<?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-3551585128195721279</id><updated>2011-07-07T15:31:01.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A glimpse of our life</title><subtitle type='html'>It may not be exciting, but it's our life.  We love to share, so please enjoy a glimpse of our life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>62</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6140670789606323477</id><published>2010-05-27T13:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T14:37:54.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vegas and God</title><content type='html'>Last week Cole and I went with another couple (Pat and Michelle) to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas to celebrate her 40&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday.  It's not the first place I'd pick to go, but it's where she wanted to go and we knew we'd have fun. I was looking forward to the 4 of us spending time together, without kids. I was also looking forward to being a grown up for a while. It was my 3rd time going, and I think it was my favorite. I was not shocked by the city and barely noticed the bad parts. We enjoyed ourselves as friends.  There was something funny that kept happening though. I get a bible verse on my phone every weekday morning and sometimes they are relevant to my day, sometimes not. I know that God is with me all of the time, but sometimes I forget. It's hard to imagine that He is in Vegas/Sin City, but I know He is. This is what He did to keep me laughing and focused on Him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning was our first morning there. Sunday had been very hot and sunny, and I woke up Monday thinking about how we were going to stay in the shade and that we needed to go buy a bunch of water.  This was the verse I got that morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Lord will guide you always, he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land.  Isaiah 58:11 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed and shared it with everyone. I was so tickled that God cared enough to remind me that he was with us, even in hot and sunny Vegas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday morning I woke up not feeling that great. We had stayed out late on Monday and had a couple too many lemon drops. It wasn't terrible, but I could have felt better. I seemed to have lost the verse from that day, but it was something about how He will always be there and care for us, no matter what, and that we were not forsaken.  I was glad to know that He hadn't forgotten about us, despite the fact that we were in what many perceive as a "God forsaken land".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday morning we packed up and headed out. Even though we all had fun, we were happy to be headed home.  As we were sitting in the airport shuttle, pulling away from the curb, this is what came over on my phone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us in to the kingdom of the Son. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Colossians&lt;/span&gt; 1:13&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh the joy of knowing that He was with us the whole time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6140670789606323477?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6140670789606323477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6140670789606323477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6140670789606323477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6140670789606323477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2010/05/vegas-and-god.html' title='Vegas and God'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1792823212728010300</id><published>2010-03-25T23:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T23:24:25.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is your hand in His?</title><content type='html'>I heard an interesting story on the radio tonight while driving home from work. It was about a little boy who wanted to hear a certain preacher preach. The boy was dirty and homeless and the preacher was talking way across town. The boy wanted to see him so bad that he did everything he could to get across town. Finally, after a lot of hard work and tirals, he made it across town to the church that the preacher was at. He ran up the steps only to find a man there, beside a closed door. The man asked the boy what he was doing there. The boy told him that he had come very far and worked very hard to see the preacher preach. The man told him that he was much too dirty and would not be allowed in. The boy walked away and looked around for another way in. The windows were all too high and there weren't any other doors. He went back to the front steps, sat down, and cried. Soon, a big car drove up and out stepped a man with a top hat and large hands. The man asked the boy why he was crying and the boy explained that he had come so far and worked so hard to see the preacher, but was not allowed in-even after trying so hard. The man put his big hand out and said, "Put your hand in mine." The boy did without question, and they walked toward the previously closed door. The door was flung open wide and they were permitted in. They walked all the way to the front where the man with the big hands had the boy sit in the front pew. Then, the man walked to the pulpit and started to preach. He was the preacher the boy was coming to see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a beautiful illustration of Heaven and how to get there. You can't get there by trying hard, or your good works. You can only get there by placing your trust in Jesus. He will walk you in. Is your hand in His???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-1792823212728010300?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1792823212728010300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1792823212728010300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1792823212728010300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1792823212728010300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2010/03/is-your-hand-in-his.html' title='Is your hand in His?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7737455854493166515</id><published>2010-03-01T11:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T11:16:29.800-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Toddler concentration</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR7cdaQbI/AAAAAAAAARg/yG3SHs_Vvec/s1600-h/P1020227.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443745762533589426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR7cdaQbI/AAAAAAAAARg/yG3SHs_Vvec/s320/P1020227.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR66TNcJI/AAAAAAAAARY/RQik4ZAQixI/s1600-h/P1020223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443745753364000914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR66TNcJI/AAAAAAAAARY/RQik4ZAQixI/s320/P1020223.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR6XGOsHI/AAAAAAAAARQ/7AJIb46_rXs/s1600-h/P1020222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443745743914315890" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR6XGOsHI/AAAAAAAAARQ/7AJIb46_rXs/s320/P1020222.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR753RCcI/AAAAAAAAARo/vGG4fIBZ8rM/s1600-h/P1020228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443745770426665410" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR753RCcI/AAAAAAAAARo/vGG4fIBZ8rM/s320/P1020228.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was doing some picking up while Justin and I were home with Gavin at preschool. Justin got the box of games that Gavin and I play from. It has bingo, tick tack toe, dominoes and some others. Gavin and I play with them at the table before Justin gets up from his nap. Anyway, Justin got the box and said, "Play table." He wanted to sit right where Gavin sits and play the games with me. He's 2 and really won't get most of them, but I sat down with him and we decided to play with the dominoes. We made a train and some towers, and had a fun time together. My favorite part was just looking at Justin and watching him think and work. I spent some time thanking God for him and basking in the peace. These pictures don't begin to capture what I saw as I was sitting there, but they are close enough. Little kids concentrating are just so cute! The last one was of him asking me to stop taking pictures.&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/3551585128195721279-7737455854493166515?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7737455854493166515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7737455854493166515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7737455854493166515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7737455854493166515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2010/03/toddler-concentration.html' title='Toddler concentration'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4wR7cdaQbI/AAAAAAAAARg/yG3SHs_Vvec/s72-c/P1020227.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-8352918893933009152</id><published>2010-02-23T12:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T12:26:26.433-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs that he's growing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4Q563UXuPI/AAAAAAAAARI/myaTmW8I9j8/s1600-h/P1020125.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441537933214988530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4Q563UXuPI/AAAAAAAAARI/myaTmW8I9j8/s320/P1020125.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gavin has had a tooth that has been hurting him for a while. I looked at it and touched it and realized that it was loose. I didn't tell him to see if he would figure it out on his own. This was a month or more ago. Since then he has stopped eating bagels, apples and carrots. He doesn't complain or question his tooth. It just is. So yesterday I looked at it again and mentioned that maybe it was getting loose. Gavin's face lit up so bright! He got really excited that the tooth fairy would be coming soon. Since then he will spontaneously break in to a dance and laughing because his tooth is loose. He can't wiggle it with his tongue because, "My tongue is too slimy" but can move it with his fingers. He doesn't like to move it though because it is sore. I remember when I was bummed that he was getting teeth because I loved his toothless baby smile. Now he's loosing those very teeth. I swear that was last week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm so impressed with the person that he's turning in to. Such a wonderful son to have. Recently we tried a new church. I was almost sick with all the butterflies about how the kids were going to do in the nursery. Gavin didn't want to go and Justin had no idea what we were doing. After signing them up and talking to Gavin, we walked him to his area. I mouthed to the workers that they may have to hold him while he cried (he's 5 and that would not be easy), but he walked in to the area on his own. He was not happy about it, but he didn't cry! I was so impressed that I almost lost it and started crying myself. When I handed Justin over he had caught on and was saying, "Mama come too. Mama come too." He cried, but we expected that. Apparently he cried for a bit and was then very cautious. He perked up and was happy after a cookie :-) They both did well and had positive things to say. Gavin didn't want to go back unless he gets to play on the slide the whole time, but too bad buddy, we went again and all went well (with a little crying from Justin). Gavin said that he wants to ride the church bus next week. They have shuttles from remote lots and we'll give them a try. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My boys are so awesome! They are very different and I love it. They have taught me the value of silence and that patience is always the right choice. They are growing so fast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-8352918893933009152?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/8352918893933009152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=8352918893933009152' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8352918893933009152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8352918893933009152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2010/02/signs-that-hes-growing.html' title='Signs that he&apos;s growing'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/S4Q563UXuPI/AAAAAAAAARI/myaTmW8I9j8/s72-c/P1020125.