth did these people survive with such little cabinet &amp;amp; counter space? I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;admit&lt;/span&gt; that the kitchen has its obstacles, but if I can do it, they could too. (At least I think I can.) I cannot wait to see my creation come to life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt; has been helping Al &amp;amp; I out. He has been having a blast with all the tools. Its so cute to see him trying to "fix" things. He is quite handy. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178039804044076322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9wXxHDhZSI/AAAAAAAAAlc/E2NGUSvBSag/s320/100_0846.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178039795454141714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9wXwnDhZRI/AAAAAAAAAlU/rPG516Fd8rs/s320/100_0847.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I helped out a little by tearing down the hideous wallpaper that was used as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;back splash&lt;/span&gt;. Once I started to tear it down, I found even uglier wall paper underneath. I didn't know it was possible, but it was. I have also started some destruction to the bathroom. Its a great way to blow off steam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep noticing new things about the house that amuse me.  The previous owner had the house since the 40's and it was used for a rental for the past 20 years or so.  Its obvious by some of the repairs that he made.  Either that, or he was just not very handy.  Who uses duct tape to patch plaster walls, and then paints over it?  Not even us &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;der&lt;/span&gt; hillbillies thought of such a good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;idear&lt;/span&gt;.  I guess were just not true to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dem&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;der&lt;/span&gt; roots.  :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope yer all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;havin&lt;/span&gt; a fantastical weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2654132066716577634?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2654132066716577634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2654132066716577634&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2654132066716577634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2654132066716577634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/house-update.html' title='House update'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9wXxHDhZSI/AAAAAAAAAlc/E2NGUSvBSag/s72-c/100_0846.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-9138389250493375436</id><published>2008-03-13T12:17:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:39.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Colter's week</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Last week I said I had pictures, and I wasn't kidding. I just couldn't seem to find the time to post. So here you go. Narrated by Colter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am getting to be a big boy, Tanner is much more interested in me. His interest seems to be more aimed towards picking on me.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljKnDhZMI/AAAAAAAAAks/MlMyFXxnF5w/s1600-h/100_0839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177278280572691650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljKnDhZMI/AAAAAAAAAks/MlMyFXxnF5w/s320/100_0839.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; torturing me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljLHDhZNI/AAAAAAAAAk0/y920Oog6geg/s1600-h/100_0838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177278289162626258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljLHDhZNI/AAAAAAAAAk0/y920Oog6geg/s320/100_0838.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; scaring me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljLnDhZOI/AAAAAAAAAk8/OPMtslfR4pM/s1600-h/100_0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177278297752560866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljLnDhZOI/AAAAAAAAAk8/OPMtslfR4pM/s320/100_0840.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; did I say picking on me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljL3DhZPI/AAAAAAAAAlE/Rhk_H22u--0/s1600-h/100_0841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177278302047528178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljL3DhZPI/AAAAAAAAAlE/Rhk_H22u--0/s320/100_0841.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In the past couple of weeks, I have finally figured out how to release all of my excess energy. I have way more than anyone person should have. At least that is what Mom says. I surprised her by climbing on this chair and fussing until she came to see what my major malfunction was. Boy was she excited to see how big I really was and that I could get up here all by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljMnDhZQI/AAAAAAAAAlM/l8hIXdWztsw/s1600-h/100_0837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177278314932430082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljMnDhZQI/AAAAAAAAAlM/l8hIXdWztsw/s320/100_0837.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Her excitement did not last long, because soon I was showing her that I could also climb onto the couch and anything else that I could find. Mommy got a little upset when I found out that I could climb onto the dinning room chairs, and then onto the dinning room table. She didn't see me fast enough on my 2nd attempt and the chair went out from underneath me. Hopefully, I will remember that the next time the chairs call my name.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sock fetish has turned into a just plain down weird foot fetish. I love to take my shoes &amp;amp; socks off every night and when I am done, I have to take my Mom's off too. I try to take Dad's off, but he doesn't let me. Mom says that I should be thankful. :O) Recently, I discovered that I could actually put my Mom's shoes on my feet. I thought I was pretty darn funny and had to show Mom.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177277473118839986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9libnDhZLI/AAAAAAAAAkk/lV8SaX8pB0Q/s320/100_0842.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Then I thought I would give walking a try....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9liY3DhZKI/AAAAAAAAAkc/HL1Y7fXSNiE/s1600-h/100_0844.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177277425874199714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9liY3DhZKI/AAAAAAAAAkc/HL1Y7fXSNiE/s320/100_0844.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had a lot of fun, but I got mad when they would fall off and I couldn't get them back on. For some reason now, Mom puts her shoes in her bedroom when I take them off for her. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177277408694330514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9liX3DhZJI/AAAAAAAAAkU/itSaQFszwpk/s320/100_0845.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are all having a great week!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-9138389250493375436?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/9138389250493375436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=9138389250493375436&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/9138389250493375436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/9138389250493375436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/colters-week.html' title='Colter&apos;s week'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9ljKnDhZMI/AAAAAAAAAks/MlMyFXxnF5w/s72-c/100_0839.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-599868134080239509</id><published>2008-03-07T09:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:39.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mischievous</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9FY13DhZII/AAAAAAAAAkM/G_fbogCVluM/s1600-h/100_0827.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175015129160443010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9FY13DhZII/AAAAAAAAAkM/G_fbogCVluM/s320/100_0827.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;This is an example of what that looks like.&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/4404128126607392760-599868134080239509?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/599868134080239509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=599868134080239509&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/599868134080239509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/599868134080239509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/mischievous.html' title='Mischievous'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R9FY13DhZII/AAAAAAAAAkM/G_fbogCVluM/s72-c/100_0827.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6375132381728373293</id><published>2008-03-06T12:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T13:02:02.250-05:00</updated><title type='text'>February=Yuck!</title><content type='html'>February was a crazy month and not exactly my favorite for 2008.  I hope March is much better.  I am eager for the spring weather to come our way.  I want to get outdoors and enjoy the fresh air. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like many of you, the flu made its round at our house over the past couple of weeks.  Tanner was lucky enough to only suffer for about 24 hours.  Colter and I were not so lucky.  Al never got the stomach bug, but he is still recovering from a super stubborn cold.  Hopefully, all the sickies are on there way out for good.  Unfortunately, as much as I am excited for spring, it also is the time of year for allergies.  Which seem to get worse with age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its my spring fever that is causing me to be a bit irritated with things lately.  Fortunately, with age also comes mellowness and that is a good thing for me.  I have caught wind of some not so nice things that were said about my hubby,Uncle Mike and Al's family and I am not pleased.  Younger me would be on a rampage and out for blood.  All I have to say now is, I am the only one who is allowed to talk trash about my husband.  Don't let me here it again.  The odds that the culprit would even read this are nill, because he probably can't read.  (Low blow, I know.  Not to mention Lame.)  Anyhow, thats my vent.  Much better than loosing an eye I would say.  :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lots to share about Colter's adventures, but I forgot my pic card at home.  It just isn't the same sharing stories without a pic.  Hopefully, tomorrow will be a much happier day!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Thursday gang!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6375132381728373293?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6375132381728373293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6375132381728373293&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6375132381728373293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6375132381728373293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/03/februaryyuck.html' title='February=Yuck!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2977815795376148476</id><published>2008-02-23T15:58:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:39.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R8CJJq2TdXI/AAAAAAAAAkE/ZpnddzKuQVQ/s1600-h/100_0830.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170283171435214194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R8CJJq2TdXI/AAAAAAAAAkE/ZpnddzKuQVQ/s320/100_0830.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2977815795376148476?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2977815795376148476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2977815795376148476&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2977815795376148476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2977815795376148476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/hi.html' title='Hi!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R8CJJq2TdXI/AAAAAAAAAkE/ZpnddzKuQVQ/s72-c/100_0830.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5954214763394358388</id><published>2008-02-21T15:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T16:21:12.434-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lady Luck</title><content type='html'>Seriously.  That should be my nick name.  &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;*&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;*WHOOP!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;WHOOP!&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;*&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;Sarcasm detector. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I just have to laugh.  I am sure that I am not the most unlucky person in the world, but most of the time, it seems like it.  After the wonderful week I had last week, I figured I would be good for the year.  Or at least a month.  I guess I figured wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, I headed back to my home town to get some much needed new tires put on my ride.  It was darn cold, but I knew it had to be done, if I stood any chance of making it to Sioux Falls this week.  (If you'll recall, I have been trying to get there for almost 2 months now.  Its always something...)  Normally, the brutal weather would keep me home.  I would hate to break down with a 1 year old.  For what ever reason, I grabbed extra blankets, just in case.  I swear, I have ESP, but I never listen too it.  So now you where this is going.  You have ESP too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 10 miles from my destination, my jeep makes a wonderful clunking noise, starts to jerk and the engine light comes on.  Freakin Fantastic!  I turned down the tunes and the heat, to listen for any knocking coming from the motor.  Nothing.  If I slowed down, the clunking and jerking would stop.  Unsure if I should stop before I did more damage, I picked up my phone to call home.  Its still early.  Al will not be out of bed and he will not even hear the phone.  I will call his cousin.  I called his cousin, who said perhaps I could make it to my destination, if I drive slow.  Not wanting to risk my toddlers limbs falling off, I kept on truckin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did make it to my uncles shop, however as soon as I pulled in, the motor died.  I called home, in hopes that Tanner would sit up in his bed and answer the phone, but he did not.  I had to call my Mother-n-law to go over to the house to get my hubby out of bed.  Now you know he is going to be in a super mood.  Its bad enough that I had to get him up from his deep slumber, let alone the fact that I probably broke it on purpose.   Its all part of my plan to slowly drive him insane.  Okay, I am completely exaggerating here.  He comes to get us, and he is so happy to do so.  hum hum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then had to go back with his cousin, in the tow truck, to drag my stinking jeep back to town.  Al was not in the mood to fix it, so I had it dropped at the shop.  I figured I was going to have to chop down a money tree to pay for it.  I was expecting a blown motor or trannie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have some luck.  Thankfully, it was just a crank sensor and it only cost a couple hundred to fix.  I also finally made it to sioux falls, and this time, I stalked up.  No one in my household should have to worry about their poo poos, laundry, snacks, etc, for quite sometime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5954214763394358388?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5954214763394358388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5954214763394358388&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5954214763394358388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5954214763394358388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/lady-luck.html' title='Lady Luck'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4050217224456131520</id><published>2008-02-17T10:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-17T11:08:56.563-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Daytona</title><content type='html'>It seems a bit ironic that Mike passed away this close to the Daytona 500.  That would be the superbowl for those of us who love racing.  Mike was a huge fan of Earnhardt, who passed after his crash at the Daytona 500 in 2001.  Keeping it in the family, Mike then became a Dale jr fan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, at the Daytona 500, Dale jr will be driving his new car with its new number, 88.  In case you are not aware, 88 was the same number raced by Grandpa Les, Uncle Mike, and Al.  Keeping it in the family....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like the pastor said, Mike will have the best seat in the house for the Daytona 500.  I would like to think that Uncle Mike will be up there watching Dale jr, in the number 88, right along side Dale Sr. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be watching too.  Missing you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4050217224456131520?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4050217224456131520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4050217224456131520&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4050217224456131520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4050217224456131520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/daytona.html' title='Daytona'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3289085613287670044</id><published>2008-02-16T15:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T16:30:03.362-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What is real?</title><content type='html'>Did the past 3 1/2 days really just happen?  I am tired, physically tired.  Mentally, I feel lost.  I thought that I would be prepared for this time, and I was somewhat.  I am feeling a little numb and disbelief.  All though I know it is real, I feel as if I it has all been a dream.  I am just waiting for reality to set in.  I guess the total suddeness of it all hasn't allowed me much time to process things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been preparing myself for Mikes passing for years.  I watched him go from pretty darn good to pretty darn bad during the 10 years I have known him.  It was hard to see a once full of life &amp;amp; energy man, become restricted to full time care and a bed he could barely muster the strength to leave.  I never fooled myself into thinking he would get better, but I had fooled myself into thinking he would be here much longer.  It was almost like the boy who cried wolf.  He would get really sick and spend a few days in the hospital and then he would get better and be sent home again.  I guess on Tuesday afternoon when Al told me he was being brought to the hospital, I just thought he would bounce back like he always did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see him Tuesday evening.  I grabbed his hand and said "love you buddy."  He looked at me like he didn't know who I was and then said love you and told me to go home.   He seemed to be in a lot of pain and really out of it, so I decided to let him rest.  I figured I would come up on Wednesday, and he would be better and know that I was there.  That is why I was shocked when Al told me they said he only had 2 days tops.  I called my mother immediatly so she could watch Colter, but I told her to take her time.  Once she got to my house, I lolligaged a bit, and then finally decided to the hospital.  I stopped to get people beverages and mossied on into the waiting room where Al's stepdad and uncle were sitting.  I was informed that if I wanted to see him, I should go now.  I was totally caught off guard and I hurried over to his room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once there, I realized that I was not going to get to say goodbye and within 10 minutes he was gone.  It was aweful and yet I was relieved.  I was glad he would not have to suffer anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next 48 hours were a total blur.  One thing after another and the next thing you know, we are standing in the cemetery.  And now today, nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole experience is something I will never forget and it has also had me wondering many things.  Did Mike really go towards "the light?"  Were his loved ones waiting there to walk with him to see the lord?  Was he scared?  Was he at peace?  Now that he was free of his illness, did he do one of his funny little jigs for the lord?  Is he stalking Earnhardt?  Did he meet any of my family?  Is he watching down on us?  I hope to be around a lot longer, but I hope to one day see him again and find out what it was really like for him.  I hope he tells me that all I had thought it may have been, was, and that it was 10x better than that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3289085613287670044?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3289085613287670044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3289085613287670044&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3289085613287670044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3289085613287670044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/what-is-real.html' title='What is real?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1003160963306181984</id><published>2008-02-14T04:39:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:40.010-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Uncle Mike</title><content type='html'>Its 3:40 am and I am having trouble sleeping. Yesterday, we lost a very important part of our life. Uncle Mike passed away shortly after 1pm. He was only 51 years old. A life seemingly far to young. A life, for which, I was lucky enough to be a part of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mike. What can I say about uncle Mike? He was a man that at times, I loved to hate. He was impatient, demanding, and most of the time, he seemed self centered. His love of racing, often times seemed like his only love. His comedic way and difficulty in sharing emotion, made him seem uncaring. That couldn't have been farther from the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I witnessed his heart many times, but I will never forget the first. Wether or not he knew, I saw him crying while Al &amp;amp; I were saying our vows. At that moment, I knew there was much more to this man. I knew he had a huge heart, and that he really did think the world of Al.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166785212630398306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R7Qbxq2TdWI/AAAAAAAAAj8/0bKcO6dAsUM/s320/mike.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always said, Uncle Mike should have been a stand up comedian, because he was by far the funniest man I have ever known. He never missed a beat and how he came up with the things he said, I will never know. It was what drew people to him. Everyone loves a good laugh, and he was ALWAYS good for one. Its what made you love him, even if you were mad at him. There was no resisting his comedic charm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al and Mike had a very special bond. Al was like the son Mike never had. He was a huge part of Al's life and became a huge part of mine. I don't think there was ever a doubt, that our son should be named after him. I am sad that Colter Michael will never really get to know his Uncle Mike. We will do our best to keep his memory alive, but it will never be as good as the real Mike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are loved Michael. We are going to miss you greatly. God SPEED buddy!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166785204040463698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R7QbxK2TdVI/AAAAAAAAAj0/2Vr0VUtl1hc/s320/race+car.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-1003160963306181984?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1003160963306181984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1003160963306181984&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1003160963306181984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1003160963306181984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/uncle-mike.html' title='Uncle Mike'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R7Qbxq2TdWI/AAAAAAAAAj8/0bKcO6dAsUM/s72-c/mike.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8213408326156359907</id><published>2008-02-09T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T10:51:57.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Smart kid</title><content type='html'>My Colter.  He notices every thing.   If a picture on the wall is crooked, he will notice it.  I am sure this goes for most curious toddlers.  I often joke that he is going to be a house inspector when he grows up.  This morning, he pointed out yet another item that was out of place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just another routine morning.  We headed to daycare, babbling and pointing all the way.  When we pull up to the sitters, Colter will announce whether or not her kitty is hanging out on the front porch.  No kitty today.  It must be to windy for her.  Better hurry and get Colter out of this car seat and inside out of this cold wind.  As I am pulling him out of his car seat, he says "Uh oh!"  I look to see what he is uh-oh-ing about and couldn't help but chuckle.  Apparently, some drunk dropped their bottle of budweiser on the side walk and it shattered into a million pieces.   They didn't even get to enjoy it, because the lid was still on it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many thoughts went through my mind.  The mom in me thought what a smart boy!  He knows that beer is not good, and neither is broken glass.  Hopefully, he will still feel the same way in 15 years.  The old booze hound in me thought, "yeah he knows."  Its sucks when you drop a full beer on the ground and waste it.  The old fuddy duddy in me thought, "ha! ha! I bet you will be feeling that today."  And of course, the comedian in me couldn't help but think about those commercials.  Real American Heroes &amp;amp; Real Men of Genius.  Real genius all right...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8213408326156359907?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8213408326156359907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8213408326156359907&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8213408326156359907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8213408326156359907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/smart-kid.html' title='Smart kid'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2300004406601739441</id><published>2008-02-08T13:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-08T13:12:04.550-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stage fright</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/hZqosY66sUc' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/hZqosY66sUc'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was trying to catch Colter walking and talking, but he seems to get stage fright when ever I reach for the camera.  You do actually get to hear him say binky.  And he does run away.  Not exactly the greatest video, but its better than none right?  Also, notice how the dog follows him every where.  Happy Friday!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2300004406601739441?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2300004406601739441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2300004406601739441&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2300004406601739441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2300004406601739441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/stage-fright.html' title='Stage fright'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6892523683000922715</id><published>2008-02-07T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T11:33:34.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Toddler</title><content type='html'>Apparently, my camera has been on strike lately.  I haven't been taking mad pictures like usual.  I am going to have to work out a deal with my camera.  I am sure all talk and no pictures gets boring.  Who wants to read a book with no pictures, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My precious little baby has turned into a super cute toddler.  I loved having a precious little baby, but I am also loving my toddler.  Tantrums and all.  I have been trying to teach Colter to throw things away for a while now.  I finally got him to throw away his diaper.  He was so proud, that he pulled it back out of the garbage and had to throw it away again.  And again, and again.  Later that day, we decided to go bye bye.  I was try to get his socks and shoes on and of course, he thought it was more fun to throw his shoes around.  I told him to go get his shoe and bring it to me so we could go bye bye and he actually did it.  I was so proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colter has really been picking up words, so its really time to start watching what we say.  His dad was nice enough to teach him poo poo.  Thanks to Dad, every time you go into the bathroom, Colter will announce if for you.  He also thinks he is being funny by knocking on the bathroom door and yelling poo poo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tips that you need to know.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Certain words should not be used unless you really intend to do them.   Words like sleepy, nite nite and bed, will send him running to the gate on the stairs yelling bye bye.  If you do not put him to bed, you will witness a real meltdown.  I have never heard of a kid wanting to go to bed.  Leave it to mine to be different.  Bath and bye bye are also to be used only if you plan on doing them.  So please choose your words wisely if you are visiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy thursday ya'll!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6892523683000922715?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6892523683000922715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6892523683000922715&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6892523683000922715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6892523683000922715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/toddler.html' title='Toddler'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4607176210304959402</id><published>2008-02-05T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T21:15:34.383-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by &lt;a href="http://cmthappenings.blogspot.com//"&gt;Tess&lt;/a&gt; to complete this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it goes....The rules for this meme are:(1) Link to the person that tagged you.(2) List the rules on your blog.(3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.(4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.(5) Let each random person know they have been tagged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My six non-important things/habits/quirks:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I wash my dishes in the exact same order ever time. It drives me nuts when someone comes along and throws in a dish that is not what I am washing at that time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I have a tattoo of flames and pistons across my back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) I really enjoy geneaology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I like recieving junk mail. Junk mail is better than bill mail!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I am not a picky eater and I will eat just about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I have to have something covering my drink at all times. That is why you will rarely see me drinking from a glass. I don't like to drink dust, bugs, toe nails, or anything else that may be flying around in the air!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for 6 people to tag...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I would like to hear a little something about all of you. So go for it!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4607176210304959402?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4607176210304959402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4607176210304959402&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4607176210304959402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4607176210304959402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/tagged.html' title='Tagged'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7600025130739577597</id><published>2008-02-02T11:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-02T12:11:30.477-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothingness</title><content type='html'>What are the odds?  I was just thinking to myself..."I wonder when my official start date for blogging was?"  So I looked back, and what do you know.  It was a year ago today.  So here I am a year later, still rambling on and on about nothing.  So on with the nothingness....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you to those of you who came to my jewelery party.  I was not expecting to take such a liking to their goods.  They had some nice stuff, and I will be able to get my self some nice things.  Plus, you helped get my Auntie of my back.  :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been desperatly wanting to get to Sioux Falls for some much needed supplies.  I have been trying to get there for the past month, but something always throws a wrench in my plans.  That something has been the weather lately.  It seems on my days off, I need a day for major cleaning, laundry and R&amp;amp;R.  The day I have free for shopping, its snowing &amp;amp; blowing or colder than the north pole.  I am not about to take my child on an outdoor adventure with conditions like that.  Will I make it this week?  I think I saw snow in the forecast.  May be I should start taking bids.  Enough sob story....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colter just does not stop cracking me up.  His vocabulary keeps growing and he keeps learning new stunts.  Last night, he learned how to go really fast on those wobbly legs.  He is obsessed with grabbing other peoples shopping carts.  So if you see us somewhere with a trailing cart, you better check to make sure it isn't yours.  He also enjoys pushing all of the dinning room chairs around the house.  Even the chair in the living room moves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I nothing else to say besides have a SUPER DOOPER weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7600025130739577597?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7600025130739577597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7600025130739577597&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7600025130739577597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7600025130739577597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/02/nothingness.html' title='Nothingness'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7092598152903818199</id><published>2008-01-26T13:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-26T14:37:59.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Entry 225</title><content type='html'>I have been working.  I have been cooking.  I have been cleaning.  (Repeat.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is it.  I don't do anything else, just work.  I don't do anything else, just work and clean.  I don't do anything else, just work, clean and cook....   I've been feeling a bit like a robot lately.  Life is happening here, it just seems a bit repetitive.  I will give you the skinny on the happenings in our neck of the woods. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanner has been growing his hair out.  That is the thing these days you know.  I am all for him doing what he wants with his hair.  Its his hair.  That doesn't mean that if he came home with a blue mohawk, I would be okay with it.  I am sure it would get my blood pressure up a little.  Everyone has been giving him a lot of grief about cutting his hair.  I finally told him that he has to at least trim it once in a while to get it to grow more, and get those bangs out of his eyes.  He agreed and I dropped him off at the barber shop.  I told him to tell him he was growing it out and to just trim it up.  I guess I should have went in with him, because he did not get what he wanted.  I am not sure if it was because the barber is used to short man cuts or if it was the way Tanner explained it.  Tanner gave his own version of what I told him, so that may have been a factor.  I tried to reassure him it was just hair and it would grow back, but I still felt bad.  Next time, I will go with, and possibly take him to Kerrie.  She is well practiced in long hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Colter is walking every where.  He jabbers a lot and is saying more words.  Still no Mommy or anything related to it, but I'm working on it.  He seems to have inspector gadget arms.  I am not sure how he gets a hold of some of the things he does.  I can not help but laugh at him when his temper flares.  He reminds me of, well me.  And it he can be so ridiculous, as can I.  Yes, I am admitting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al, he has delusional hearing, and thats all I am going to say about that.  He is at home working on my kitchen right now, or so he says he is.  Any future questions about the house progress should be directed at him.  I am sure he realizes he is running out of vacation time.  :O)  Hunting season has been over now for a few weeks now...AL!!  Since he was on vacation for so long, I have redesigned my kitchen, which will result in more work, but I bet he is ready for it.  Funny thing about time.  You have time to sit and think about things....I wonder what else I can change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My aunt conned me into having a lia sophia party.  She is trying to get started, so I agreed to help her out.  How could I refuse when she was begging me and telling me that I was her favorite niece.  Wait a minute, I am her only niece! %^@#!  :O)  If your interested in some jewelery, let me know.  My party is Tuesday.  That goes for you guys too!  You know Valentines is just around the corner.  Don't be a fool and tell yourself that my wife or girl isn't into jewelery.  I am here to tell you that just because some of us wear grease and ball caps, doesn't mean that we would love to receive a beautiful necklace once in a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, thats all for now folks!  Have a fantastic weekend, week or whatever!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7092598152903818199?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7092598152903818199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7092598152903818199&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7092598152903818199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7092598152903818199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/entry-225.html' title='Entry 225'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6294657335266455581</id><published>2008-01-24T11:17:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T11:23:16.017-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One more thing</title><content type='html'>I just HAD to share this with you all.  You know the fun little thing called sitemeter that most of you have?  Well, so do I.  However, I rarely look at the thing.  I did today.  It seems someone found my blog by googling fungus in buttcrack.  I feel sorry for that guy.  Hey buddy!  You may want to wash in there from time to time.  Hope you found the solution to your problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6294657335266455581?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6294657335266455581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6294657335266455581&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6294657335266455581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6294657335266455581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/one-more-thing.html' title='One more thing'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4513743908600777689</id><published>2008-01-24T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:40.328-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When do I get the real thing Dad?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R5i01plzP5I/AAAAAAAAAjs/XsWQ31VNigs/s1600-h/100_0818.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159072206943371154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R5i01plzP5I/AAAAAAAAAjs/XsWQ31VNigs/s320/100_0818.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; There is a button on this thing that sounds like your reeving the engine.  He loves it.  I can see numerous ulcers in my future.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4513743908600777689?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4513743908600777689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4513743908600777689&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4513743908600777689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4513743908600777689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/when-do-i-get-real-thing-dad.html' title='When do I get the real thing Dad?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R5i01plzP5I/AAAAAAAAAjs/XsWQ31VNigs/s72-c/100_0818.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-856244733464240186</id><published>2008-01-24T10:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:40.499-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair</title><content type='html'>Remember a long time ago when I said I got a fabulous hair cut?  I said I would post a picture?  Well here you go.  Only thing is, its time for another hair cut.  And until I took this picture, I didn't realize how long my hair was.  I think I could loose a few inches.  Any how, I should really get into see the Bestest stylist in town.  I have also been toying with the idea of coloring my mop.  It needs something.  What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R5i0lZlzP4I/AAAAAAAAAjk/kjEgvJKz90M/s1600-h/100_0822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159071927770496898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R5i0lZlzP4I/AAAAAAAAAjk/kjEgvJKz90M/s320/100_0822.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;FYI~  I know it looks like I am just wearing an unbuttoned shirt, but  I am not!!!!  Perverts!  I have a cami on under neath.  And yes, that is my wonderful bathroom.  Someday, it will not be so blue!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-856244733464240186?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/856244733464240186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=856244733464240186&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/856244733464240186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/856244733464240186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/hair.html' title='Hair'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R5i0lZlzP4I/AAAAAAAAAjk/kjEgvJKz90M/s72-c/100_0822.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2097805322622396562</id><published>2008-01-18T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T13:14:54.475-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blonde?</title><content type='html'>Do you ever feel like you just had a blonde moment?  I have been full of them for a while now.  I used to have very blonde hair, but not so much anymore.  When I had the blonde hair, I am sure I was way more intelligent than I seem to be these days.  Okay, I didn't have as many blonde moments anyways.  If you have been feeling a bit blonde these days, then I read on.  Hopefully my blondeness will make you feel much better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, we were having some problems with the shower drain in the upstairs bathroom.  The water was draining at less than snails pace.  I don't know about you, but I am not a huge fan of standing in water while I shower.  I figured it was my hair clogging the old drain, but I found it odd that it seemed to come on suddenly.  I expressed my concern to my hubby and he said that he had tried to plunge it a few times with no luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had just enough drano left to put down the drain.  Usually this is a sure thing, however this time it did not work.  I decided to try it again, so off to the store I went to stock up on more drano.  I didn't want to run out, so I bought 3 bottles.  My hubby did not share in my enthusiasm for poreing all of that drano into the old pipes, but I was determined that I was going to get that sucker unclogged. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I pored half of the bottle of drano down the drain.  Much wiser this time, I decided to let it work its magic for a while longer.  After 45 minutes or so, I went back up and flushed those pipes with some nice hot water.  (Me, thinking to myself.--&gt;)  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Arrrr&lt;/span&gt;.  It didn't work this time either.  Perhaps something fell down in there and is causing it to clog.  I know.  I'll find an old hanger and bend it so that I can shove it down there and see if I can fish anything out.   After many attempts to reel something in, I decided I was just going to have to try the Drano again.   Third times a charm, right?  WRONG!  Still clogged.  It was time to surrender and accept the fact that I was destined to spend my days swimming in shower water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The detective in me was not willing to accept this.  Once there is a mystery, she can not shake it.  She does not give up until she finds the answer or knows that she has exhausted every avenue.  I suddenly had a light bulb moment.  I remembered a bathtub incident that had occurred a couple of weeks earlier while giving &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt; a bath.  He discovered this lever that moved up and down like a light switch, and he loves his light switches.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt; played and played with that "switch" in the tub.  I thought it was fine, because I had no idea what it was.  I had never seen one before.  For all I knew, it was just some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;decorative&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt;-hickey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to mess with that lever and see what would happen.  What do you know?  The water was being pulled out of that tub at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;moch&lt;/span&gt; 10. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Smacks forehead*  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Heres&lt;/span&gt; your sign......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2097805322622396562?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2097805322622396562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2097805322622396562&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2097805322622396562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2097805322622396562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/blonde.html' title='Blonde?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5715603857040680589</id><published>2008-01-17T10:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:40.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>EGGxcuse me?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt; Do you want to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;EGGxplain&lt;/span&gt; to me what you are doing?&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156465607060396386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R49yJkVamWI/AAAAAAAAAjc/fw_3SpCgOoE/s320/100_0799.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Yes Mom.  I found the eggs you threw in the trash.  They explode when you throw them at the floor, see?