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6718933125025391860</id><published>2010-02-01T12:43:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T13:07:09.160-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I hope he gets it eventually</title><content type='html'>One of the things that my mom used to tell us was that there is no trying.  You either do it or you don't.  It drove me crazy when she told us this.  She would demonstrate by asking us to make a fist.  Either we did or we didn't.  There was no in-between.  I still don't totally believe in that and I think there are circumstances where something is a "try" and not a failure.  I think she would agree, but sometimes you need to be black and white with kids.  Even though I don't totally agree, it causes me to think and I certainly learned from her teachings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been talking with Gavin about how there are times when he chooses how he feels.  Or, actually, he chooses what to do with the feelings he has.  When I ask him to pick up the toys and he misses part of Sesame Street because he was dilly dallying, he says that I made him angry.  Well, he may be angry because of the consequence of his dilly dallying, but in his eyes it's because I asked him to pick up.  In that moment, it's ok to feel the anger, but he can decide how to act.  That just makes him madder.  I have the feeling that this will be one of those things that he remembers as an adult.  Just like I remember the trying thing with my mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My struggle is to model the behavior that I am preaching!  I don't always demonstrate the best choice when it comes to my frustration.  When I let it take over, I do take time to talk to Gavin later about how I could have acted differently and that it's normal to feel the emotion, but we need to continually work to display it in a way that won't hurt others.  I hope that when he looks back and remembers the things that I told him that drove him crazy, he'll also realize that he learned something from them.  He doesn't have to completely agree with what I'm trying to teach, but at least he'll have something to ponder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6718933125025391860?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6718933125025391860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6718933125025391860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6718933125025391860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6718933125025391860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-hope-he-gets-it-eventually.html' title='I hope he gets it eventually'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3985109460393569554</id><published>2009-11-30T10:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T10:44:03.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The first hour I was awake</title><content type='html'>Keep in mind that preschool drop off is between 9 and 9:10, and we generally leave the house at around 8:30 or 8:40 to hit that window...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a fun, but very long weekend over Thanksgiving.  It included 2 work evenings and 2 big dinners with an overnight at my mom's in there too.  We had fun, but were beat.  I worked last night and went to bed at around 11pm.  Cole left this morning at 6.  I had high hopes of getting up then to have a little time before the kids got up at 7, but I quickly fell back to sleep.  That is typical for me and Gavin is usually out of bed between 7 and 7:30 and will wake me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened my eyes to a clock that read 8:29!  Gavin was still sleeping and I couldn't hear much from Justin's room either.  I thought about skipping preschool since it was time to leave and I was still in bed, but I made the decision to see if we could make it.  I put my contacts in and woke up Gavin.  He was not sick (like I thought he might since he slept so long) and he was pretty resistant to getting up and dressed so fast.  I gently told him that if he didn't get dressed right now, we would not make it to school.  I ran in and got dressed myself and he actually finished before me.  We went in to get Justin and while I was dressing him, Gavin got his show and tell item and loaded his backpack.  I put some waffles in the toaster and went outside to put the car seats in the car.  The kids got all buckled in and I still had to wait a minute or so on the waffles!  I smeared a little peanut butter on them and we left for school.  I got up at 8:29 and drove out of the driveway with dressed and eating kids at 8:46!  I couldn't have done it without my amazing Gavin.  I did forget his jacket though, so I hope he does ok when they go outside today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dropped him off and ran to Fred Meyer.  I had remembered my list, but not my coupons.  Oh well.  We picked up a few things and were going to go back home.  Justin had asked for a doughnut, but I forgot about it.  I was putting the last bag in the car when he started to dance in the seat of the car cart, getting all excited about his doughnut.  I felt really bad that I had forgotten it when I heard him start to scream and cry.  I looked over and the cart was rolling backward in to the parking lot.  He was so terrified!  Of course I ran and caught it, but we were both scared for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left Fred Meyer 1 hour after I got out of bed.  What a crazy morning!  Now, I'm enjoying a little coffee and a quick sit down before I pack up an item to ship to an ebay buyer and head back out to pick up Gavin.  I am also taking a moment to thank God for his work in our morning.  The potential was there for several disasters and He took care of us.  He never ceases to amaze me :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-3985109460393569554?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3985109460393569554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3985109460393569554' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3985109460393569554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3985109460393569554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/11/first-hour-i-was-awake.html' title='The first hour I was awake'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-2285423340898989414</id><published>2009-11-09T13:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T13:52:41.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>no NO NOOOOOO!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SviOmxz0GiI/AAAAAAAAARA/AjKiZ2HISR0/s1600-h/P1010522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402224549887744546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SviOmxz0GiI/AAAAAAAAARA/AjKiZ2HISR0/s320/P1010522.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I lost Justin's Fuzzy Blankie! He has 2 blankets. One from Target (that I have a duplicate of) and one from someone at my mom's work. The second one is pretty small and crocheted from this pastel, very fuzzy yarn. When he wants Blankie, he wants both of them. We put the small fuzzy one on his little pillow in bed. We were shopping in Fred Meyer today and he had both of them tucked in next to him in the cart. We got all through the checkstand and out to the car before I realized that Fuzzy Blankie was missing. I remember when he was letting it drop and I gave it back twice. Typically, if he's playing that game, I'll put it in my bag until he's ready to hold it, instead of dropping it. I don't remember seeing Blankie after he dropped it twice. We walked all through the store and weren't able to find it. I left my information with Customer Service and we're hoping that someone turns it in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I put him down for his nap, I found another blanket that was much bigger, but was also fuzzy. He was ok with it, but I know he would prefer his friend back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the drive in to town this morning, I was thinking about Fuzzy Blankie and wondering what would happen if it became unraveled or otherwise broken. I thought that I could probably crochet one for him if that ever happened. I've never thought about it before and it sure is funny that I thought about it just an hour before Blankie went missing. God sure makes me laugh sometimes! Ha ha.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, when Cole gets home, I'm headed back out to buy some yarn and will be digging out my "How to Crochet" book this evening. Not exactly how I planned to spend the evening, but that's ok. Anything for my boys huh? Thank goodness I don't have to work today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After Fred Meyer, we still needed to go to Safeway, but didn't have enough time. My trip this evening will then include Safeway too. I'm actually excited to do a little grocery shopping by myself. :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-2285423340898989414?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/2285423340898989414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=2285423340898989414' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2285423340898989414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2285423340898989414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/11/no-no-noooooo.html' title='no NO NOOOOOO!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SviOmxz0GiI/AAAAAAAAARA/AjKiZ2HISR0/s72-c/P1010522.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-596133786880670302</id><published>2009-11-06T14:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T14:42:43.628-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Justin's check up</title><content type='html'>I know you've all been waiting, so here it is.  A review of our day at Children's yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a couple of ultrasounds at the end of my pregnancy with Justin and they revealed some abnormalities with his kidneys.  By the time he was 2 months old, he had undergone a couple of tests and was diagnosed with Vesicoureteral Reflux.  Yesterday, we went for some check up tests...  &lt;a href="http://kidney.niddk.nih.gov/Kudiseases/pubs/vesicoureteralreflux/"&gt;http://kidney.niddk.nih.gov/Kudiseases/pubs/vesicoureteralreflux/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin and I drove down to Children's and got there an hour before his first appointment.  We got all checked in and hung out in the Radiology waiting room.  He played and I worried.  My only worry for the day (and for the many days leading up to yesterday) was how he was going to respond to one of his exams.  He went for his Ultrasound and did fine.  He wouldn't look at me at first, but after a couple of minutes he was talking about the cartoon that was on the TV.  Then we went for the VCUG.  He had one at 2 months old, but I knew that at that time, he would not be able to associate me with the discomfort of the test.  This time I knew would be different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got in to the x-ray room, I got him naked and put a little hospital gown on him (so cute by the way!).  I sat him on the table and put him on his back.  He was cooperative, but apprehensive.  They moved the x-ray camera to situate it over his abdomen, but it was so big that it pretty much hovered over his neck down to his upper legs.  It came down to about 6-8" above him.  That's what freaked him out.  It was moving on it's own, and coming straight down  n him.  It didn't touch him, but he was shaking with fear :-( I was holding on to his arms (which he never fought-even once) and had my face touching his face the whole time.  I never lifted my head from his.  I talked to him and offered to hold my hand over his eyes.  He was so sweet and really seemed comforted by my very close proximity.  He liked having Blankie over his face too.  They put the catheter in and he didn't seem to really notice.  He flinched, but didn't cry.  Near the end of the test we had to wait for him to urinate (the catheter was out).  I asked him to do it and he was able to go, many times.  His bladder was quite full and I'm sure it was a relief to get that stuff out.  They were doing the continuous x-ray the whole time.  