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5715603857040680589?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5715603857040680589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5715603857040680589&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5715603857040680589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5715603857040680589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/eggxcuse-me.html' title='EGGxcuse me?!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R49yJkVamWI/AAAAAAAAAjc/fw_3SpCgOoE/s72-c/100_0799.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8904937270686446580</id><published>2008-01-11T11:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:40.849-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I dont do mornings!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eaVkVamRI/AAAAAAAAAi4/KhTBvP6T7uY/s1600-h/100_0778.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154257993870252306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eaVkVamRI/AAAAAAAAAi4/KhTBvP6T7uY/s320/100_0778.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eaWEVamSI/AAAAAAAAAjA/Fw7NfZRy35o/s1600-h/100_0779.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8904937270686446580?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8904937270686446580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8904937270686446580&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8904937270686446580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8904937270686446580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-dont-do-mornings.html' title='I dont do mornings!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eaVkVamRI/AAAAAAAAAi4/KhTBvP6T7uY/s72-c/100_0778.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5954389035864751632</id><published>2008-01-11T10:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:41.305-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Road Rage</title><content type='html'>Back in the day, (&lt;---I am old you know), I was a member of the road rage society. Not only did I qualify because I could get raged over other drivers stupidity, but I also could get raged at my very own back seat drivers. I have been known to chase down vehicles and give the drivers my opinion of their driving abilities. I have also been known to show my back seat drivers just how well my brakes really do work. A few of them have even gotten a lesson on what a really bad driver is like. Most of the drivers on this side of the state have seen my one finger salute at one time or another. &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my driving lifetime, I have been victim many times to the idiot driver who is behind you and in a huge hurry. Most of these idiot drivers seem to be behind me at a corner and are usually trying to turn the same way I am. Due to the lack of ponies under the hood of my old truck, I could not peel out in front of people. Because of this, I have had many impatient drives behind me. Many did not like to wait, and try to go before me. Most times, they would pick the same moment that I could go, resulting in a lot of close calls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that I gave up my beloved truck, my new ride has many more ponies under the hood. Great! But, now I don't like to use them because I have precious cargo on board. I am not willing to risk my Son's life to get somewhere faster. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that I am a full fledged mom, I have been so busy that I let my membership to the road rage society run out. I don't miss it so much, but I do have withdrawals once in a while. A few weeks ago, I took part in an incident and now I think I am being punished.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was at a stop sign waiting for a school bus that was coming. To me, school bus = kids, and I am not about to pull out in front of it. I start to hear a horn blaring behind me so I look into my rear view mirror. I see a crazed woman in a mini van behind me whose arms were flailing about so much, it almost appeared she was having a seizure. Unfortunately, she was not. She was in a huge hurry to get somewhere, and apparently didn't care that there was a school bus coming. May be she was on her way to the eye dr and couldn't see it. I will never know. The old road rager inside me was to much for me to hold back. The crazy lady got to witness both of my one fingered salutes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the incident, I really didn't feel great about it, because my son was sitting in the back seat. I am sure he had no idea that mommy was being possessed by a raging demon, but I still couldn't help but feel bad. After all the trauma I caused myself, I think I am still being punished. The society must have gotten wind of the incident and are now making sure I know that I am not aloud to participate unless I renew my membership. Last week, one my trusty little soldiers got burned on the stove. This week, the other one was burned on the stove. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154255893631244530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eYbUVamPI/AAAAAAAAAio/qROsegrc-m8/s320/100_0793.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154255897926211842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eYbkVamQI/AAAAAAAAAiw/mVqouKENmpw/s320/100_0794.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I promise, I will try not to ever use them again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope you all have a great, idiot driver free weekend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5954389035864751632?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5954389035864751632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5954389035864751632&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5954389035864751632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5954389035864751632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/road-rage.html' title='Road Rage'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4eYbUVamPI/AAAAAAAAAio/qROsegrc-m8/s72-c/100_0793.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7766767305579826268</id><published>2008-01-05T13:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:43.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Christmas Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Daddy had to help me open my present because I really wasn't sure what I was suppose to do. It was okay though. It was just a pair of pants. In a couple more years, this kind of gift will just be thrown at mom.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LyUVamNI/AAAAAAAAAiY/L3-60gbmcDk/s1600-h/100_0763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060564047567058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LyUVamNI/AAAAAAAAAiY/L3-60gbmcDk/s320/100_0763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I got a new pony to love and hug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_Ly0VamOI/AAAAAAAAAig/HPTp9N-KeC0/s1600-h/100_0765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060572637501666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_Ly0VamOI/AAAAAAAAAig/HPTp9N-KeC0/s320/100_0765.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dad said I had to take a shower before we opened gifts. I asked him what I should wear, and he said he didn't care. He said I could wear shorts if I wanted to. So I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LUEVamII/AAAAAAAAAhw/BmdObU9_hiQ/s1600-h/100_0773.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060044356524162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LUEVamII/AAAAAAAAAhw/BmdObU9_hiQ/s320/100_0773.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yeah, I'm still working on the same gift. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;relishing&lt;/span&gt; the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LUkVamJI/AAAAAAAAAh4/_9L2Qi9w3b8/s1600-h/100_0769.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060052946458770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LUkVamJI/AAAAAAAAAh4/_9L2Qi9w3b8/s320/100_0769.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Dad and Sadie are helping me. (Sadie really just thinks I might have some food.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LVEVamKI/AAAAAAAAAiA/HS-ptlwd29I/s1600-h/100_0770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060061536393378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LVEVamKI/AAAAAAAAAiA/HS-ptlwd29I/s320/100_0770.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I really don't care if I have more presents to open. I want to play with this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LV0VamLI/AAAAAAAAAiI/fPYlc_SzHMI/s1600-h/100_0772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060074421295282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LV0VamLI/AAAAAAAAAiI/fPYlc_SzHMI/s320/100_0772.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just a tip....Don't ask Tanner where your gift is. You may just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; one of these......&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LWEVamMI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/VNDQjpH0QFU/s1600-h/100_0771.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152060078716262594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LWEVamMI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/VNDQjpH0QFU/s320/100_0771.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7766767305579826268?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7766767305579826268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7766767305579826268&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7766767305579826268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7766767305579826268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/chirtmas-story.html' title='A Christmas Story'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R3_LyUVamNI/AAAAAAAAAiY/L3-60gbmcDk/s72-c/100_0763.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-923842709053744188</id><published>2008-01-03T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-03T12:50:14.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>2008.  What will it bring?  Hopefully, it will bring happiness, good health, lots of love and many wonderful things to you all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a senior in high school, I remember thinking that 2005 was light years away and that I would probably never see it.  Yet here I am in 2008.  Y2K is a very distant memory and seems like such a silly thought now.  Aren't we suppose to be wearing shiny suits and driving cars that can also fly?  I will admit, things have changed immensely since then, but it is nothing like what I saw in movies.  Thankfully!  I don't think I am ready to wear that shiny suit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in bed around 9pm on New years eve and most likely sawing logs shortly after.  I didn't get to ring in the new year like I have in the past, but that was okay with me.  I was hosting Christmas the following day, and I had plenty to do.  Al was apparently watching tv in bed around midnight.  He said that Colter started to fuss and I told him to go take care of him.  Al said he told me he would after the dirt bike made its jump and that I rolled over and went back to sleep.  So I technically was up for the new year, but in a bit of a slumber land.  I am sure if I was with it, his reply would have been asinine.  But in slumber land, it made perfect sense i guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys opened their gifts after a pizza supper on new years eve.  Tanner is at the age were he actually takes his time opening gifts now, and Colter is only interested for a few minutes.  It took awhile for them to open their gifts, but I enjoyed every minute of it.  It isn't very often that we are all together.  I had gotten Tanner this ridiculous parrot that repeats what you say.  It was one of those impulse buys and was intended to be more of a gag gift.  I never dreamt we would have so much fun with that thing.  We laughed and laughed.  It was great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family arrived on New years day to celebrate our Christmas.  I enjoyed being able to host the event and I was exited to show them that my cooking was not so bad after all.  At one point while we were all sitting around the table eating, I was overwhelmed with joy.  I don't even know how to explain why, except to say that our home was now part of making great memories.  Something I could not say before. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, Colter started walking.  And was he proud.  He walked and walked and walked.  And boy was mom proud.  I guess he thought it would be a funny joke if he just stopped again and went back to kneeing it.  He probably thought I would brag and no one would believe me.  However, I did catch him on video.  I have been trying to upload it, but you tube is being mean.  Colter may just have the last laugh.  :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not sure what 2008 has in store for us, but I know it will be interesting.  I know for sure, that I will still be having relapses and writing 2007 on my checks in april.  That is the blonde in me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-923842709053744188?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/923842709053744188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=923842709053744188&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/923842709053744188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/923842709053744188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2088617161493450963</id><published>2007-12-28T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-28T11:34:18.616-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday happenings</title><content type='html'>Christmas is all ready over?  I feel like it really didn't even happen.  We spent Christmas eve with Al's family, which is always a good time.  There is always plenty of food and laughs.  This year it was missing something.  That something was Tanner.  We let him go to his mom's for Christmas early this year.  He is always here for Christmas eve.  It just didn't feel like Christmas without him.  We have yet to have our little family time and watch our kids open their gifts.  I am not sure when that will happen, perhaps New Years Eve.  We will be celebrating the holidays with my family on New Years Day.  I am looking forward to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was eating healthy and loosing weight and decided against making a bunch of tempting goodies.  Someone in my house must have complained, because we received 4 different huge batches of goodies.  All of which where way to tempting to pass up.  And it was all very delicious.  My mouth thanks all of you who brought the goodies.  My waist line is not as grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday night, a good friend of ours turned 21.  Al has known him since he was a little tyke.  He was always hanging around the garage, and when he was old enough, he started coming in the pits with us.  He now races and proudly carries on Al's family number, 88.  After all, he is like family to us.  I knew there was no making excused why I could not attend his party.  I figured I could be the DD.  I am glad that I switched a day of work with my boss, because Al kept me up most of the night.  I think he thought it was his 21st birthday, and he was not doing so hot.  He paid dearly yesterday.  I hope he is much better today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being mother hen and tending to my hubby, I had to tend to Colter.  Yesterday, Al had given Colter a cookie, and while he was eating it, he fell and started choking on it.  Al yelled out that he was choking and I panicked for a millisecond and thought call 911.  I bent down and started hitting his back, but nothing happened.  I am not really sure what was going through my mind or what my plans really where, but I scooped him up from behind.  I had my arms wrapped around his tummy and I gently gave a quick thrust.  He threw up all over the floor and started screaming.  I never thought I would be so happy to hear him scream.  After it was all over, I realized what had just happened.  I was so grateful that I was able to act instead of react.  I hope that I never have to again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.  God bless!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2088617161493450963?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2088617161493450963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2088617161493450963&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2088617161493450963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2088617161493450963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-happenings.html' title='Holiday happenings'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5350154348554112174</id><published>2007-12-25T11:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-25T11:46:15.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/Rsgf6Cqvk-0' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/Rsgf6Cqvk-0'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Merry Cristmas to all!  I just had to take the time to post this very short video today.  It is wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a huge fan of snow itself, but I love when it does snow.  I guess its the nostalgia of it all.  Its even more magical when it is on Christmas day.  The snow that is coming down right now, is so beautiful.  Big, beautiful perfect snow flakes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas Everyone!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5350154348554112174?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5350154348554112174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5350154348554112174&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5350154348554112174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5350154348554112174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-day.html' title='Christmas Day'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4018341233811611895</id><published>2007-12-21T13:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-21T14:05:17.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well hello stranger</title><content type='html'>Howdy everyone! I thought I would do a quick post since I have a moment to breath. Since I have been working days, I find that I am much busier than before. Probably because people are actually awake and needing assistance during the day. I suppose once I start to get comfortable with the new schedule, things will seem less hectic. And perhaps I will find more time to post. (I heard that groan!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will not be doing any traveling over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;. We are spending Christmas eve at my mother-in-laws. My family will be celebrating on New Years Day. My sis-in-law nominated my house for the festivities this year. She is lucky, because I am actually excited that I now have the room to host it. I have had all of my shopping done for a while now, with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;exception&lt;/span&gt; of my parents. I have an extra week to worry about them though. I even managed to get something for Al. Starting early really pays. This is the first year that I have not felt like my kids did not get enough, or that I wish I could have got them more. That is a great feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have much more to talk about, but I said I would keep it short. I know many of you have left or are leaving soon for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Christmas&lt;/span&gt;. I hope you all have a safe trip and enjoy being with your family &amp;amp; friends. Merry Christmas to you all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4018341233811611895?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4018341233811611895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4018341233811611895&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4018341233811611895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4018341233811611895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/well-hello-stranger.html' title='Well hello stranger'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-9108813314241895978</id><published>2007-12-14T12:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T12:40:37.106-05:00</updated><title type='text'>15 Months</title><content type='html'>My baby is 15 months old.  He had his 15 month well baby on Monday.  As usual, it was a good report.  He was 26lbs &amp;amp; 32ins long.  The doc did express a little concern about that the fact that he has decided he did not like walking.  He encouraged us to practice practice practice over the next month.  This is difficult, because Colter just wants to drop to his knees when you grab his hand.  If he is not walking in the next month, he wants me to call him so he can set an appointment up with a specialist.  Just to make sure there is nothing he is missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really not that concerned.  I think he is just being a turd nugget and doesn't want to walk.  He has done it before.  He walks along the furniture.  He pushes chairs, toys, etc all around the house.  He climbs on the couch.  He jumps all over the couch like a mad man.  I really don't think he has any problems, other than mental.  :O)  Hopefully he will walk soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend ya'll!  To those of you celebrating Christmas this weekend, drive safely &amp;amp; have a super time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-9108813314241895978?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/9108813314241895978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=9108813314241895978&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/9108813314241895978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/9108813314241895978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/15-months.html' title='15 Months'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3250279436327060086</id><published>2007-12-13T12:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:44.832-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wash day horror</title><content type='html'>It was a tuesday afternoon. A huge pile of laundry had been staring me down for days. I knew it was time to tackle it. I knew that I could defeat it. I dug in, clothes flying everywhere. I was a mom on a mission. I washed load after load. Reds, whites, darks, jeans, socks, towels, bedding. If it was there, I washed it. When it was dry, I folded it. If there was a quick fold contest somewhere, I would have won it. Nothing could stop me. Not even those infamous missing socks. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By late afternoon, the mile high pile had dwindled drastically. A sigh of relief had escaped from my mouth. I could relax, but only for a brief moment. The moment was up and I knew that I had to keep moving. I headed straight to the dryer like nobodies business. Unload dryer. Load dryer. Start washer. Add detergent. Add softener. It was the same old routine. I could have done it in my sleep. Heck, I was very much in a comatose like state. All that was left was to dig through the pile to gather up the next load. As I turned to the pile, something happened that has changed me forever. I came face to face with this..........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143528964006603698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R2F8V1eL67I/AAAAAAAAAhI/YOk3NcDADMg/s320/100_0752.JPG" border="0" /&gt; The sock monster. How could this be? I thought that he was just an urban legend. An urban legend made up by some fool who did not believe the myth that the washer and dryer had been eating their socks. That fool must have come face to face with him too. Why didn't that fool put it on snopes to warn others? May be it was because the sock monster ate him!