I think that I was hugging his head and almost smothering him for at least 20 min.  My shoulders and back are sore, but it was worth it to be such a support for him.  So, my fear of him associating me with the pain and fear of the test was turned in to gratitude that I could be his strength.  I hope that in his subconscious he sees me as his comfort during a very scary time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the test results, they were neutral to me.  His left kidney was at a grade 3 last time, and now has no signs of reflux!  Reflux is graded 1-5, with 5 being the most severe.  That kidney is growing well and is probably doing most of the work.  The right kidney is at a grade 4-5 and was a 5 last time.  It has barely grown at all and the doctor thinks that it really doesn't do much work at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the past 2 years Justin was supposed to be on daily antibiotics to prevent any urinary tract infections.  He was on them for a while, but I ended up stopping them without talking to the doctor.  I would never advise going against the doctor's instruction, by the way!  When I told him that I had stopped, I was surprised at his response.  He said that there is a "small minority" of doctors that are trying the no antibiotic approach!  That made me feel a little less like a non-compliant parent.  Justin has never had a urinary tract infection or any unexplained fevers and has been completely normal.  He is heading in to a period where he will be potty training soon though.  Typically, when kids potty train, they are at higher risk of infection because they tend to hold their urine too long.  The doctor and I both agreed that starting Justin back on the antibiotics at this time would be a good idea.  So, he's back on them and that's all we need to do for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as Justin doesn't have any problems, we'll go back in a year.  If all is well, he'll probably just get another ultrasound to check on the growth of the kidneys.  The doctor said that he would not need another VCUG unless he was having issues and we were prepared to act on the results.  That means, if he was having UTIs or other issues, he would probably need surgery.  For now, he takes his meds and we live our lives.  Not bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has complained a couple of times about pain when he is peeing, but otherwise Justin has not had any ill effects from yesterday.  When I got home and finally sat down to relax, it hit me how stressed I had actually been.  I was not interested in thinking about anything and barely made it through the evening.  I was in bed by 8:30 or so and really didn't sleep well.  It was just the stress from thinking about my poor baby going through a medical procedure.  The stress of it wore me out!  It's over now though and we can move on to the rest of life's stresses :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for your thoughts and prayers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-596133786880670302?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/596133786880670302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=596133786880670302' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/596133786880670302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/596133786880670302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/11/justins-check-up.html' title='Justin&apos;s check up'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7328191790788087088</id><published>2009-08-24T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T09:14:27.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anatomy lesson from Gavin</title><content type='html'>Gavin just explained to me how potty and poopy come out....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  When you drink something, it floats in your belly and then in your penis for a while, then it "pops" out.  When you eat something, you chew it, it floats in your belly like potty, then it goes to your back and then to your, bottom and comes out.  Then he pondered how funny it would be if your bottom was in the front and your penis in the back.  He said that poopy comes through your back because that's where your bottom is, in the back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-7328191790788087088?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7328191790788087088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7328191790788087088' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7328191790788087088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7328191790788087088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/08/anatomy-lesson-from-gavin.html' title='Anatomy lesson from Gavin'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-2397788818126126836</id><published>2009-06-29T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T21:55:01.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A day at the beach</title><content type='html'>It was about 8:15 this morning and Gavin was eating his waffles, I was getting some coffee ready and Justin was talking in his crib.  It was late for us, but that's fine.  I have a long week of work ahead of me, so I was just planning on going to the store this morning for more coffee (I had just ran out) and that was about it.  My mom called and said that Scott was putting his mom in to a nursing home today.  That's a good thing because she really needs the help so I was happy.  It was going to take a couple of days and that left my mom in Indianola while he was dealing with his mom, and my mom had hoped to come back here today.  I offered to come over and pick her up.  To go there involves about 40 min of driving to get to the ferry, waiting to get on, riding the ferry for 30 min, then another 10-15 min drive to my mom's house in Indianola.  She was really excited and I managed to get us all together and packed for the trip over (including a trip to the beach while we were there) and we were out of the house by 9:15.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After an uneventful drive, and a 30 min wait at the dock for the next ferry, we got on the boat and went upstairs to hang out for the float over the water.  Gavin looked through his binoculars and saw jelly fish, ducks and "pseed boats".  It was fun for all 3 of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we got to my mom's we hung out for a few minutes, and headed up to the Inidanola Store for lunch.  It is the only store in town, and I worked there for 5 1/2 years way back when.  We said "hi" to the owner and enjoyed some yummy sandwiches.  Then back to mom's to get ready for the beach.  We got all ready and drove to a little trail just down the road.  I had forgotten Gavin's sandals so he was going to go bare foot.  Well, as he put it, "It looks like we're in the forest" which we certainly were.  It is a really beautiful trail, but somewhat overgrown (that's an understatement).  He did most of it on foot and was poked by sticks, but did amazingly well.  It was so grown over that I was ducking.  My mom and I were both carrying towels and beach toys, and responsible for a kid a piece.  Finally, near the end (after I helped everyone over a narrow log over some water) we ditched the stuff, each held a kid up over the stickers, and finally made it out to the beach.  I went back for the stuff myself.  It was so hard to navigate the trail that I decided to walk down the beach to the "boat launch" where we'd be able to walk up a driveway to the road and back to the truck that way.  The walk down the beach probably took 30 min, and if you know the beaches around here, the sand was scarce.  It was mostly rocks, but Gavin was amazing.  He kept saying how it was poky, but he kept pressing on.  He could see where we were going and kept saying "we're almost there" to us.  We'd pick our paths carefully through the rocks and sand and eventually we got there.   We put our blanket down and played in the sand for a while.  We tried to go in the water but the tide was too high, and the rocks near the water were all covered in barnacles.  No different that when I grew up, but I was used to it as a kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left them there and walked the 10 min back to the truck to drive it to them and pick them up.  We ended up having a great time, but next time we'll drive to a different part of the beach, and remember the shoes.  I also plan to look at the tide maps and try to hit it at low tide so the boys can play on the sand flats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we were back at the house, the 4 of us sat out on the deck and enjoyed a cinnamon roll and a bunch of water.  I asked Gavin to go get his shoes and socks on in preparations for going home, and the first thing he brought me was my ace wrap (I injured my ankle 1 week ago and the walk on the beach did not aide in the healing).  He is so wonderful and intuitive!  Then he got his shoes and socks on and my mom and I were both doubled over laughing.  He still had his swim shorts and a swim shirt on, then put his brown camo socks on with his "Cars" shoes.  His socks were pulled up as high as they would go and it was hilarious.  Of course he had no idea what we were laughing at, but even now I am laughing about it.  He is so awesome I can barely stand it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Justin also was amazing today.  He had a lot of trouble figuring out how to walk on the beach, but kept trying and eventually could walk almost as fast as normal.  He loved playing in the sand and was not bothered at all by the cold water.  Not much bothers him, except for Gavin trying to take something that Justin is playing with.  He slept for a while in the truck and was as beautiful as ever.  He is so adventuresome and fun to play with.  I love my boys so much that my heart feels like it's going to burst.  What a fun day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(pictures to follow.  I've tried 3 times and the upload isn't working)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-2397788818126126836?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/2397788818126126836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=2397788818126126836' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2397788818126126836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2397788818126126836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/06/day-at-beach.html' title='A day at the beach'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7511888166147098984</id><published>2009-04-03T15:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T15:22:27.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gavin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL340MGII/AAAAAAAAAQ4/RYmn4GaBfE8/s1600-h/P1000632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320593802045167746" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL340MGII/AAAAAAAAAQ4/RYmn4GaBfE8/s320/P1000632.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL3me7j4I/AAAAAAAAAQw/lvr_w-RRQgI/s1600-h/P1000631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320593797124165506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL3me7j4I/AAAAAAAAAQw/lvr_w-RRQgI/s320/P1000631.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL3ZjREvI/AAAAAAAAAQo/Gvf0zJ66TsA/s1600-h/P1000629.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320593793652691698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL3ZjREvI/AAAAAAAAAQo/Gvf0zJ66TsA/s320/P1000629.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL3YbMNaI/AAAAAAAAAQg/R9OafEg29QU/s1600-h/P1000628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320593793350383010" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL3YbMNaI/AAAAAAAAAQg/R9OafEg29QU/s320/P1000628.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL277UsyI/AAAAAAAAAQY/lI584KORqq4/s1600-h/P1000627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320593785700528930" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL277UsyI/AAAAAAAAAQY/lI584KORqq4/s320/P1000627.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gavin came down from his "nap" while I was writing the post below. He mentioned about how there "sure are a lot of pictures of Justin." I explained to him that was because he doesn't let me take pictures of him. He always looks away and runs from the camera. Justin is easier to catch, but not by much. Soooo, just now I asked him if he wanted me to take a couple of pictures and he was excited, but only if I posted them here. It took a few before I could get him to smile, but I posted all of them, just for him...  