&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143531124375153602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R2F-TleL68I/AAAAAAAAAhQ/BpU4IqNIHFg/s320/100_0753.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div&gt;I was terrified.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't know what he would do.  Would he attack, would he eat me, would he walk away? I was froze in my place and I didn't say a word.  I prayed he had bad eyesight and couldn't see me.  Then his mouth opened and he let out a deep belly laugh.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143531137260055506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R2F-UVeL69I/AAAAAAAAAhY/mVzcDbwSa8A/s320/100_0754.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was then that I realized I would live.  The sock monster just wanted to help me with my laundry and play with my socks.  That is all he wanted all along.  Someone to understand his strange obsession and love him any way.  So, I let him help me with the laundry and play with the socks.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143531145849990114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R2F-U1eL6-I/AAAAAAAAAhg/4Imt7kBWugY/s320/100_0755.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The end!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Do you know where your socks are?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3250279436327060086?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3250279436327060086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3250279436327060086&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3250279436327060086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3250279436327060086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/wash-day-horror.html' title='Wash day horror'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R2F8V1eL67I/AAAAAAAAAhI/YOk3NcDADMg/s72-c/100_0752.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3114227704903623857</id><published>2007-12-08T20:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T20:35:51.785-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it bedtime yet?</title><content type='html'>What is that?  Is that silence I here?  Did you know that 2 1/2 hours with a 1 year old can be exhausting?  I love this kid, but some nights I am glad that he insists on going to bed at 7pm.  Wow, he was a fussy boy today.  I am sure that teething is the culprit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I picked him up from the sitter today, I noticed he had finally got another tooth on top.  After a bit more exploration, I realized there is another one almost through.  Runny diapers, sleepless nights.  I would like to think that some day I will catch on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After supper and a diaper change, Mr fussy britches decided he wanted to put his own pants on.  His patience was non existent and he ended up carrying on about his lack of success for what seemed like an eternity.  It was comical for about a millisecond.  By this time, my patience had dwindled. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanner is staying with a friend tonight, so I basically have the house to myself.  I am going to try to enjoy it, however I am sure I will be out cold in another hour.  20 year old me would be kicking this old fogies behind.  Fast asleep by 8:30 on a saturday night?  Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you are all enjoying your weekends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3114227704903623857?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3114227704903623857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3114227704903623857&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3114227704903623857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3114227704903623857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/is-it-bedtime-yet.html' title='Is it bedtime yet?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7072419839955071953</id><published>2007-12-07T12:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T14:11:09.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still here</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Hi all.  I am still here.  Sorry for the lack of posts lately.  I have been host to a holiday bug that is using all of my brain power in an attempt to spread holiday cheer.  I know I am not alone.  There are others out there, somewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Now that I am a responsible adult, (huh-hum) I figured that this year I would make the season a little less stressful by not waiting until the last minute.  So far, so good.  I have most of my christmas shopping done, which is huge for me.  I am usually a last minute shopper.  I am one of those dummies who is trying to buy presents on christmas eve.  My regards to those of you who still are.  I have a few people left, and I would like to get a few more things for my kids.  I have been keeping one eye glued to the ads for that great deal.  The one where the clouds part and a beam of sunshine comes down and blast out your eardrums with loud music.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;While on one of my great deal missions, I was pleasantly surprised to run into a very good old pal from high school.  I had not seen her in 8 years and we had a nice short visit.  There were no strange moments and it was if we have never been apart.  Well, other than the fact that we both have more kids, different jobs, etc.  :O)  The fact that two people can be such great friends one day, and then not see each other for years, baffles me.  I loved her then, and I still love her now.  I am glad she is doing well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;The madness that resides in my house has not changed, it just multiplies.  Colter has helped his dads sock trail double in size.  The food fight between Colter and the dogs has recently recruited Dad.  Tanners "things" are still always left in the most inconvenient spots.  The laundry basket in the bathroom, mysteriously fills up the same day I empty it.  The dogs still have to go to the bathroom every two hours and the shoe fairy that my husband says visits me, has been leaving many pairs of men's shoes in our back porch.  I think its time for a new fairy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;Have a great weekend everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7072419839955071953?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7072419839955071953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7072419839955071953&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7072419839955071953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7072419839955071953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/still-here.html' title='Still here'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-9004174722753164609</id><published>2007-12-01T10:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:45.425-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheese!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R1GAmFeL65I/AAAAAAAAAg4/L7997NwAQY4/s1600-R/100_0747.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139030041598618514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R1GAmFeL65I/AAAAAAAAAg4/w37vyKs0Sqs/s320/100_0747.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I am still up to no good, still drooling &amp;amp; still one good looking kid!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R1GAmVeL66I/AAAAAAAAAhA/shmFPpibQ00/s1600-R/100_0746.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139030045893585826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R1GAmVeL66I/AAAAAAAAAhA/k88vQcEZmG4/s320/100_0746.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-9004174722753164609?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/9004174722753164609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=9004174722753164609&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/9004174722753164609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/9004174722753164609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/12/cheese.html' title='Cheese!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R1GAmFeL65I/AAAAAAAAAg4/w37vyKs0Sqs/s72-c/100_0747.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-308145112994388268</id><published>2007-11-30T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T12:07:45.581-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey lady, I'm talking to you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Happy Friday Everyone!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Over the past week, Colter has started to say many things.  Actually, mom has just finally wised up and figured them out.  He has started to wave and say Hi.  This is much preferred to his bye bye wave.  That is only reserved for special people I guess.  Don't feel bad if you don't get a bye bye.  I don't even rate good enough for that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Other words that are in frequent rotation are Sadie, daddy, kitty, puppy, sticker &amp;amp; pudding.  Sticker &amp;amp; pudding are not very clear, but he is definitely trying to say them.  He says momma, but I he doesn't seem to relate it to me.  It is usually only uttered when he is mad.  Okay, may be it is meant for me.  Baby is another one he uses a lot.  He pointed at his binky while saying it yesterday, so I think that is what he is trying to say.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Right now, Colter thinks the coolest word on earth is uh-oh.  He was only using it when someone dropped something.  That was not enough, so he started purposely throwing things so he could say uh-oh.  Now, he just says it because he can.  And he can say it over and over and over and over and over....................  He was even saying it in his sleep at 4:30 this morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;I am still amazed at how smart they really are and how fast they change.  A few days ago, I saw him heading for the back porch.  I had the door latched so he couldn't get back there.  Soon he was crying and I went to try to redirect him.  It was obvious he was thirsty because he was pointing up at the clean sippys on the counter.  I proceeded to search like mad to find his sippy while he sat there screaming bloody murder while still pointing.  I could not find that darn thing any where.  I looked over the gates, in the toy box, in his diaper bag, in the christmas tree and even in my coat pockets.  I thought may be it is in the back porch, after all that is where he was trying to go.  No luck.  I finally decided I had tortured myself and him enough and just got him a new one.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;After Colter recovered, I was still being tortured by the where abouts of that elusive sippy.  I was not looking forward to what mysterious science project it may hold when it shows up a month from now.  I knew I had to find it.  I continued to search for what seemed like an eternity.  I even tore the back porch upside down.  I finally found the darn thing shoved in between the vacuum cleaner and a cheese tray that Colter had been playing with.  IN THE BACK PORCH.  Where Colter was trying to go prior to his break down.  It is obvious that I am not smarter than a 1 year old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;Have a great weekend ya'll!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-308145112994388268?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/308145112994388268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=308145112994388268&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/308145112994388268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/308145112994388268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/hey-lady-im-talking-to-you.html' title='Hey lady, I&apos;m talking to you'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-10912990642637597</id><published>2007-11-29T12:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T13:41:37.495-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Do</title><content type='html'>I have much to say today, but it is just to much for one post, so I will spread it out over the next few days.  I have been so busy with all the holiday hustle &amp;amp; bustle as I know we all are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had very good intentions of getting in to see the new hair stylist in town.  I finally made it in to see her on Monday.  She gave me a glamorous new cut and I love it.  It is exactly how I have been trying to get my haircut for the past couple of years.  I had Al take some pics of it, but for some reason, they didn't look that great.  I am going to have to try again so you can all see it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Due to the fact that I have been living in a cave for the past couple of years, I am a little rusty on my styling skills.  I also threw out some much needed styling tools when we moved, so now I have to replace them.   Isn't that how it always goes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, thank you Kerrie for a fantastic hair cut!  I will be sure to pester people into trying your services.  :O)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-10912990642637597?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/10912990642637597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=10912990642637597&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/10912990642637597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/10912990642637597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-do.html' title='New Do'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3493592902770828075</id><published>2007-11-24T16:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T16:42:40.849-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Black Friday</title><content type='html'>I am sure that some of you ventured out to the shopping establishments to take part in the "Black Friday" festivities. You are brave people, or just plain crazy. I have never gone shopping on black &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt;, and I don't ever intend to. I have serious issues with crowds. I can not even stand going to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; on a regular day. If your not up for watching a major horrific meltdown, then do not ever ask me to join you on black &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;friday&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite my hate in the day, I still wanted to get in on the good deals. Last year, I was informed by a friend that you could go online and get the same deals. So I thought what the heck. Why not get some good deals on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;christmas&lt;/span&gt; presents. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hmph&lt;/span&gt;. FYI, there are crazy people shopping online too. I got up at 6am and went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;walmart&lt;/span&gt;.com only to find out that the main purchase I wanted was all ready sold out. When I arrived at work, I checked again to see about the other items I wanted. Everything was all ready sold out. So much for my brilliant idea. I think next year I will just forget the whole thing even exists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope those of you that did brave the sea of people, made it out alive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3493592902770828075?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3493592902770828075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3493592902770828075&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3493592902770828075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3493592902770828075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/black-friday.html' title='Black Friday'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3255526383331768518</id><published>2007-11-23T13:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T13:59:29.988-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday all ready?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;Can't time just slow down a little. It all ready seems to just fly by, but throw in the holiday season, and its like we are moving in warp speed. Crazy I tell you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;We had a wonderful thanksgiving. I have so much to be thankful for, but the most important thing is that I did not kill my family with my first official solo thanksgiving dinner. It was just the four of us. I am sure the rest of you are thankful for not having to be them yesterday. I nominated them as my taste testers, for which I am not sure they were very thankful for.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;My taste testers were forced to eat turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, beans &amp;amp; pumpkin pie. All of these items were made from scratch by me with the exception of the pie crust. I did feel a bit sorry for them, so I had a few edible items on the table too. Boxed stuffing, lefse and dinner rolls. There were certainly thankful for that. :O)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;I must say, everything turned out pretty darn good. I did call a tip hotline a couple of days in advance, so that probably contributed to my success. I have never made mashed potatoes, gravy or pie prior to yesterday, but you would never know it. I can not believe that I thought that these simple things would be to hard for me to figure out. I may not need that cookbook for dummies after all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;I hope you and yours had a super thanksgiving and that ya'll gained a couple of extra pounds. If you see my hubby somewhere, be sure to ask him if he got the christmas lights up yet. Thanks for your help! :O) Have a great weekend!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3255526383331768518?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3255526383331768518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3255526383331768518&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3255526383331768518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3255526383331768518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/friday-all-ready.html' title='Friday all ready?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2337084639676403939</id><published>2007-11-22T06:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:45.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Turkey Day!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R0Vr1ENbTAI/AAAAAAAAAgw/pk2Tn0bk5Rc/s1600-h/thanksgiveday2.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135629509493214210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R0Vr1ENbTAI/AAAAAAAAAgw/pk2Tn0bk5Rc/s320/thanksgiveday2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2337084639676403939?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2337084639676403939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2337084639676403939&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2337084639676403939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2337084639676403939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/happy-turkey-day.html' title='Happy Turkey Day!!!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R0Vr1ENbTAI/AAAAAAAAAgw/pk2Tn0bk5Rc/s72-c/thanksgiveday2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6501838631815259901</id><published>2007-11-19T21:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T21:25:40.460-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My first hair cut</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-69.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=144115188088858217&amp;amp;site=widget-69.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:400px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;ad=0&amp;amp;id=144115188088858217&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-69.slide.com/p1/144115188088858217/bb_t046_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;ad=0&amp;amp;id=144115188088858217&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-69.slide.com/p2/144115188088858217/bb_t046_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/4404128126607392760-6501838631815259901?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6501838631815259901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6501838631815259901&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6501838631815259901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6501838631815259901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-first-hair-cut.html' title='My first hair cut'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4335558934354113416</id><published>2007-11-17T10:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T10:37:09.975-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This &amp; that, take 3</title><content type='html'>There is not to much going on at our house this week.  I have been trying to pick up a few christmas decorations and presents here and there.  We are usually last minute kind of shoppers, which puts a real strain on the pocket book.  Every year I proclaim that I will be on top of it the following year, but I am a huge procrastinator.  This year I have actually bought both of my kids one gift and picked up a few decorations.  Yeah me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we have a bigger house, we can actually have a big tree.  Not one of those tiny things you set on a table.  I have been wanting to get a nice big artificial tree, but I am waiting for that good deal.  I think I just may get it tomorrow.  I am also excited because we actually have some bushes to put lights on and some other great places to put christmas lights out side.  I have been trolling the christmas isle since they started putting the stuff out.  For what ever reason, I have this stupid rule that you cannot bring the christmas decor out until Thanksgiving night or after.  Perhaps some year I will rid myself of this silly thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do not have plans yet for Thanksgiving.  We usually alternate between my family &amp;amp; Al's every year.  This year though, no one is doing thanksgiving, so I am not sure what we will do yet.  My uncle usually has something at his place and I think my parents may be going there.  May be I can convince Al to go.  Or may be we will just have something with the four of us at home.  I really don't care as long as we are together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is not much else to say except have a wonderful day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4335558934354113416?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4335558934354113416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4335558934354113416&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4335558934354113416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4335558934354113416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-that-take-3.html' title='This &amp; that, take 3'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2490700361784291479</id><published>2007-11-16T13:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:46.239-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas shopping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rz3cOkNbS-I/AAAAAAAAAgg/MJg0wKEVVCk/s1600-h/100_0713.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133501293068504034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rz3cOkNbS-I/AAAAAAAAAgg/MJg0wKEVVCk/s320/100_0713.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I wish christmas shopping could be this easy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rz3cPUNbS_I/AAAAAAAAAgo/8J2C6bZYR_Q/s1600-h/100_0714.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133501305953405938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rz3cPUNbS_I/AAAAAAAAAgo/8J2C6bZYR_Q/s320/100_0714.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2490700361784291479?