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S.  After I loaded the pictures I saw that they posted exactly backwards from how I took them, and he is too ansty to let me fix it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-7511888166147098984?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7511888166147098984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7511888166147098984' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7511888166147098984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7511888166147098984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/04/gavin.html' title='Gavin'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaL340MGII/AAAAAAAAAQ4/RYmn4GaBfE8/s72-c/P1000632.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6702967321500707889</id><published>2009-04-03T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T15:13:31.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Mom, It's Sunny Outside!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJ6EWeHYI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/6MdTsIYVpWo/s1600-h/P1000600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591640478227842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJ6EWeHYI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/6MdTsIYVpWo/s320/P1000600.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJ5xnBYRI/AAAAAAAAAQI/hRZA23sQL5Y/s1600-h/P1000618.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591635447374098" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJ5xnBYRI/AAAAAAAAAQI/hRZA23sQL5Y/s320/P1000618.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJXrSAoTI/AAAAAAAAAQA/wby0svEtXZA/s1600-h/P1000625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591049633079602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJXrSAoTI/AAAAAAAAAQA/wby0svEtXZA/s320/P1000625.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJXC6vYVI/AAAAAAAAAP4/E4D_TnAxT4w/s1600-h/P1000608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591038798061906" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJXC6vYVI/AAAAAAAAAP4/E4D_TnAxT4w/s320/P1000608.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJXKtqASI/AAAAAAAAAPw/mdT7GJLes3E/s1600-h/P1000606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591040890667298" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJXKtqASI/AAAAAAAAAPw/mdT7GJLes3E/s320/P1000606.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJWgE6HaI/AAAAAAAAAPo/bDJb9emYlvc/s1600-h/P1000595.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591029445467554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJWgE6HaI/AAAAAAAAAPo/bDJb9emYlvc/s320/P1000595.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJWuja93I/AAAAAAAAAPg/azuNMtqbX5U/s1600-h/P1000589.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320591033331545970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJWuja93I/AAAAAAAAAPg/azuNMtqbX5U/s320/P1000589.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yup, it was sunny today. It was only 45 degrees, but it was still sunny. What a welcome change! We headed out and the boys naturally wanted to play in a puddle in front of the house. I got both of them in their rain boots and let them go. Justin was in the boots for the first time so he took a few minutes to get used to them. They are a size too big, but he did fine (they're a hand-me-down from Gavin). Gavin wanted his pants outside of his boots, so they got pretty wet and muddy. Oh well, they had fun. When we came in Justin was wet all the way to his diaper and he was pretty dern cold. After I cleaned him up, I put some jammies one since he was going to bed soon after. Gavin thought that looked good, so he too put some jammies on. I think he's still wearing them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6702967321500707889?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6702967321500707889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6702967321500707889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6702967321500707889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6702967321500707889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/04/look-mom-its-sunny-outside.html' title='Look Mom, It&apos;s Sunny Outside!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdaJ6EWeHYI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/6MdTsIYVpWo/s72-c/P1000600.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-8396094616183054342</id><published>2009-04-03T10:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T10:13:02.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The men in my life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdZDb6Va4tI/AAAAAAAAAPY/eTvOlEWGTHY/s1600-h/P1000583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320514156579447506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdZDb6Va4tI/AAAAAAAAAPY/eTvOlEWGTHY/s320/P1000583.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last night there were 3 jackets sitting on the couch after an evening out and about. I set them all together. Carhart, Spider Man and a Lego vest...&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/3551585128195721279-8396094616183054342?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/8396094616183054342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=8396094616183054342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8396094616183054342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8396094616183054342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/04/men-in-my-life.html' title='The men in my life'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdZDb6Va4tI/AAAAAAAAAPY/eTvOlEWGTHY/s72-c/P1000583.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3844819687326365954</id><published>2009-04-01T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T15:04:27.964-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPkJLG1V2I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/kSbnB1-i1eg/s1600-h/P1000427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319846431106094946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPkJLG1V2I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/kSbnB1-i1eg/s320/P1000427.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPj_FwLKlI/AAAAAAAAAPI/H0aNKJOVdQ8/s1600-h/P1000436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319846257870187090" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPj_FwLKlI/AAAAAAAAAPI/H0aNKJOVdQ8/s320/P1000436.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPjSPS_puI/AAAAAAAAAPA/dVjh3nOzjBQ/s1600-h/P1000575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319845487338039010" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPjSPS_puI/AAAAAAAAAPA/dVjh3nOzjBQ/s320/P1000575.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, okay, I know. It's been a long time. I figure no one is even reading this because they've given up on me. Anyway, I just had this thought and it made me chuckle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I was up in our room putting some laundry away and thought that I wanted to do some extra picking up. I didn't want to do it just then because Justin was sleeping (right next to our room) and Gavin would be coming out of his room in 20 min. When he comes out, he is loud and excited so if he found me in my room, it would probably wake up Justin. Soooo, I thought to myself, "I'd love to come up here and pick up. Maybe when Cole gets home I'll be able to do it for free."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;For free? That must be my subconscious way of viewing a chore (or anything really) that I can do without the kids around. Funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And since it's been so long, I thought I'd include a couple of pictures. Justin had my rain boots on yesterday and did a great job walking in them. The other 2 are from in the truck while we were waiting for the ferry to go home from visiting my brother.&lt;/span&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/3551585128195721279-3844819687326365954?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3844819687326365954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3844819687326365954' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3844819687326365954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3844819687326365954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/04/funny-thought.html' title='Funny thought'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SdPkJLG1V2I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/kSbnB1-i1eg/s72-c/P1000427.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6483001710405934895</id><published>2009-01-22T21:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T21:55:26.339-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God is in control</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm sitting here watching Grey's Anatomy and a mother is facing letting her child die.  Of course I'm crying because I think of my own precious boys and can't even imagine how it would feel to face their death.  I was quickly reminded that my step-dad had to see his son die very tragically 14 1/2 years ago, and a friend of mine delivered a baby that had already died just a year ago.  There have been so many deaths since then, but those two stood out to me just now.  I am so blessed by my beautiful boys that I am afraid to even think about what could ever happen to them.  I have to continue to enjoy them each day because God has a plan and loves them even more than I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Anyway, I just had to try and express my love for my boys, but that seems impossible.  It is overwhelming how I feel when I think about them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;By the way, my friend who lost her baby last year... I just brought her dinner because she has a very new little boy.  God has a plan.  We don't always understand it or like it, but He is in control.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6483001710405934895?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6483001710405934895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6483001710405934895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6483001710405934895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6483001710405934895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2009/01/god-is-in-control.html' title='God is in control'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3288546844083142908</id><published>2008-12-23T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T21:53:34.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>By Your Side</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/J95rAr0gOFU&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/J95rAr0gOFU&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of my friends from high school posted this video of a song on her facebook page that I currently like. It's called "By Your Side" by Tenth Aveenue North. Whenever I hear the song I stop what I'm doing, close my eyes (no, not when I'm driving), and picture myself with God. In the chorus it says "I'll be by your side... In the dead of night whenever you call". I think of literally the middle of the night when I'm at work and how God is there with me. It also says "Please don't fight these hands that are holding you. My hands are holding you." I picture myself in the embrace of 2 big strong arms struggling against them, and then I surrender to the love and am forever protected. I really enjoy the words of the song and find that it speaks to me, right where I am. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-3288546844083142908?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3288546844083142908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3288546844083142908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3288546844083142908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3288546844083142908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/12/by-our-side.html' title='By Your Side'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-460219184513372850</id><published>2008-12-09T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T22:03:08.221-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9arTy7YBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/v17FQrnesgw/s1600-h/P1050758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278036988396265490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9arTy7YBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/v17FQrnesgw/s320/P1050758.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9arPxwLlI/AAAAAAAAAN0/U5_C15P0Ht0/s1600-h/P1050752.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278036987317595730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9arPxwLlI/AAAAAAAAAN0/U5_C15P0Ht0/s320/P1050752.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9aq9SPDuI/AAAAAAAAANs/L7h9FQWv2yI/s1600-h/P1050749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278036982353563362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9aq9SPDuI/AAAAAAAAANs/L7h9FQWv2yI/s320/P1050749.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9aqmBZwkI/AAAAAAAAANk/nAIaT9J2VKE/s1600-h/P1050746.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278036976108945986" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9aqmBZwkI/AAAAAAAAANk/nAIaT9J2VKE/s320/P1050746.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9aqe1SCqI/AAAAAAAAANc/BG8AmeFHJ1M/s1600-h/P1050745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278036974179060386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9aqe1SCqI/AAAAAAAAANc/BG8AmeFHJ1M/s320/P1050745.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you that read my blog from time to time, you know that I like to give you background info to help round out the story. For those that are new, hang with me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First, a quick rundown of our neighborhood. There are 7 houses, and 6 are occupied. We've become really close as a neighborhood. Part of it is that we have similar professions. I'm a nurse. We have a neighbor who is a police officer with a drug dog, one who is a detective, one who is in immigration, and one who works for the department of corrections. In the 6th house lives a convicted felon/drug dealer. Hmmmm, interesting combo. The drug dealer is named Sean and he doesn't cause too much trouble overall. He knows he is being watched. He doesn't do the dealing himself &lt;em&gt;technically&lt;/em&gt;. The word is that he drives, and his girlfriend does the rest. A minor technicality. Overall, it is his friends and acquaintances that we worry about, not really him. The lady who works for the dept of corrections just happens to work in the same office as Sean's parole officer. Funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I worked last night. I left at 7:30pm as usual and noted that there was a sheriff driving by our road slowly with his spotlight. When I got home this morning at 8am, there was an unmarked police car sitting in the driveway across from our street, like he was clocking people. He was still there when I left to take Gavin to preschool at 9. I waved like any innocent person should :-) He was gone at 12:15 when we got home. I got the kids to bed by 1:15 and headed for a nap myself at 1:45. I had to get up and encourage Gavin to get in to bed so he would fall asleep and I would get more than 2 hours of sleep (I had been up for 30 after all). He is allowed to come out when there is a "3 in the front" on his clock, but I try really hard to get him to sleep on the days following my night shifts. At 2:05 I heard something loud and obnoxious through the window. I realized what it was and tore downstairs to look. Sure enough, it was what looked like the SWAT team at Sean's house. Great. There goes my sleep. They kept calling towards Sean's house to have anyone come out. Everyone did, but they were very cautious still. They apparently didn't believe that the 4 people on their knees with their hands on their heads were the only ones in the house. They headed in to the house with their (huge) rifles drawn and big shield in front of them. Oh geeze, this can't be good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By this time my mom had come over from sleeping in her trailer (she had also worked last night) and Gavin had come downstairs. Before coming downstairs he stopped at the top and said that there were police with guns outside. Nice. He was worried that Sean was hurt. I explained that no one was hurt and that they were there to make sure everyone was safe. Seriously, how do you explain the SWAT team in your neighborhood to your sweet innocent 3 1/2 year old. I am still enforcing with him that police are there to help us, not catch us when we do wrong. Thankfully Gavin really likes our police officer neighbor and his drug dog Hunter. In fact, we routinely watch Hunter when his owner is out of town, so I think Gavin has a good positive exposure to police officers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That reminds me of something. One of the girls who came out of the house was holding a baby. This whole police invasion was very exciting, but there are very sad points too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Overall there was a bunch of hullabaloo and no one was arrested. They did their thing and searched the house top to bottom. They even got a ladder from the top of the police truck to (I'm assuming) search the attic. I wish they had found something to get Sean, but they were looking for his brother and he must have gotten away. It seems that the house was clean, but I'm sure this won't be the last time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We live in a great neighborhood. We are all professionals. We respect others. We take care of our yards. We work hard to provide good lives for the ones we love. We watch out for each other. I guess things can't always be perfect. It is Granite Falls after all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(About the pictures, they are in reverse order and I'm too tired to fix it now.  The one with the black and white police car in it was an officer posted in our neighbor's driveway.  That car was not involved.  It lives there-not at Sean's)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-460219184513372850?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/460219184513372850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=460219184513372850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/460219184513372850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/460219184513372850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/12/madness.html' title='Madness'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/ST9arTy7YBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/v17FQrnesgw/s72-c/P1050758.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3105024935144720565</id><published>2008-12-09T21:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T21:19:43.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sadness</title><content type='html'>Just over a year ago I met my neighbor Cindie.  She is married to the detective and has a 21 year old son.  They are a great family and we love to have them near.  When I first met her, she was holding her "baby" Fancy.  Fancy was a tiny, and I mean really really tiny, dog.  We used to joke about eagles swooping down to have her for a snack.  When our grass needed to be mowed, it was hard to see her hopping around.  When she would walk down the road with Tony and Cindie, sometimes she would be wearing a hunter orange vest for better &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;visibility&lt;/span&gt;.  She didn't really like kids, but she loved to be chased by Gavin in our yard.  The 2 of them had so much fun together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I had just gotten off the phone with Cindie and we were coordinating our neighborhood's weekly trip to Taco Tuesday.  She said she had to let Fancy out to potty, then she'd be over.  She came and knocked on the door and the next thing I knew Cole was going to help find her in the dark (Tony was at a required meeting 2 hours away).  Then Cole called me and said he needed me to call Tony because they had found Fancy on her side in the grass, unresponsive.  Cindie gave her mouth to nose and could not revive her.  Cole called back and asked me to come help since it was just the 2 of them and he was in over his head.   I swooped Justin up and went to comfort Cindie in her grief.  She was understandably distraught.  Thankfully Gavin was with another neighbor's husband, and stayed there while that neighbor's wife came over too.  We sat with Cindie while she held Fancy until her son came home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was terrible.  Cindie has lost someone very special to her and it was very hard to not be able to anything to help, other than just be there.  I was holding my usual distance until later when Gavin was talking about how sorry he was that Fancy died.  He really wanted to go to Cindie and tell her how sorry he was, and that maybe she could get another Fancy.  He was so sweet and got me choked up.  It is so hard to loose a pet, and even harder to try and explain that to your child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is the 3rd completely unexpected death near my life in the last month.  I am so very thankful that none of them were immediately parts of my family, but I am also so sad for the other families.  A few weeks ago I was told that a friend from high school had suddenly lost his life.  Last week one of my co-worker's grand-daughter went to bed acting normal and never woke up (she was 2).  I know that Fancy was "just a dog" but she was loved as a family member in her house. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been having a hard time in the last few days learning to be content with my life and where we are.  I am oh so grateful that we are anywhere at all, and that we have God with us, no matter where we are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-3105024935144720565?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3105024935144720565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3105024935144720565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3105024935144720565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3105024935144720565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/12/sadness.html' title='Sadness'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-627429727956742411</id><published>2008-11-21T09:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T09:24:30.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm like a motorcycle</title><content type='html'>It's a strange title I know, but bear with me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been awake for 26 hours.  As you all know, this is not unusual and happens on a regular basis.  What I am bragging about right now is that I have been home for 1 hour and 10 min and this is what I've done so far:&lt;br /&gt;  Did my nighttime routine with Gavin (since I can't do it on the nights I work, he likes it when I get home)&lt;br /&gt;  Got Justin up and dressed&lt;br /&gt;  Started their eggs and toast&lt;br /&gt;  Got the pot roast in the crock pot (including flouring, browning and prepping the veggies)&lt;br /&gt;  Fed the kids their breakfast and cleaned each one of them up&lt;br /&gt;  Emptied the dishwasher&lt;br /&gt;  Did all of the morning dishes including the pot roast stuff (I even put it all away)&lt;br /&gt;  Put Gavin in Time out once&lt;br /&gt;  Checked my work e-mail and my calendar&lt;br /&gt;  Posted to Facebook and here&lt;br /&gt;  And finally, I'm enjoying my second cup of coffee (standing of course)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooo, to the reason I'm like a motorcycle!  If I keep moving, I'll stay upright.  If I stop, I'll drop like a stone.  As hard as it is, and as crazy as it sounds, right at this very moment, I like my life?  Maybe I'm just delirious.  Well, I'm starting to sway from standing here at the counter, so until next time... Vroom!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-627429727956742411?