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2490700361784291479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2490700361784291479&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2490700361784291479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2490700361784291479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/christmas-shopping.html' title='Christmas shopping'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rz3cOkNbS-I/AAAAAAAAAgg/MJg0wKEVVCk/s72-c/100_0713.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-904769906563947329</id><published>2007-11-15T13:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:46.494-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little hunter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzyM_kNbS8I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/2QDAQStXjr0/s1600-h/100_0712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133132698975161282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzyM_kNbS8I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/2QDAQStXjr0/s320/100_0712.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My weekends are now Mon-Wed. So on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;monday&lt;/span&gt;, I decided to go along with Al to see his dog hunt. It just so happened that my brother and nephew were also going out, so we teamed up with them. I took my camera, in hopes of getting some great shots of the dog. Instead I got some shots of this little hunter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is pretty darn good. He got quite a few birds, not pheasants, birds. He only had a licence to shoot birds. The licence for shooting birds is much different. It is actually on a shirt. I am glad that I had this little guy along to protect me from all the wild animals, and the dirt mounds that have eyes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzyRtENbS9I/AAAAAAAAAgY/Ev8hdxwz-Aw/s1600-h/100_0711.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133137878705720274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzyRtENbS9I/AAAAAAAAAgY/Ev8hdxwz-Aw/s320/100_0711.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This sport can take a lot out of you.  Its best if you have a caddie.  One that will carry your gun &amp;amp; piggy back you back to your vehicle when you get tired.  One that can handle all of your demands.  Preferably, if you get yourself a caddie, please don't request aunt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Miah&lt;/span&gt;.  She is on vacation for the rest of the season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Thursday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&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/4404128126607392760-904769906563947329?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/904769906563947329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=904769906563947329&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/904769906563947329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/904769906563947329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/little-hunter.html' title='Little hunter'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzyM_kNbS8I/AAAAAAAAAgQ/2QDAQStXjr0/s72-c/100_0712.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1426682715277585235</id><published>2007-11-11T10:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:46.827-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Veterans Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzcmShM63XI/AAAAAAAAAgA/HC2J5pmvpzY/s1600-h/american+flag.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131612400004029810" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzcmShM63XI/AAAAAAAAAgA/HC2J5pmvpzY/s200/american+flag.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To all veterans, past, present &amp;amp; future.......Thank you. I am so amazed by your courage and sacrifices, that I can not even find the words to express my gratitude. A simply thank you is all I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9 years ago today, my grandpa Ambrose passed away. I thought it was very fitting, considering he was so proud to have served in WWII. He was a Navy Seabee. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the time of his death, I was 22 years old and still very much full of myself and did not understand of the importance of anything. I regret that I did not take the time to visit him more and learn more about his life. I never felt as though we had a close bond, and I often wondered if he even knew my name. He was not a man of many words. But he did not have to be for me to know that his veteran status was a very important part of his life. That was one thing I was certain of. And from that, I learned about pride &amp;amp; honor.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzcmbxM63YI/AAAAAAAAAgI/NNC3WmOfYQE/s1600-h/bigbeew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131612558917819778" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzcmbxM63YI/AAAAAAAAAgI/NNC3WmOfYQE/s200/bigbeew.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I regret that I never thanked my grandfather or shared in his enthusiasm, but I know that he is looking down on me and knows just how proud I am to have him as MY veteran. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you veterans! &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/4404128126607392760-1426682715277585235?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1426682715277585235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1426682715277585235&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1426682715277585235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1426682715277585235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/veterans-day.html' title='Veterans Day'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzcmShM63XI/AAAAAAAAAgA/HC2J5pmvpzY/s72-c/american+flag.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8034448672665322021</id><published>2007-11-10T11:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:47.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The new addition</title><content type='html'>I survived the night, and I allowed Al to live another day. Al brought "Lucky" home yesterday. Real original name, huh?. Apparently, he was named Lucky because he was the only pup that survived from his litter. I personally think that he was given that name because a higher power knew he would be living with fabulous me one day. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al wasted no time taking him out to check out his hunting abilities, and was apparently very impressed. Al &amp;amp; Lucky got their limit in a little over an hour.  When I got home from work, Al made sure I saw a few of Lucky's tricks. He seems like a very well behaved dog and he is absolutely beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131249123080199474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzXb5BM63TI/AAAAAAAAAfg/GScdW8eqOXE/s320/100_0708.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131249135965101378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzXb5xM63UI/AAAAAAAAAfo/VwjIkaG5rgA/s320/100_0710.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am not a huge fan of dogs living in a kennel.  Al plans to build a kennel and cut a hole in our garage so he can go in and out.  The garage is heated and Al is always in there, so I feel much better about the situation.  Plus, he has always been outside, so I guess he is used to it.  I have a feeling that Al will take him every where.  He will probably be treated better than the rest of us.  :O)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am not thrilled that I have to look at a dog kennel when I am sitting on the deck, but I guess  I can "decorate" it.  That will be interesting.  May be I can dress him up in a pink tutu when I am out there.  This is going to be fun.   Mwwhhaaahahahahah!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have a super Saturday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8034448672665322021?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8034448672665322021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8034448672665322021&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8034448672665322021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8034448672665322021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-addition.html' title='The new addition'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzXb5BM63TI/AAAAAAAAAfg/GScdW8eqOXE/s72-c/100_0708.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7742837658650325469</id><published>2007-11-09T11:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T12:01:06.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hunting partner</title><content type='html'>For the past couple of days, my husband has been relentless in his efforts to convince me that he needs a new hunting partner. Every year, when hunting season rolls around, he gets the wild idea that he needs a hunting dog. Not just any dog will do. He wants a German short hair. Every year, we have to same discussion. It always ends in an agreement, that when our big dog goes to doggie heaven, he can have his hunting dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, let me give you a little insight to this thing I call a husband, and who some of you call Al. He is a wheeler dealer bargain grabbing machine. He sniffs out great deals and can not pass on, so he snatches them up. Regardless of whether or not he all ready has 10 of the same item. This is unfortunate for me, but even more unfortunate because his most recent deal sniffing has resulted in the finding of what? You guess it. A German short hair. Not just any German short hair, a trained hunting German short hair that is too good of a deal not to pass up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This "once in a lifetime" deal, (I have heard this before) is causing my husband to pester me too death. Seriously. He is like a huge thorn in my butt that cannot be removed no matter how hard I try. It has become infected and is so irritating that it has driven me to the edge of reason. I caved. I finally agreed, for my own sanity, to let him get the dog. He is bringing it home today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tune in to tomorrows episode to find out if the lady of the house ends up in a straight jacket or if her husband mysteriously disappears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy friday ya'll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7742837658650325469?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7742837658650325469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7742837658650325469&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7742837658650325469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7742837658650325469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/hunting-partner.html' title='Hunting partner'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6211376031306003050</id><published>2007-11-08T12:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:47.733-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Antiquities</title><content type='html'>My son. He is as hard headed as his mother, if not worse. He is not going to do anything you want him to do. He decides. Needless to say, he did not do so well on the day of the photo shoot. The photographer only managed to snap about 5 pictures. This was a good thing, though. Everyones pictures have turned out so nice. If he would have cooperated, I would have gone broke buying all of the pics. Instead, there were only two pics that were good, so my mother-in-law and I split the cost and got two of the poses. And here they are.....drum roll please........&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130520666562026770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzNFXRM63RI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/umdoK3yAoz4/s320/2007-11-08-0937-30_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130520675151961378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzNFXxM63SI/AAAAAAAAAfY/TqXbS8iaeHQ/s320/2007-11-08-0930-07_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Perhaps the next Beethoven?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6211376031306003050?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6211376031306003050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6211376031306003050&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6211376031306003050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6211376031306003050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/antiquities.html' title='Antiquities'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RzNFXRM63RI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/umdoK3yAoz4/s72-c/2007-11-08-0937-30_edited.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6414147899719338202</id><published>2007-11-04T20:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-04T20:56:03.101-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;This daylights savings time has really thrown me for a loop. I think it is a combination of things, but I will gladly take the extra hour along with the rest of the stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past week has been interesting. I started working days, which is going good so far. I felt strange being part of the "real" world again. I had a few extra days off in between the shift change, so I tried to accomplish many things. I didn't really get much done, but I did get some sleep. I have been in bed every night around 8:30. Pathetic, I know. My excuse is that I am trying to make up for the lack of sleep from the past two years. It makes me feel better anyway. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all had a good time on Halloween. Colter's magical dragon suit helped him take his first independent steps. I was shocked. Needless to say, once the suit came off, he has not walked. He is pretty darn good at walking on his knees though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During my extra days off, I got to attend the Al B show. Its kind of like the Red Green show on PBS. On the show, Al demonstrated how to make old school storm windows out of caulk. At least that's what he claimed. It was more like, fixing the old windows and plastering the bad spots with the caulk. I am not sure when the show will air, but I am guessing it will be some night after Gold Fever on the outdoor channel. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else to report tonight. I hope everyone had a great weekend. Also, good luck to Kerrie tomorrow! I will be thinking about you. And to those people who smashed our pumpkins, you missed some. The rule is, you must take them all so I don't have to get rid of them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6414147899719338202?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6414147899719338202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6414147899719338202&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6414147899719338202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6414147899719338202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3860906987026750009</id><published>2007-11-02T12:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T12:30:21.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;table style="border-collapse:collapse;"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=89494477&amp;ver=102906" quality="high"  salign="lt" width="426" height="320" wmode="transparent" name="rockyou" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"/&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-size:0px;background-color:#fff; padding:1px;font-size:0px;  filter:alpha(opacity=60);-moz-opacity:.60;opacity:.60;" align="left"&gt;&lt;img src="http://apps.rockyou.com/dot.gif?w=SS&amp;d=1AE7F&amp;c=1&amp;id=89494477&amp;=.gif"&gt;&lt;a target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/?type=slideshow&amp;refid=89494477"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/images/tail_logo.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="background-color:#fff; padding:1px;font-size:0px;  filter:alpha(opacity=60);-moz-opacity:.60;opacity:.60;" align="right"&gt;&lt;a style="padding-right:0px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/slideshow_create.php?refid=89494477&amp;source=cyo"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/images/tail_create.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="padding-right:0px;" target="_BLANK" href="http://www.rockyou.com/show_my_gallery.php?instanceid=89494477"&gt;&lt;img style="border:0px;" src="http://apps.rockyou.com/images/tail_view.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-3860906987026750009?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3860906987026750009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3860906987026750009&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3860906987026750009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3860906987026750009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1591541332551436004</id><published>2007-10-31T13:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:48.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Carving</title><content type='html'>Last night Tanner and I carved our pumpkins, with little help from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Colter&lt;/span&gt;. It took all evening but we had a good time.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOFu4_JCI/AAAAAAAAAe4/KHvfGNQgwX8/s1600-h/100_0675.JPG"&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127574773643027490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOFu4_JCI/AAAAAAAAAe4/KHvfGNQgwX8/s320/100_0675.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOGe4_JDI/AAAAAAAAAfA/jw9POOufzCo/s1600-h/100_0676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127574786527929394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOGe4_JDI/AAAAAAAAAfA/jw9POOufzCo/s320/100_0676.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOGe4_JEI/AAAAAAAAAfI/511d5eIT2G0/s1600-h/100_0677a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127574786527929410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOGe4_JEI/AAAAAAAAAfI/511d5eIT2G0/s320/100_0677a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yeah, I know &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; looking hot.  Please do not stalk me now.  Gut buster there.  I will post more after this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Halloween Everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-1591541332551436004?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1591541332551436004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1591541332551436004&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1591541332551436004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1591541332551436004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/pumpkin-carving.html' title='Pumpkin Carving'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyjOFu4_JCI/AAAAAAAAAe4/KHvfGNQgwX8/s72-c/100_0675.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1887717324221556973</id><published>2007-10-29T20:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T20:42:44.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Beautiful Fall Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed src="http://widget-11.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=144115188088625425&amp;amp;site=widget-11.slide.com" style="width:400px;height:320px" name="flashticker" align="middle"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="width:400px;text-align:left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;ad=0&amp;amp;id=144115188088625425&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-11.slide.com/p1/144115188088625425/bb_t017_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide1.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;ad=0&amp;amp;id=144115188088625425&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://widget-11.slide.com/p2/144115188088625425/bb_t017_v000_a000_f00/images/xslide2.gif" border="0" ismap="ismap" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/4404128126607392760-1887717324221556973?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1887717324221556973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1887717324221556973&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1887717324221556973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1887717324221556973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/beautiful-fall-morning.html' title='A Beautiful Fall Morning'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4194346274809485392</id><published>2007-10-26T04:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:48.570-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My tumor</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Meet Chopper.  She is a dramatic diva, tap dancing princess, food addict, heating pad, vacuum cleaner, doorbell, furniture critic and a tumor.  She has a huge personality which seems to fit well with her large build.  Just look at her.  She is so huge, she takes up one whole corner of the couch cushion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyG1Ou4_JBI/AAAAAAAAAew/CllCZe5YTvc/s1600-h/100_0656.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125577115634181138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyG1Ou4_JBI/AAAAAAAAAew/CllCZe5YTvc/s320/100_0656.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; The fact that she is 1/2 pomeranian &amp;amp;1/2 minuter pincher must be the reason she is so large.  At least that is what you would believe if you had to sleep with her.  Did I mention she is also a bed hog?  You would think that since I almost always have the bed to myself, I could sleep in the middle and roll all over.  Not so.  In my queen bed, Diva chopper allows me to have about 10 inches of mattress.  The rest is hers.  I suppose if I ever become as large as her, I will just have to get another bed.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;If you happen to be staying over, you may also want to bring an extra blanket.  She likes to help you use HERS, but even a queen size comforter will not be enough for her.  You may wake up in the night half uncovered because she has mastered the tuck-n-roll move.  You should also be ready to retire for the night before she does.  If not, you might have to sleep on the floor, because she moves for no one.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Annoying?  Yes.  Worth never having pets over?  NO WAY!!  Funny how pets are such stinkers, but some of us couldn't live with out them.  Kind of like husbands.  KIDDING!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Here is to everyone having a fun loving friday and a wonderful weekend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4194346274809485392?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4194346274809485392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4194346274809485392&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4194346274809485392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4194346274809485392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-tumor.html' title='My tumor'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RyG1Ou4_JBI/AAAAAAAAAew/CllCZe5YTvc/s72-c/100_0656.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-5273792782819969226</id><published>2007-10-25T02:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T05:50:09.421-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I have been wanting to post some pictures, but the batteries went dead in my camera.  The pictures I wanted to post were on the internal memory and not the memory card.  Hopefully, tomorrow I will remember to get batteries!  So until then, I leave you with this........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#339999;"&gt;Tomorrow is my last night shift!  Woo-hoo!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a super day folks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-5273792782819969226?