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/627429727956742411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=627429727956742411' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/627429727956742411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/627429727956742411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/11/im-like-motorcycle.html' title='I&apos;m like a motorcycle'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7523207264765051396</id><published>2008-11-14T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T13:10:50.853-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So smart</title><content type='html'>Well, maybe it's not smarts, but routine.  Just now Sesame street ended and Gavin turned off the TV as usual.  Then Justin dropped what he had been doing and took off for the stairs.  I followed him up and he went straight in to the bathroom.  That's exactly where we always go after Sesame Street to brush Gavin's teeth before his nap.  That was cool :-)  Now they are both in their rooms.  Justin is sleeping and Gavin is playing.  I have 1 hour and 51 min until Gavin sees the 3 in front on his clock (3pm) and comes back out.  :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-7523207264765051396?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7523207264765051396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7523207264765051396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7523207264765051396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7523207264765051396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-smart.html' title='So smart'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5711148682758796824</id><published>2008-11-14T10:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-14T10:17:02.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cleaning?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_-E7OKmI/AAAAAAAAAM8/pjhfWjW-InM/s1600-h/P1050679.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268578212288277090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_-E7OKmI/AAAAAAAAAM8/pjhfWjW-InM/s320/P1050679.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_9nnugKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/aRdHgkX5gdQ/s1600-h/P1050678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268578204421882018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_9nnugKI/AAAAAAAAAM0/aRdHgkX5gdQ/s320/P1050678.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_9QsbVPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/xEOL-a6spik/s1600-h/P1050677.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268578198267581682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_9QsbVPI/AAAAAAAAAMs/xEOL-a6spik/s320/P1050677.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_9CaPUpI/AAAAAAAAAMk/u2PAFz8lgcg/s1600-h/P1050676.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268578194433200786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_9CaPUpI/AAAAAAAAAMk/u2PAFz8lgcg/s320/P1050676.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A couple of days ago Gavin spent 15 minutes cleaning his work bench with baby wipes. He was very thorough and even took parts of it off to get them nice and clean. He was doing this while standing on a layer of toys that had taken over his play room. I asked him if he would continue his efforts and clean the play room and he seemed astounded that I would even ask. Apparently he only cleans on his terms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday when he came out after his "nap" he said that he had a surprise for me. We went upstairs and he showed me how "beautiful" his room looked. He had spent his "naptime" "cleaning" it all up. He had shoved everything against the wall under the window. He has a shelf in the closet for the books and a box for the toys, but apparently they don't work. He had also put his laundry basket on the bed to clear off the floor. At least he can appreciate a clean looking floor space. He's getting a real toy box for Christmas instead of an ugly tote.&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/3551585128195721279-5711148682758796824?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5711148682758796824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5711148682758796824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5711148682758796824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5711148682758796824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/11/cleaning.html' title='Cleaning?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SR2_-E7OKmI/AAAAAAAAAM8/pjhfWjW-InM/s72-c/P1050679.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1706314219301159167</id><published>2008-10-29T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T08:05:37.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So Profound</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I know it's been a while, and I really don't have time right now to share much, but here it goes.  Just now, Gavin shared something that I know we should all remember...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"If you poke your finger in your eye it hurts."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-1706314219301159167?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1706314219301159167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1706314219301159167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1706314219301159167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1706314219301159167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/10/so-profound.html' title='So Profound'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5969990289927477354</id><published>2008-10-01T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T14:38:17.748-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Following Mama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPtPTwGotI/AAAAAAAAAKs/D__Xa7Ijhq0/s1600-h/P1050427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252302437699986130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPtPTwGotI/AAAAAAAAAKs/D__Xa7Ijhq0/s320/P1050427.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPtPr9RjXI/AAAAAAAAAK0/UKDcIf_cs9k/s1600-h/P1050431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252302444197678450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPtPr9RjXI/AAAAAAAAAK0/UKDcIf_cs9k/s320/P1050431.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It looks like Justin wants to sell Tastefully Simple too! ;-)  What you don't see are the several catalogs spread at his feet! I wonder what his favorite product is?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-5969990289927477354?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5969990289927477354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5969990289927477354' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5969990289927477354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5969990289927477354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/10/following-mama.html' title='Following Mama'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPtPTwGotI/AAAAAAAAAKs/D__Xa7Ijhq0/s72-c/P1050427.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1772558917498005700</id><published>2008-10-01T14:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T14:09:23.108-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Discoveries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPm4jJhVqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6nesM9I6vSc/s1600-h/P1050423.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252295449626367650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPm4jJhVqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6nesM9I6vSc/s320/P1050423.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I remember that at some point this morning Gavin got a little milk on his shirt. He decided to use a wipe to wash it off and I am now recalling him saying "I'll just leave it open for a little bit." I didn't worry about it. I forgot about it completely until just a minute ago. I heard some rustling and peeked over the couch to see what Justin was doing. He had found the pack of wipes and was fascinated by each one as he pulled it out. The look on his face was precious, but of course as soon as he saw the camera he stopped pulling. I was laughing and he "showed" me what he had discovered.  At least he wasn't eating them, which is more of what I expected him to do.&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/3551585128195721279-1772558917498005700?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1772558917498005700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1772558917498005700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1772558917498005700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1772558917498005700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/10/discoveries.html' title='Discoveries'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SOPm4jJhVqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/6nesM9I6vSc/s72-c/P1050423.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-4385125004248007780</id><published>2008-09-26T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T19:57:08.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtdPLyFI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/omVW5vCy7TY/s1600-h/gavin+sleeping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250529443386738770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtdPLyFI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/omVW5vCy7TY/s320/gavin+sleeping.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtrZJjUI/AAAAAAAAAKE/uGu_r4qq0hE/s1600-h/video.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250529447186632002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtrZJjUI/AAAAAAAAAKE/uGu_r4qq0hE/s320/video.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtomQ4eI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ZqxLWHR9uLA/s1600-h/lilg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250529446436332002" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtomQ4eI/AAAAAAAAAKM/ZqxLWHR9uLA/s320/lilg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtgrgFII/AAAAAAAAAKU/VNHA_gbNNrs/s1600-h/laundry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250529444310815874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtgrgFII/AAAAAAAAAKU/VNHA_gbNNrs/s320/laundry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtlnX4xI/AAAAAAAAAKc/uGTYuy8Q-y0/s1600-h/reading.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250529445635678994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtlnX4xI/AAAAAAAAAKc/uGTYuy8Q-y0/s320/reading.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom watched the boys last night when Cole and I went out. She mentioned that Gavin asked her to take his camera out of his room. This was the first we had heard of it and were pretty bummed to hear about it. We have always said that if he wanted it out, we'd take it out. We certainly don't need it there and as he gets older, he needs to know that his room is safe and private. He mentioned it to us today and we said sure we'd take it out, but why? He said he was scared of it. Ok, no problem, it's gone. I'm sad though. I have just loved watching him fall to sleep, play in his room, treat his animals with the utmost of care, and just be the sweet innocent baby of mine. Well, I guess he's not a baby anymore. I just deleted the shortcuts to his camera and felt a big let down. I had opened Justin's room eventhough I can't see him in the dark, I can hear him, and my mouse went right to Gavin's room. I wanted to watch him and Cole in there get Gavin all dry and ready for bed, but it's not hooked up. It's just one of many little things that I will have to let go of while my baby grows up.&lt;br /&gt;I know the quality of the pictures isn't great, but I've included a few snapshots from Gavin's camera from the last 3 years (if you can read them, a lot of the dates on the pictures aren't right).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-4385125004248007780?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/4385125004248007780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=4385125004248007780' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4385125004248007780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4385125004248007780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/09/growing-up.html' title='Growing Up'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SN2gtdPLyFI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/omVW5vCy7TY/s72-c/gavin+sleeping.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-4663847820067605977</id><published>2008-09-15T12:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T12:05:25.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So thoughtful (said with a smirk)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SM6x7uxNoGI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/k_2u2g0ODLs/s1600-h/P1050410.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246326255658049634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SM6x7uxNoGI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/k_2u2g0ODLs/s320/P1050410.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;First, a little background info... Justin is still combat crawling everywhere. He eats just about everything that he finds on the floor.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Today at lunch I was doing some dishes and Gavin has to turn around in his chair to see me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sarah, "Gavin, please eat your cookie over your plate."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gavin, "Why Mama?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sarah, "Because, all of the crumbs are falling on the floor."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gavin, "I'm letting them fall so Justin can eat some too."&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/3551585128195721279-4663847820067605977?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/4663847820067605977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=4663847820067605977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4663847820067605977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4663847820067605977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/09/so-thoughtful-said-with-smirk.html' title='So thoughtful (said with a smirk)'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SM6x7uxNoGI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/k_2u2g0ODLs/s72-c/P1050410.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1884232093742937944</id><published>2008-09-03T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T12:37:03.067-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our cool weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMVVTMJI/AAAAAAAAAJE/bKQDk1A2EJc/s1600-h/P1050270.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241881215376765074" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMVVTMJI/AAAAAAAAAJE/bKQDk1A2EJc/s320/P1050270.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMYdnvaI/AAAAAAAAAJM/-G-45Y-Gc5E/s1600-h/P1050271.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241881216216972706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMYdnvaI/AAAAAAAAAJM/-G-45Y-Gc5E/s320/P1050271.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMq_WEpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/pTpOBdxLwt4/s1600-h/P1050289.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241881221190259346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMq_WEpI/AAAAAAAAAJU/pTpOBdxLwt4/s320/P1050289.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMi4xD6I/AAAAAAAAAJc/BUi83-9uRTc/s1600-h/P1050300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241881219015184290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMi4xD6I/AAAAAAAAAJc/BUi83-9uRTc/s320/P1050300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Now that I feel a bit better, here is what I've really wanted to post...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We had a great time at the party this weekend. We had around 30 people here to celebrate my and Pat's birthdays. As we were getting ready, the power went out. Strange. Then I heard a bunch of sirens and concluded that there was an accident that caused the outage. Thankfully the cake was baked, but I sure needed a shower. We are on a well that needs an electric pump to send the water to our house, so we have a generator for when we really need the water. If the power goes out we can't flush the toilet either. The neighbor has city water and he was out of town, but I had his house key, so I filled a pitcher of water there and planned to take a shower if the power didn't come on in time. It was a nice day so we didn't see any reason to haul out the generator unless the power was still out for the party. It came on an hour later and all went well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The next day we had my dad, his wife, my grandpa, my brother and his family over. Including the kids, that was 10 people. We had a lovely time and the chili I made was a huge hit. After everyone went home we enjoyed some down time, then we had a very cool thunder storm. We were able to watch it move in and then enjoyed the rainbows afterwards for quite a long time. The sky was amazing! Then, just before we were getting ready to put Gavin to bed, the power went out again! This time was probably from lightening. We set Gavin up with a battery powered lantern and he went to sleep. Cole and I hung out on the back patio with a fire, and of course the power came on. We shut of the indoor lights and stayed out for another hour or so. It was a nice end to 2 crazy days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The pictures (including the one in the post below this) were taken after the storm had moved through. It was so beautiful, but the pictures barely catch it.&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/3551585128195721279-1884232093742937944?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1884232093742937944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1884232093742937944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1884232093742937944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1884232093742937944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/09/our-cool-weekend.html' title='Our cool weekend'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL7nMVVTMJI/AAAAAAAAAJE/bKQDk1A2EJc/s72-c/P1050270.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3240354560643147639</id><published>2008-09-02T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T16:19:19.072-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This is insane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL3JifE74EI/AAAAAAAAAI8/tLpx75WJuqI/s1600-h/P1050284.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241567135624060994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL3JifE74EI/AAAAAAAAAI8/tLpx75WJuqI/s400/P1050284.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just got up off my knees and I'm hoping for a miracle. I worked last night like normal and had a normal morning after. I got the kids off for their naps and was able to get to bed soon after that. For some reason Gavin was insistent on not sleeping. After an hour he came in and needed to poo, so I had to get up and wipe his bottom. Then Justin woke up and that was the end of any hopes for sleep for me. So, Justin has slept 1.5 hours today, and Gavin is coming out of his room every 5 min. Cole got home and had to immediately ready the yard just in case we get dirt delivered today. I was feeding Justin when Gavin came down again and said "everyone is waking me up." He had been laughing and jumping in his room, so there was no "waking" that could be happening. I was so out of patience that I was almost shaking and almost yelling at him to get back in his room. I was almost swearing and I could feel that I was very close to loosing control. It's amazing what a lack of sleep can do to someone. He went to bed and is now sleeping, but I'm up and have to continue on. I have a couple of other things brewing that are bothering me too that seem so much bigger and more difficult today. I know that they won't seem so bad tomorrow, but I am so tired of this. I set Justin down in his highchair and was walking towards the living room for something when I decided to just drop to my knees right there. I cried out to God to fix this somehow and tried to release it to Him. I think the solution is to not have a job, but that would take a miracle (I do believe in them). I know I'll feel better tomorrow, I'm just grumpy right now. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This blog is usually for sharing fun stuff about us and our lives, but as a journal, you get to read the ugly too. It is a bit therapeutic to share and to know that there are others out there sharing my pain. Thank you for your friendship and prayers.&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/3551585128195721279-3240354560643147639?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3240354560643147639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3240354560643147639' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3240354560643147639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3240354560643147639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-is-insane.html' title='This is insane'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SL3JifE74EI/AAAAAAAAAI8/tLpx75WJuqI/s72-c/P1050284.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-8941234935437050873</id><published>2008-08-29T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T22:01:24.147-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My other  men</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBl56BQI/AAAAAAAAAIc/E4bhRQRSf0I/s1600-h/P1050242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240171290265519362" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBl56BQI/AAAAAAAAAIc/E4bhRQRSf0I/s400/P1050242.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBsnWMuI/AAAAAAAAAIk/_pa0KVihxLg/s1600-h/P1050243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240171292066722530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBsnWMuI/AAAAAAAAAIk/_pa0KVihxLg/s400/P1050243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBxeV4lI/AAAAAAAAAIs/_9ztmgpNO5k/s1600-h/P1050245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240171293371130450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBxeV4lI/AAAAAAAAAIs/_9ztmgpNO5k/s400/P1050245.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUB2tohXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/b6o_GSyKmD4/s1600-h/P1050249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240171294777443698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUB2tohXI/AAAAAAAAAI0/b6o_GSyKmD4/s400/P1050249.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;While I was writing the post below this one Gavin came down and mentioned that I forgot to sing Twinkle Twikle at bedtime. He likes me to sing "Rinse and Shine" and read him a book at bedtime. Then he goes through a couple of phrases he says every time. "Tell me you need water or milk. I be asleep. That's ok." and "I can come out to go potty or poopy." He used to get a little water and milk before bed so I think that's a hold over. He thought that we could talk to him through his monitor so he thought that we could let him know if we needed anything. How cute is that? Anyway, recently he has wanted me to sing "Twinkle Twinkle" and rub his back, just like a little girl's dad in an episode of Sesame Street. How could I resist? I went up there and snapped a couple of pictures before I sang to him. He's wearing his Super Man Jammies tonight. They are a hand me down and have Velcro spots on each shoulder where a cape used to attach, but we didn't get that part. I also walked in to the computer room and visited Cole while he was playing on his computer game. It's nice to sit and think about all of my men!&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/3551585128195721279-8941234935437050873?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/8941234935437050873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=8941234935437050873' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8941234935437050873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8941234935437050873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-other-men.html' title='My other  men'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjUBl56BQI/AAAAAAAAAIc/E4bhRQRSf0I/s72-c/P1050242.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-2023137113102755487</id><published>2008-08-29T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T21:52:46.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjSCaPNk5I/AAAAAAAAAIM/WLzZ_GlADGw/s1600-h/P1050205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240169105290269586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjSCaPNk5I/AAAAAAAAAIM/WLzZ_GlADGw/s400/P1050205.