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/5273792782819969226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=5273792782819969226&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5273792782819969226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/5273792782819969226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-have-been-wanting-to-post-some.html' title=''/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2096385400566351308</id><published>2007-10-24T04:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T04:50:27.227-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I have a sick little boy on my hands.  Colter came down with a cold sunday.  Thankfully, he still seems to be jolly enough, so I am taking that as a good sign.  He barely slept Sunday night, and was not doing so well Monday night.  I could tell he was bushed, and I felt so bad for him.  I had Al high tail to the store before closing time, to pick up a vaporizer.  I had no idea that those things were such miracle workers.  I am so glad we decided to try it.  He managed to get a full night sleep and hopefully is on his way to feeling much better.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;I don't think I will ever get over being amazed by the little things Colter does.  He has recently started to shake his head no when I tell him no.  It is so stinking cute, I can hardly stand it.  Cute for now, anyhow.  I keep wondering if he is trying to say things, or if I am just thinking he is.  I probably will not be sure until it is blatantly obvious.  You know, like he smacks me in the face and says "Mom, I am talking to you."  I could swear he is trying to say the dog's names.  He has also started to wave bye bye more.  He eats things that shock the heck out of me, like supreme pizza.  Cut into small pieces of course.  I hope that means he will not be a picky eater. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Colter recently discovered the tattoo on my back.  When ever I lay on the floor with him, he has to lift up my shirt and point to it.  He has even tried to taste it.  He is my kid, what do you expect?  The other day, I think he was trying to tickle me.  He pulled up my shirt, touched my back, and then looked at me and laughed.  Okay.  So may be he was laughing at my roll, but I have to tell myself something.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Everyday, he seems to do something new.  I look forward to each and every day.  How could life get any better than this?  What more could I ask for?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;Enjoy your Wednesday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2096385400566351308?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2096385400566351308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2096385400566351308&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2096385400566351308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2096385400566351308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/sick-boy.html' title='Sick boy'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8100533277027915150</id><published>2007-10-23T03:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T07:21:45.211-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I love the Dr!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was my annual Dr appointment. I am a lucky gal, I know. I sped all the way down to Sioux Falls, because I just couldn't wait to get in there to see my doc and have her see me. ***Sarcasm detected*** I would have much rather taken a cheese grater to my arm, but I couldn't find it. Its still in a box somewhere. :O) Anyhow, I knew I had to go if I wanted my drugs refilled. So I tried to be as enthusiastic as I could be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of you will be happy to know that my Dr decided to keep me on my "crazy pills." For those of you who did not know, I was diagnosed with PPD (postpartum) about 3 months after Colter was born. My thoughts and understanding of PPD were much different until I actually experienced it first hand. My Dr had warned me prior to Colter's birth, that I was at high risk because of my high risk pregnancy. I thought the signs of PPD were not wanting to be a mom, feeling worthless, etc. I didn't have any of those symptoms. But apparently, wanting to bash every ones face in with a shovel is a sign too. :O) So with that, I apologize to all of you who felt the wrath of Miah during those three months. Especially my mother, who seemed to be the bulls eye on my target. Sorry mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al will not be so happy to know that they did not up my dosage. He thought perhaps I should ask the dr to, so that I would not nag at him, &lt;strong&gt;ever&lt;/strong&gt;. I think he wants me to be comatose. I did tell my dr his thoughts, but her eyes seemed to roll back in her head, and then she uttered, "may be we should get him on some happy pills." That's what I have been telling him all along. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, if your wondering, my blood pressure was normal.  They also checked my hemoglobin and it was in the very bottom of the normal range.   I am going to live!!!  No need to worry until next time.   ;O) XOXO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Tuesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8100533277027915150?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8100533277027915150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8100533277027915150&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8100533277027915150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8100533277027915150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-love-dr.html' title='I love the Dr!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8890356548868980277</id><published>2007-10-19T02:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T04:21:03.519-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Conferences</title><content type='html'>Last night we had Tanner's conferences.  All I can say is wow!  I had know idea how different things would be once he got into middle school.  Obviously, I knew it would be some what different.  I guess I was just not sure what to expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanner had to give the conference, and then his teachers would come in and talk to us.   I thought that the kids received grades for every 9 weeks, but apparently it is ever 6 weeks.  Instead of 4 nine weeks, its 6 six weeks, with the ending grade being based on the average of all of the 6 weeks combined.  Say what?  I must be getting old.  It is hard for me to accept these kinds of changes.  :O) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very happy with Tanner's grades.  He had all A's &amp;amp; B's, but of course I had to tell him that they should have all been A's.   I want him to keep trying to do his best.  His teachers all had good things to say about him.  One said he is always smiling, which makes me smile.  I am so proud of him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first arrived, he had to show us some pictures of the kids in his grade.  They had a picture of each class, and their "class name."  The class name, had to start with the teachers first letter of the teachers name.  Example, Miah's miracles.  Well his class were the "bikers".    Which according to Tanner, it was the "Big Bad Bikers."  I laughed so stinking hard at these pictures because everyone stood there so nice for the pictures.  And then there was Tanner and his friend DJ.  Tanner was flashing some kind of sign and trying to look like he was "bad".  His friend DJ was standing there with his chest pushed out and his nose in the air.  It was hilarious.  If you knew my Tanner, you would know that he is harmless and has a super tender heart.  He doesn't have a "bad" bone in his body.  Judging from the picture, I would have to say that he may just be the class clown.  I have no idea where he gets it.  ;O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a super weekend ya'll!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8890356548868980277?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8890356548868980277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8890356548868980277&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8890356548868980277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8890356548868980277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/conferences.html' title='Conferences'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7955741817092585659</id><published>2007-10-18T02:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:48.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Autism fuss</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxcDVpVWp6I/AAAAAAAAAeg/DWI5z69MEvM/s1600-h/100_0648.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122566771564783522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxcDVpVWp6I/AAAAAAAAAeg/DWI5z69MEvM/s320/100_0648.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt; I am sure a lot of you have heard all the talk about autism recently. It is driving me mad. I don't know the actual stats right off the top of my head, but its something like 1 in 150 kids are autistic. Boys seem to be affected more, with a rate being close to 1 in 90. That is some crazy stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Colter will be receiving his MMR shot in a few months. I have been trying to read up on all the articles about whether or not there is a link between autism and the MMR shot. I want to be sure I feel I am informed and make the right decision. I feel a bit sorry for our ped &amp;amp; his nurses. They will be interrogated hard at the next appointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;On top of all this, the news has been talking about a website with a video library that demonstrates signs of autism. I am telling you, I think this is going to cause a lot of parents to freak. It has certainly caused me some anguish. I have watched most of the videos, and some of the things they show as signs, Colter does. I have never thought that there was anything wrong with him, however, after viewing this website, it has put a hint of doubt in my mind. I think it is an unnecessary. I am not telling you the link if you do not all ready know, because I think everyone may be able to find something on those videos that you can relate to your child. It should in no way be used to diagnose your child. I can see mass hysteria in the near future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;On a happier note, the sitter said Colter said "Hi there!" to her cat again today. Why does everyone else get in on all the fun. I guess the cat is more exciting than poor old mom. :O) Any how, I sometimes find it hard to believe, but today I was shocked when she told me. Every morning, I say to Colter, "Good morning. Hi there. How are you." And after every nap, I also say "Hi there." So he may have indeed said that. Perhaps he will say it to me one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;That be all for today. Have a terrific Thursday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7955741817092585659?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7955741817092585659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7955741817092585659&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7955741817092585659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7955741817092585659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-am-sure-lot-of-you-have-heard-all.html' title='Autism fuss'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxcDVpVWp6I/AAAAAAAAAeg/DWI5z69MEvM/s72-c/100_0648.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7263089343093976071</id><published>2007-10-17T05:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T05:51:28.402-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This &amp; that, take 2</title><content type='html'>All though this past weekend was dreary for most, it was darn exciting for a few. I am so happy for my BFF Paula and her family. They made a huge purchase that will change their lives immensely. They purchased a house! Its a four bedroom, two bath, in a little town about 15 minutes from Sioux falls and it has a large yard for the kids &amp;amp; dog to play in. It is a picture perfect family home. The only thing missing is the white picket fence. They are finally getting out of the big city trailer court and into a great community for their children. I am so proud of Jake &amp;amp; Paula. They have both come a long way. I am tickled that they have a great place to raise a family and make some great memories. Congrats to them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was my excitement for the weekend. They purchased the house via an estate auction, and as soon as I heard it was theirs, I jumped in my vehicle and burned rubber all the way there. There was no way I could just sit at home and be happy. I had to get there ASAP to give her a big hug, and of course, see her new home. I had hoped to head into Sioux Falls afterwards to find a Halloween costume for Tanner, but I was tired and decided to just head back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, Al wanted to go to Sioux Falls to look at guns so I decided to tag along in the hopes of finding Tanner a costume. For those of you who do not know, my husband is a gun collector. Sigh. I do not know exactly how many he has now, but I think it is too many. I am sure he has way more than I even know about. He "forgets" to tell me of his purchases from time to time. He tries to smooth over his new purchases by saying they are for the kids. I am not sure how many guns a 12 year old needs, but lets just say Tanner has more than enough. I told Al I didn't think he needed any more for a while, so his most recent wanted purchase, he said was going to be for Colter. He does not have any guns yet. Not sure what my 13 month old will do with an AK47, but you never know. I am sure he will have more than his fair share too. Mmmm, I just had a light bulb moment. Al will eventually need another excuse to buy more guns, so perhaps he will need to have another child. ;O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did manage to get Tanner a mask at the halloween store in the mall. There stuff was not exactly cheap. I really wanted Colter to be a monkey, but the monkey costume they had was $30.00, and it was just cheesy., The material was very thin, etc. I decided to head over to old navy and what do you know. Their costumes were 50% off. I got him a dragon costume for $12.00 and it is no where near cheesy. I also got some great deals on clothes for myself. I bought 3 pairs of pants for work, and 3 tops, all for under 60 bucks. That is unheard of, to me any way. I never see deals like that. I was super excited. So if your in Sioux Falls, check out old navy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have one other thing I wanted to share with you. Someone left some magazines at work and one of them is called &lt;a href="http://www.allyou.com/"&gt;All You.&lt;/a&gt;   I love it!  It has some great tips for cleaning, hair, makeup, etc.  It has some great recipes and coupons too.  I have never heard of it or seen it before, but I am definitely subscribing to this magazine.  Ladies, you should check it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all folks!  Have a happy wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7263089343093976071?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7263089343093976071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7263089343093976071&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7263089343093976071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7263089343093976071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/this-that-take-2.html' title='This &amp; that, take 2'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7708134381783811207</id><published>2007-10-16T03:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T03:18:28.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Walkin' with my truck</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height='350' width='425'&gt;&lt;param value='http://youtube.com/v/hfLY6IsC-BI' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;embed height='350' width='425' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' src='http://youtube.com/v/hfLY6IsC-BI'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Last night, I was going 90 folding clothes and picking things up.  I kept hearing this noise of Colter moving something across the floor.  After I finished folding my clothes I turned around to see him pushing his truck all around the house.  I was so excited that he finally figured out what he was suppose to do with it.  I bet it won't be much longer before he braves it on his own.  I have a short video of the big event.  I used my camera because that was right there and handy.  The quality is pretty poor, but oh well!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all have a great week!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7708134381783811207?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7708134381783811207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7708134381783811207&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7708134381783811207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7708134381783811207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/walkin-with-my-truck.html' title='Walkin&amp;#39; with my truck'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2123081577133039032</id><published>2007-10-16T03:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:49.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxRj35VWp4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/A6BLk5tBvOw/s1600-h/100_0650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121828488161437570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxRj35VWp4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/A6BLk5tBvOw/s320/100_0650.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxRj5JVWp5I/AAAAAAAAAeY/4gotE5XMtoE/s1600-h/100_0651.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121828509636274066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxRj5JVWp5I/AAAAAAAAAeY/4gotE5XMtoE/s320/100_0651.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2123081577133039032?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2123081577133039032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2123081577133039032&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2123081577133039032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2123081577133039032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RxRj35VWp4I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/A6BLk5tBvOw/s72-c/100_0650.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-6979554589615872923</id><published>2007-10-12T04:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T08:36:18.300-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the title</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330000;"&gt;Caution: This is going to be a very random post. You may experience confusion, dizziness, nausea and a decrease in brain cells. Reader discretion is advised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since nothing earth shattering has been happening, I don't have anything really juicy to talk about today. But, I am an addict and need to blog so I will bore you all with random tidbits and thoughts for the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encyclopedia boy has returned. I sometimes have to slap myself when I realize that I am arguing with a 12 year old. I made taco's monday night, and Encyclopedia boy (Tanner) informed me that he did not like the kind of lettuce that I had. He only likes the shredded kind of lettuce. I told him it was the same thing, just cut differently but he was not having it. Shredded lettuce comes from a certain kind of lettuce and it is not the same. I thought you should all know. Don't be fooled by impostor heads of lettuce saying they are the shredded kind. It could happen. Another quick note, almost everything you see on cartoons is a fact, or real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The paper boy/girl? The one that my babysitter and I were convinced was a boy?. Its a girl. Last friday, we were standing on the step when paper boy/girl came and I notice that it looked like it was wearing a bra. My babysitter said something to paper it, and it answered back in a femme voice. We decided may be it was a girl. Then this past week, there were pictures in the paper of all the carriers with their names. Turns out paper boy/girls name is Misty. Definitely a girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house progress? Nada. Al has been working on getting the garage done, because we will be needing it to work on house stuff when it gets cold. We will need heat, etc. Its a good excuse for him to get his garage done, but I am sure his motives for completing it are not 100% because of the house work. I am guessing more like 15% house, 85% tinkering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, in three more weeks or so, we will be able to pick up the pace on the house. After today's shift, I will officially have two more weeks of nights and then I will be going to days. I am sad and happy. I am sad because I will miss my friend whose shift I will be picking up, and because I really do enjoy working this shift. However, I am so glad I will be going to days because it means I will have more time with my family and Al &amp;amp; I will actually have days off together. Its been a busy and rough year, trying to juggle our schedules. With a new baby, new house, and us hardly seeing each other, it will be a much welcomed changed. I may actually feel like I will have a social life again. And people will not have to worry about having a shotgun shoved in their face when they wake me up during the day. :O)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya'll have a super fantastic weekend, ya here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-6979554589615872923?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/6979554589615872923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=6979554589615872923&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6979554589615872923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/6979554589615872923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/caution-this-is-going-to-be-very-random.html' title='This is the title'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1435561503795761630</id><published>2007-10-11T02:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T03:06:04.829-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Domesticated?</title><content type='html'>I have not posted much this week because it is killing me to sit here.  Have you ever had your hip out?  If you have, then you know how much fun it can be.  I managed to throw mine out again on Monday evening.  This is by far the worst it has ever been out.  I did go to the bone crusher Tuesday morning, and I can actually walk now, but I think I am going to have to go back for more.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet you have had thoughts or are wondering how I threw out my hip.  Well, get your mind out of the gutter people.  I can't believe I have to admit this, but I was doing laundry when it happened.  I threw my hip out picking up a laundry basket.  Not too exotic, is it?  Unless, you are one of those freaky deaky's who have a bizarre love affair with your washing machine &amp;amp; its spin cycle.  If you are, then I got news for you.  You are a PERVERT!  You need to register on some sort of list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough about that.  Not much has been going on lately.  I am almost positive that Colter has said a few words.  Ball &amp;amp; Hi.  I told him to get the ball about three times in a row, and after each time he said bow.  I have also thought that he has said Hi to me before, but was not sure.  Today the babysitter said he said hi twice to her cat.  He is still not walking, just cruising.  He loves to climb on things.  I often catch him trying to climb the gates.  Luckily he can't, but I did see him standing on one of his toys the other day and he was trying to nose dive over the gate.  There is never a dull moment.  Other than that, not much else to report. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great Thursday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-1435561503795761630?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1435561503795761630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1435561503795761630&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1435561503795761630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1435561503795761630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/domesticated.html' title='Domesticated?'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-8672477969674570321</id><published>2007-10-10T01:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:49.345-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Trainie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Just be glad I am not &lt;strong&gt;YOUR&lt;/strong&gt; kids aunt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119583113618827122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rwxpt5VWp3I/AAAAAAAAAeI/4nBE1mpRnSQ/s320/100_0643.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-8672477969674570321?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/8672477969674570321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=8672477969674570321&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8672477969674570321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/8672477969674570321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-trainie.html' title='My Trainie'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rwxpt5VWp3I/AAAAAAAAAeI/4nBE1mpRnSQ/s72-c/100_0643.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-2066546355712095259</id><published>2007-10-05T03:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:49.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Attempts to be sneaky</title><content type='html'>Why do men try to be sneaky? Don't they know that mom's are all knowing? Don't they know I have eyes in the back of my head? Don't they know that I have a super human memory when it comes to naughtiness. I love the look on Tanner's face when I call him on something. It's one of amazed wonderment and it is priceless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Normally, Tanner is the one trying to pull the wool over my eyes. I guess Al did not want to miss out on all of the fun. The other day as I pulled into the driveway, I happened to glance up and see this.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117754114680727378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXqQJVWp1I/AAAAAAAAAd4/_eKCND3T-EE/s320/100_0638.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; you are all thinking "Yeah, so?" That would have been my thoughts to, but if you take a closer look, you can see a statue up there. This is a fountain for my yard. It has a little boy &amp;amp; girl on it. Your still saying "Yeah, so?" Well take a closer look at the picture below.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117755257142028130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXrSpVWp2I/AAAAAAAAAeA/b22alj2W1Ts/s320/100_0637.JPG" border="0" /&gt;No, this is not a little boy wearing a dress. Its a headless girl making it appear that way. The poor little girl has been decapitated. Her head laying in the filthy pond below. Who could do such a thing? I had a pretty good idea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I waited a few minutes, and then I approached my husband and asked him casually what happened to the little girls head. His look....priceless. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; made a confession, however he stated that it was an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;accident&lt;/span&gt;. He never meant to hurt her. (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; what they all say.) He hid the evidence in the the attic of the garage, with the intentions of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;gluing&lt;/span&gt; her head back on in the hopes that I would never find out. He honestly &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;believed&lt;/span&gt; that I would not sense anything was wrong. Well, I guess I showed him. He will be serving a fairly long sentence for this one. :O)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;fantastic&lt;/span&gt; weekend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ya'll&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-2066546355712095259?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/2066546355712095259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=2066546355712095259&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2066546355712095259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/2066546355712095259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/attempts-to-be-sneaky.html' title='Attempts to be sneaky'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXqQJVWp1I/AAAAAAAAAd4/_eKCND3T-EE/s72-c/100_0638.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-310891982390262199</id><published>2007-10-05T02:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:50.042-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Father Son Bonding</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXchJVWpzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/tLfOcOGQFU4/s1600-h/100_0639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117739013575714610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXchJVWpzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/tLfOcOGQFU4/s320/100_0639.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;A great way to bond with your son is to teach him how to change the oil in vehicles. Hopefully, the end result will be that you can pass on the duties to him, right Al?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Yesterday afternoon, Tanner got the honors of doing his first oil change. Under the close supervision of dad or course. I guess my vehicle was their guinea pig. I have to make a trip to Sioux Falls today, so we will see if Tanner was successful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;It seems so crazy that Tanner is big enough to learn things like this, yet he still seems so young. I must face the fact that in 2 more years, he will be able to drive. SCARY!! Okay, well may be I will try to face it in another year or so. I don't want to think about it now. I find myself thinking he is still a little boy and trying to protect him from everything. I know he still needs guidance, etc, but I think I could loosen the apron strings a little bit more. But I probably won't. :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;Tanner also attended his first "social" (dance) last week. He was so worried about not having a date. 6th grade people. I told him he did not need a date and he should go with his pals. He finally decided to go. They attended the homecoming game afterwards, and he had a great time. I am so glad he did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I never did post Tanners school pictures, so here you go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117746808941356866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXjm5VWp0I/AAAAAAAAAdw/oAjBbdGfWnQ/s320/2007-10-05-0127-04_edited.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;I think they turned out pretty darn good.&lt;/span&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/4404128126607392760-310891982390262199?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/310891982390262199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=310891982390262199&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/310891982390262199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/310891982390262199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/father-son-bonding.html' title='Father Son Bonding'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXchJVWpzI/AAAAAAAAAdo/tLfOcOGQFU4/s72-c/100_0639.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4767858627945533331</id><published>2007-10-05T02:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:50.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Attack!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333399;"&gt;It seems every time I get my camera out these days, this little munchkin attacks.    He is always ready for his close up, and if he can't get it, he will knock you down and crawl on top of you.  You have been warned!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXamJVWpwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/TbQn7Vd9jNo/s1600-h/100_0641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117736900451804930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXamJVWpwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/TbQn7Vd9jNo/s320/100_0641.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXampVWpxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/0wqfjWLO8fI/s1600-h/100_0642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117736909041739538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXampVWpxI/AAAAAAAAAdY/0wqfjWLO8fI/s320/100_0642.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXam5VWpyI/AAAAAAAAAdg/8DjNQURjbr4/s1600-h/100_0640.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117736913336706850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXam5VWpyI/AAAAAAAAAdg/8DjNQURjbr4/s320/100_0640.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4767858627945533331?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4767858627945533331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4767858627945533331&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4767858627945533331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4767858627945533331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/attack.html' title='Attack!!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwXamJVWpwI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/TbQn7Vd9jNo/s72-c/100_0641.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-3389080058331328264</id><published>2007-10-04T04:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:51.385-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parade</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was a relaxing one and it was much welcomed.  As most of you all ready know, our annual parade was on Saturday.  I was excited to take Colter but unsure how he would react to the sirens and sitting in his stroller the whole time.  He was so good.  He just sat there staring the whole time.  I took him out of his stroller once, and he got fussy, so I put him back in and he was fine.  This was his basically his first parade.  I did take him last year, but he was only a month old.  I can't wait until next year when he may actually be able to participate in the candy gathering.  Well, may be I can. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little disappointed with the parade this year.  It seemed there were hardly any bands and the floats were nothing special.  It looked like they just threw them together a 1/2 hour before the parade started.  Sad.  I think next year, I am going to throw together a float and show them what a float is suppose to be.  Perhaps it could be the blogger mom float.  LOL!!!  Yes, I am crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than having a glorious cold, not much has been happening.  I am planning on getting to Sears to pick up Colters pictures on friday.  I have a birthday party to attend on Saturday and I thought it would be nice to get much of my family their pictures then.  Then I will have less to mail.  So hopefully this next week, the rest of family will be receiving their pics.  As long as I don't forget.  I still have CRS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now.  I hope you all have a great Thursday!  I leave you with a few pictures of parade day.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Deep in thought&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe8JVWptI/AAAAAAAAAc4/nxtUTf4l3MI/s1600-h/100_0635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117389832734549714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe8JVWptI/AAAAAAAAAc4/nxtUTf4l3MI/s320/100_0635.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cousins~ Chase, Brayden, Colter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe8pVWpuI/AAAAAAAAAdA/IAG-FnbGRaE/s1600-h/100_0630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117389841324484322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe8pVWpuI/AAAAAAAAAdA/IAG-FnbGRaE/s320/100_0630.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ah yes, brotherly love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe9JVWpvI/AAAAAAAAAdI/Fev4PuKDc9Q/s1600-h/100_0631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117389849914418930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe9JVWpvI/AAAAAAAAAdI/Fev4PuKDc9Q/s320/100_0631.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Oh Schnikey.  I almost forgot.  Yesterday was my nephew Chases 2nd Birthday.  Happy birthday buddy!  You are Aunt Miah's Favorite 2 year old.  Love ya!&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/4404128126607392760-3389080058331328264?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/3389080058331328264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=3389080058331328264&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3389080058331328264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/3389080058331328264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/parade.html' title='Parade'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RwSe8JVWptI/AAAAAAAAAc4/nxtUTf4l3MI/s72-c/100_0635.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7017228284801079241</id><published>2007-10-03T04:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T04:20:35.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Your madlibs!!</title><content type='html'>I was going to just use so many of every ones answers, but how could I do that? You all get to read your own mad lib. I was going to finish Jamie's for her, but I didn't think it was fair since I all ready knew what the mad lib was. You can still finish it if you want to, or we can do a special one just for you! Any way, you have all re-written the lyrics to the song "I will survive".   Here are your versions of the song...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;~~Paula's~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First I was &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;crabby&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;jumped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kept thinking I could never &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;lick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without you by my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;toe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I spent so many &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;staplers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinking how you did me wrong&lt;br /&gt;I grew &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;runny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned how to get along&lt;br /&gt;and so you`re back&lt;br /&gt;from outer &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;bathroom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;cooked&lt;/span&gt; to find you here&lt;br /&gt;with that &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;old &lt;/span&gt;look upon your &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;scalp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have changed that stupid &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;sock&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have made you &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;kick &lt;/span&gt;your key&lt;br /&gt;If I had known for just &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you`d be back to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;throw&lt;/span&gt; me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on now go &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;eat&lt;/span&gt; the door&lt;br /&gt;just turn around now&lt;br /&gt;`cause you`re not &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;hairy&lt;/span&gt; anymore&lt;br /&gt;weren`t you the one who &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;hugged&lt;/span&gt; to hurt me with goodbye&lt;br /&gt;you think I`d crumble&lt;br /&gt;you think I`d lay down and &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;push&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not I&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;drag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as long as i know how to love&lt;br /&gt;I know I will stay &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;brown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I`ve got all my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;sponge&lt;/span&gt; to live&lt;br /&gt;I`ve got all my love to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;build&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I`ll &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;drag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;drag&lt;/span&gt; (hey hey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took all the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;beavers&lt;/span&gt; I had&lt;br /&gt;not to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kept trying hard to mend&lt;br /&gt;the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;pencils&lt;/span&gt; of my broken &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;armpit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I spent oh so many &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;staplers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just feeling sorry for myself&lt;br /&gt;I used to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;sleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I hold my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;eyeball&lt;/span&gt; up high&lt;br /&gt;and you see me&lt;br /&gt;somebody new&lt;br /&gt;I`m not that chained up &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;itchy&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;carpet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who fell in love with you&lt;br /&gt;and so you felt like &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;dancing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and just expect me to be &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;shiny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now I`m saving all my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;protruding&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for someone who`s &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;protruding&lt;/span&gt; me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;~~Erins~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;td&gt;First I was &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;scared&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;walked&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kept thinking I could never &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;leap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without you by my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;elbow&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I spent so many &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;cars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinking how you did me wrong&lt;br /&gt;I grew &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;juicy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned how to get along&lt;br /&gt;and so you`re back&lt;br /&gt;from outer &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;bathroom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;hammered&lt;/span&gt; to find you here&lt;br /&gt;with that &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;long&lt;/span&gt; look upon your &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;eye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have changed that stupid &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;underpants&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have made you &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;spray&lt;/span&gt; your key&lt;br /&gt;If I had known for just &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;5 to 7 days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you`d be back to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;hop&lt;/span&gt; me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on now go &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;shout&lt;/span&gt; the door&lt;br /&gt;just turn around now&lt;br /&gt;`cause you`re not &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;nasty&lt;/span&gt; anymore&lt;br /&gt;weren`t you the one who &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;yawned&lt;/span&gt; to hurt me with goodbye&lt;br /&gt;you think I`d crumble&lt;br /&gt;you think I`d lay down and &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;bite&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not I&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;carry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as long as i know how to love&lt;br /&gt;I know I will stay &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;sweet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I`ve got all my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;cup&lt;/span&gt; to live&lt;br /&gt;I`ve got all my love to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;wash&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I`ll &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;carry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;carry&lt;/span&gt; (hey hey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took all the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;skunks&lt;/span&gt; I had&lt;br /&gt;not to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;draw&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kept trying hard to mend&lt;br /&gt;the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;dice&lt;/span&gt; of my broken &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;neck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I spent oh so many &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;cars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just feeling sorry for myself&lt;br /&gt;I used to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;talk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I hold my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;lips&lt;/span&gt; up high&lt;br /&gt;and you see me&lt;br /&gt;somebody new&lt;br /&gt;I`m not that chained up &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;dry&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;toilet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who fell in love with you&lt;br /&gt;and so you felt like &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;grabbing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and just expect me to be &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;crusty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now I`m saving all my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;spitting&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for someone who`s &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;spitting&lt;/span&gt; me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;~~Lori's~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;First I was &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;sad&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;tired&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kept thinking I could never &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;run&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;without you by my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;arms&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I spent so many &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thinking how you did me wrong&lt;br /&gt;I grew &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;heavy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned how to get along&lt;br /&gt;and so you`re back&lt;br /&gt;from outer &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;raided&lt;/span&gt; to find you here&lt;br /&gt;with that &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;light&lt;/span&gt; look upon your &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;legs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have changed that stupid &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;shirt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have made you &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;see&lt;/span&gt; your key&lt;br /&gt;If I had known for just &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;1 week&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you`d be back to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;feel&lt;/span&gt; me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go on now go &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;taste&lt;/span&gt; the door&lt;br /&gt;just turn around now&lt;br /&gt;`cause you`re not &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;bigger&lt;/span&gt; anymore&lt;br /&gt;weren`t you the one who &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;waited&lt;/span&gt; to hurt me with goodbye&lt;br /&gt;you think I`d crumble&lt;br /&gt;you think I`d lay down and &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh no, not I&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;hit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as long as i know how to love&lt;br /&gt;I know I will stay &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;taller&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I`ve got all my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;store&lt;/span&gt; to live&lt;br /&gt;I`ve got all my love to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;take&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I`ll &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;hit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;hit&lt;/span&gt; (hey hey)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took all the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;cows&lt;/span&gt; I had&lt;br /&gt;not to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;slept&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kept trying hard to mend&lt;br /&gt;the &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;toys&lt;/span&gt; of my broken &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I spent oh so many &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;books&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just feeling sorry for myself&lt;br /&gt;I used to &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;sit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I hold my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;head&lt;/span&gt; up high&lt;br /&gt;and you see me&lt;br /&gt;somebody new&lt;br /&gt;I`m not that chained up &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;small&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who fell in love with you&lt;br /&gt;and so you felt like &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;walking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and just expect me to be &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;smiley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now I`m saving all my &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;talking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for someone who`s &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; TEXT-TRANSFORM: capitalize"&gt;talking&lt;/span&gt; me &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7017228284801079241?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7017228284801079241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7017228284801079241&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7017228284801079241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7017228284801079241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/10/your-madlibs.html' title='Your madlibs!!'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-130748460537195248</id><published>2007-09-28T02:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T03:33:17.143-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mad libs</title><content type='html'>Do you remember these when you were a kid?  I always had to get the new one as soon as it came out in the scholastic book order.  My friends and I had a blast with these.  We would laugh so hard, our belly's would hurt.  I don't know if they would be as fun now, but I am willing to give it a shot.  With the help of my blogger pals of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need 33 words, so you are all going to have to give me more than one.  Once we get all the words, I'll post the finished mad lib.  Here we go..........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;emotion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb ending in "ed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;body part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;noun (plural)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;adjective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb ending in "ed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;adjective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;body part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;article of clothing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;time span&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;adjective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb ending in "ed"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;adjective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;noun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;animal (plural)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;noun (plural)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;body part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;body part&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;adjective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;noun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb ending in "ing"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;adjective&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;verb ending in "ing"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;TGIF!!  Have a great day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-130748460537195248?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/130748460537195248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=130748460537195248&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/130748460537195248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/130748460537195248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/mad-libs.html' title='Mad libs'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-1906771899337765777</id><published>2007-09-27T02:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T06:50:32.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The cool kids</title><content type='html'>I am not really sure how or where to start this post.  I really do not like to do downer posts, but this is weighing heavily on my mind this morning.   Last night, while I was napping before work, Tanner had a pretty serious Q &amp;amp; A session with his dad.  I know his dad probably gave him some great advice, but I still feel the need to put in my two cents.  So this meddling momma will have to bring it up over supper this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tanner is apparently being picked on at school by the "cool" kids.  He has never really been into athletics, but he will try to play on the school yard with them.  The "jocks" are mean to him and tell him that he sucks.  He thinks that if he goes out for sports, then may be he will be "cool".   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all know the drill, because we have all been there before.  Whether you were one of the "cool" kids, a "nerd", a bada$$ or a floater.  We all know what a click is all about.  As much as I wish this would end, I know that it never will.  I have wondered about Tanner's "social" status at school from time to time, but I do not let it consume me.  I know how he feels, and I my heart aches for him.  But I absolutely do not want him to try to be something he is not, just so he can fit in.  I know right now it will not matter much to him, but I happen to think he is a pretty cool kid.  To me, cool is what is on the inside.  Not how much your bike cost, how many gadgets you have, or how many sports you can play.  If you don't have soul, then what good are those things?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I want my children to have more than I did.  We all do.  But I do not want my children to be materialistic jerks who only think of themselves and how they can top what so &amp;amp; so has.  I want my children to have compassion, integrity, self respect, etc.  I would rather have my child be a dork with a heart who is respected, than a self absorbed arrogant a$$. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of our possessions will not matter one bit when we leave this world.  They will be sold off, or given to family.  Sure, they will think about you when they spend your money, or bump into your old stuff, but that is about it.  What happens when the money &amp;amp; stuff is gone?  Will you still be remembered? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of being remembered for what I did or didn't have, I would want to be remembered for the things I did, the lives I touched, the kindness I shared, my wonderful :O) personality and perhaps the awesome chip dip I made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreams for my children are that they have a lot of great qualities to fill there sole, not a lot of possessions to fill there garage.  I want them to be happy and live fulfilling lives.  I hope that I can instill great values, and give them the confidence they need to be okay with who they are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am here to tell those "cool" kids and the world,  that my Stepson Tanner is one of the coolest kids in the world.  If you can not see that, then you better take a step back and perhaps re-evaluate your life.  Because you are truly missing out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God bless you all,&lt;br /&gt;Momma Bear&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-1906771899337765777?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/1906771899337765777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=1906771899337765777&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1906771899337765777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/1906771899337765777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/cool-kids.html' title='The cool kids'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7332268700004973225</id><published>2007-09-26T03:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T03:55:30.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The incredible shrinking bum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Why is it that the one thing that I don't need to be shrinking......is.  I know that I should be grateful that I am obviously making some kind of progress, but come on!  I have no bum to begin with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I am not sure if my mushroom cap is getting bigger or what, because according to my LYING scale, I have not lost any weight recently.  Yet, I continuously have to hike up my pants.  Will someone please tell my bum that I am not interested in being a plumber.  And please explain to me how it is possible that your pants can feel tight, yet you have to wear a belt to keep the backside from falling down.  Could it be, my dreaded mushroom cap is pushing my pants down its little stem?  How does one rid there self of this disgusting fungus? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;I have heard a lot of mom's complain about their hips and bums, but I have never heard of one with my problems.  I know I am an odd ball, but why oh why do I have to be all alone too?  Right now, I feel like I would rather be shaped like a pear than a mushroom.  At least a pear is sweet, and desirable.  Mushrooms are just a fungus.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;There is a humongous fungus among us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;Oh Happy Day!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7332268700004973225?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7332268700004973225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7332268700004973225&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7332268700004973225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7332268700004973225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/incredible-shrinking-bum.html' title='The incredible shrinking bum'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4141035999014322283</id><published>2007-09-24T13:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:52.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Colters 1 year pictures</title><content type='html'>I know some of you have been waiting patiently for me to get Colter's pictures done. Well, we did it today. So be checking your mailboxes in a few weeks. I just wanted to share them with you. He did not cooperate to well, but sears did manage to get a few good ones. Enjoy! &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf8QCo2tyI/AAAAAAAAAcc/DyQv2EzeGmI/s1600-h/s42872ca110334_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113833254418822946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf8QCo2tyI/AAAAAAAAAcc/DyQv2EzeGmI/s400/s42872ca110334_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf8Ayo2txI/AAAAAAAAAcU/w5oTqcD92hg/s1600-h/s42872ca110334_9_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113832992425817874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf8Ayo2txI/AAAAAAAAAcU/w5oTqcD92hg/s400/s42872ca110334_9_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7pio2tsI/AAAAAAAAAbs/nxcdbvSPL88/s1600-h/s42872ca110334_1_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113832592993859266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7pio2tsI/AAAAAAAAAbs/nxcdbvSPL88/s400/s42872ca110334_1_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7qio2tuI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rCjKOVYzJyI/s1600-h/s42872ca110334_4_0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113832610173728482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7qio2tuI/AAAAAAAAAb8/rCjKOVYzJyI/s400/s42872ca110334_4_0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7qyo2tvI/AAAAAAAAAcE/DDDGA261d_8/s1600-h/s42872ca110334_5_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113832614468695794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7qyo2tvI/AAAAAAAAAcE/DDDGA261d_8/s400/s42872ca110334_5_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7rCo2twI/AAAAAAAAAcM/-bdOB5x5XJM/s1600-h/s42872ca110334_8_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113832618763663106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7rCo2twI/AAAAAAAAAcM/-bdOB5x5XJM/s400/s42872ca110334_8_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113832605878761170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf7qSo2ttI/AAAAAAAAAb0/XtO1vmSCv80/s400/s42872ca110334_2_0.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4141035999014322283?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4141035999014322283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4141035999014322283&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4141035999014322283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4141035999014322283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/colters-1-year-pictures.html' title='Colters 1 year pictures'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/Rvf8QCo2tyI/AAAAAAAAAcc/DyQv2EzeGmI/s72-c/s42872ca110334_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-4883429948755332224</id><published>2007-09-21T03:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:52.899-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paper person incident</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvOMrCo2toI/AAAAAAAAAbE/SobeNprkUxk/s1600-h/sweeney_pat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112584673066137218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvOMrCo2toI/AAAAAAAAAbE/SobeNprkUxk/s320/sweeney_pat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, everyday when I pick Colter up from the sitters, I have been arriving the same time as the paper person. This person, I would guess, is around 13 years old. They have some wild hair, much like an afro, and is heavier set, with a noticeable chest. I have found myself wondering if it is a boy or a girl. Apparently, I am not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, as I was leaving the sitters, two boys that are about 10 years old, where riding by on a bike. The paper person was just going to cross the street as they came by. The boys on the bike yelled out, "Are you a boy or a girl?!" They must have saw the horrified look on my face because they said to me, "Not you. We know what you are."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All though I too had pondered the same thing and did chuckle to myself, I was horrified by the question. Imagine what the paper person must have felt. The paper person, just kept walking, but unless it was deaf, they heard these boys. I hope this person is not picked on like this all of the time. It saddens my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This kind of thinking has made me some unwanted fans. Call me a sucker, but I can't help but have a soft spot for those who are picked on or are less fortunate. Everybody needs a friend sometimes. Do something nice for somebody today. Somebody you normally wouldn't associate with. Even if its just a smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a super day everyone! And enjoy your weekends!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-4883429948755332224?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/4883429948755332224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=4883429948755332224&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4883429948755332224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/4883429948755332224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/paper-person-incident.html' title='Paper person incident'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvOMrCo2toI/AAAAAAAAAbE/SobeNprkUxk/s72-c/sweeney_pat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-7767556833902939485</id><published>2007-09-20T14:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:53.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just for Tracy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt;This has been the best toy I have purchased by far! Colter loves it. I bought it for his birthday. While I was putting it together, he would not stop playing with all of the stuff. It is by fischer price and it is called the laugh &amp;amp; learn learning home. I bought it at toys r us. Here is the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2265260&amp;amp;cp=2255956.2269725.2269727&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;fbx=0&amp;amp;fbn=Taxonomy%7CElectronic+Learning&amp;amp;f=PAD%2FTRU+Age+Filter%2F12-24+Months&amp;amp;f=PAD%2FTRU+Age+Filter%2F12-24+Months&amp;amp;f=Taxonomy%2FTRUS%2F2255959&amp;amp;f=Taxonomy%2FTRUS%2F2256390&amp;amp;fbc=1&amp;amp;categoryId=2269727&amp;amp;parentPage=search"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;link&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#339999;"&gt; for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.toysrus.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2265260&amp;amp;cp=2255956.2269725.2269727&amp;amp;view=all&amp;amp;fbx=0&amp;amp;fbn=Taxonomy%7CElectronic+Learning&amp;amp;f=PAD%2FTRU+Age+Filter%2F12-24+Months&amp;amp;f=PAD%2FTRU+Age+Filter%2F12-24+Months&amp;amp;f=Taxonomy%2FTRUS%2F2255959&amp;amp;f=Taxonomy%2FTRUS%2F2256390&amp;amp;fbc=1&amp;amp;categoryId=2269727&amp;amp;parentPage=search"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvLBj8Yb5HI/AAAAAAAAAa0/3OjASrjflIc/s1600-h/pTRU1-2789362dt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112361350267135090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvLBj8Yb5HI/AAAAAAAAAa0/3OjASrjflIc/s320/pTRU1-2789362dt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvLBkMYb5II/AAAAAAAAAa8/ocdCvKvfy40/s1600-h/pTRU1-2789362_alternate1_dt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112361354562102402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvLBkMYb5II/AAAAAAAAAa8/ocdCvKvfy40/s320/pTRU1-2789362_alternate1_dt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-7767556833902939485?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/7767556833902939485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=7767556833902939485&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7767556833902939485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/7767556833902939485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/just-for-tracy.html' title='Just for Tracy'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvLBj8Yb5HI/AAAAAAAAAa0/3OjASrjflIc/s72-c/pTRU1-2789362dt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4404128126607392760.post-714154136614992359</id><published>2007-09-20T04:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T10:54:54.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More photo's</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Happy Boy!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrqcYb5DI/AAAAAAAAAaU/WVOHP072r4w/s1600-h/100_0609.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112196535192118322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrqcYb5DI/AAAAAAAAAaU/WVOHP072r4w/s320/100_0609.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; I love to open, close and go through doors.  I can do this for hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrqsYb5EI/AAAAAAAAAac/YPBlW2GK2Sg/s1600-h/100_0611.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112196539487085634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrqsYb5EI/AAAAAAAAAac/YPBlW2GK2Sg/s320/100_0611.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Yeah, I know I am cool dad, but I don't need your stinking shades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrrMYb5FI/AAAAAAAAAak/terRVZQOSvg/s1600-h/100_0608.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112196548077020242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrrMYb5FI/AAAAAAAAAak/terRVZQOSvg/s320/100_0608.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Enough paparazzi for one day, thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrrcYb5GI/AAAAAAAAAas/WTA_v9oquyw/s1600-h/100_0607.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112196552371987554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrrcYb5GI/AAAAAAAAAas/WTA_v9oquyw/s320/100_0607.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Have a super day ya'll!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4404128126607392760-714154136614992359?l=thefantastikfour.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/feeds/714154136614992359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4404128126607392760&amp;postID=714154136614992359&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/714154136614992359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4404128126607392760/posts/default/714154136614992359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thefantastikfour.blogspot.com/2007/09/more-photos.html' title='More photo&apos;s'/><author><name>A mom</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/R4o1JEVamVI/AAAAAAAAAjU/lWKW595teGI/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_t-18P5zc5Kc/RvIrqcYb5DI/AAAAAAAAAaU/WVOHP072r4w/s72-c/100_0609.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry></feed>