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjSCfstitI/AAAAAAAAAIU/ShbgoHrBm1M/s1600-h/P1050222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240169106756176594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjSCfstitI/AAAAAAAAAIU/ShbgoHrBm1M/s400/P1050222.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, it's been a while! Sorry about that. I have been busy with appointments to get my foot feeling better and things are getting better. I have pain in my heel that has been worse and better for over 10 years, but really bad in the last few months. Anyway, that's one thing I've been working on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week I've been busy thinking about the big party this weekend. My birthday is next week so we always have a party over Labor Day weekend to celebrate and to celebrate our friend Pat's birthday (same as mine). He'll be 40 this year, so his wife is providing most of the food (woo hoo!) but it's at our house. We love to host parties so I'm excited about it. She wanted a Luau theme though, so she bought grass skirts. Yup, we'll see about that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Justin has been growing up fast. Just a couple of weeks ago he learned to get from on his belly to sitting. Even now Gavin still cheers when he does it. He has also learned to push a car along like his big brother. I noticed that Gavin never did that, but he didn't have a big brother to show him how to play with cars. It's so cute because Justin is still doing a combat crawl, so he drags himself with one arm and pushes the car with the other. He's ready to push through his next 2 teeth to make 4 total. I hope these top teeth don't hurt me much ;-) Cole came in from outside the other day and checked the camera and saw that Justin was standing in his crib. Thankfully we had lowered the mattress when he started sitting, so standing was not dangerous, but it sure was exciting. It's so fun to watch him grow and learn. My heart just breaks with love each time I look at either of my boys. What a blessing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would like to stop working night shift, but it's the shift that works for our family--- no day care! I'd love to be a stay at home mom, but we spend too much money. I'm trying to find a way to work from home in the evenings, and still make the money I'm making now. I love selling Tastefully Simple, but I'm not forward enough to get lots of party bookings, so that's more for fun than profit. Oh well, God has a plan, I just wish I knew what it was!!! I am trying to spend more time in the Word and release my stress and worries to Him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmmm, I sure had a lot to ramble about. Thanks for hanging in there with me! I've included some random pictures that are pretty recent (or even from today).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-2023137113102755487?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/2023137113102755487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=2023137113102755487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2023137113102755487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2023137113102755487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/08/busy-life.html' title='Busy life'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SLjSCaPNk5I/AAAAAAAAAIM/WLzZ_GlADGw/s72-c/P1050205.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6996577060533552936</id><published>2008-08-11T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T12:54:59.579-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Read the post below this first...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SKCY9_2jk7I/AAAAAAAAAH8/fN7U3zt85LA/s1600-h/P1050174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233350957884216242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SKCY9_2jk7I/AAAAAAAAAH8/fN7U3zt85LA/s320/P1050174.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SKCY-MLBPHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/_AwnPV0wlfE/s1600-h/P1050175.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233350961191271538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SKCY-MLBPHI/AAAAAAAAAIE/_AwnPV0wlfE/s320/P1050175.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did you read the one below yet? Read that one before this one so that the story flows...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We picked up my mom and were heading out to do a little shopping. She gave Gavin some grapes to much on in the car. It did cross my mind that if we were in a car accident, he could possibly choke but I let it go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was chatting away with my mom and we were just pulling in to the shopping area when I heard something that made me look. I glanced in the mirror and saw Justin throw up all over himself and the car seat. I had a couple of thoughts within a split second in this order. Hmmm, Justin wasn't acting sick at all, maybe he was car sick, and so much for that breakfast I was bragging about! Then I saw it, something green in his hands. I very calmly asked Gavin what was in Justin's hands and he very matter of factly said "A grape mom." This is what my mind said "Oh s**t, what the h**l is a f******g grape doing in his hand?" and of course I was screaming in my head. The nice level headed mom that I am said (very calmly again), "honey, why did you give Justin a grape?" and so the conversation went. I was dealing with the rush of adrenaline after realizing that Justin was choking and I didn't notice, while trying to impart to Gavin why we shouldn't give Justin grapes. I had never told him to ask me before giving Justin food, so Gavin wasn't in trouble. Now he knows though, he must ask before giving Justin ANY food.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, all of that wonderful food and all of those colors that he ate were everywhere. Luckily we were going to Target. It's funny though, as we were leaving the house in the morning I decided not to bring wipes because I figured I might have some in the car. Ha, no wipes! I did have a towel that we used to sop up the mess as well as we could. It was about 10am and over 70 degrees, so I knew that the yumminess would bake while we were in Target. Oh well. I brought Justin in to the store in just a diaper and bought him a cute new outfit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got home I took off the new outfit because it too was nasty from sitting in the mess in the car seat. I took the car seat apart and threw the upholstery in the wash. While I was doing this, Justin was hanging out in the play yard, and taking off his diaper. It just never ends :-) All of this on a day that I have been up for 30 hours too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6996577060533552936?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6996577060533552936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6996577060533552936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6996577060533552936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6996577060533552936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/08/read-post-below-this-first.html' title='Read the post below this first...'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SKCY9_2jk7I/AAAAAAAAAH8/fN7U3zt85LA/s72-c/P1050174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-39412672585997183</id><published>2008-08-11T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T09:11:20.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I should eat so well</title><content type='html'>Justin had a very nutritious breakfast today.  Of course the appetizer consisted of 2 mounds of fleshy goodness full of warm sweet milk.  Then he moved on to inhale 1/2 of a nectarine mixed with a few grapes in the Magic Bullet.  I stirred some rice cereal in to thicken it up a bit.  When we are out of rice cereal, he'll be moving on to barley, Cole's favorite.  After the fruit, he was still asking for more, so I looked back to buzz up more nectarine and Gavin had finished the other half.  Justin then finished off the rest of the peas from last night and I gave him 2 baby mum mums for dessert.  They are basically a repeat of the rice cereal, but he sure loves them.  If we all had so many colors at our meals, we'd be much happier.  He had yellow, purple and green along with some white rice.  Good job buddy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-39412672585997183?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/39412672585997183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=39412672585997183' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/39412672585997183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/39412672585997183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-should-eat-so-well.html' title='I should eat so well'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-8183128560452932191</id><published>2008-07-29T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T15:16:45.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August 2005</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WJwe7K2I/AAAAAAAAAHU/xaLB6mmx_Mw/s1600-h/aug05+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562786778032994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WJwe7K2I/AAAAAAAAAHU/xaLB6mmx_Mw/s320/aug05+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKP0qzlI/AAAAAAAAAHc/aM42FX2tbrc/s1600-h/aug05+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562795190734418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKP0qzlI/AAAAAAAAAHc/aM42FX2tbrc/s320/aug05+018.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKYYeBxI/AAAAAAAAAHk/EbUeQyInP7s/s1600-h/aug05+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562797488375570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKYYeBxI/AAAAAAAAAHk/EbUeQyInP7s/s320/aug05+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKQ5E6jI/AAAAAAAAAHs/BvmHo2BAfho/s1600-h/aug05+068.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562795477658162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKQ5E6jI/AAAAAAAAAHs/BvmHo2BAfho/s320/aug05+068.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKqVPdaI/AAAAAAAAAH0/wLlIGuBOtoU/s1600-h/aug05+057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228562802306676130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WKqVPdaI/AAAAAAAAAH0/wLlIGuBOtoU/s320/aug05+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When I was looking for the picture for the following post, I relived Aug 2005. These are some pictures taken that month. Gavin was about 7 months old.  Hanging with Dad in the hospital.  Naked in the grass (we sure miss lush grass, but Justin would eat it anyway).  Swinging with Dad in the hammock.  Playing on the couch with Ooma and Oompa.  He still loves to play with that hat.  Note Scott's hair, that was before he shaved his head when Cole lost his hair.  Swinging all by himself in the hammock.  It's fun to look at old pictures!&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/3551585128195721279-8183128560452932191?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/8183128560452932191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=8183128560452932191' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8183128560452932191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/8183128560452932191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/august-2005.html' title='August 2005'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-WJwe7K2I/AAAAAAAAAHU/xaLB6mmx_Mw/s72-c/aug05+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-4847118712394313880</id><published>2008-07-29T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T15:07:06.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When we had dogs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-T62GUzoI/AAAAAAAAAHM/AOmD-YuRJ-w/s1600-h/aug05+048.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228560331564174978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-T62GUzoI/AAAAAAAAAHM/AOmD-YuRJ-w/s320/aug05+048.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, the dogs may have eaten the crumbs (see the post below this), but Gavin preferred the scraps of hair anyway (look in his hands). They were Siberian Huskies after all. This picture doesn't show him eating it, but believe me, he did! That was taken in August 2005 when Gavin was about 7 months old. Note the pillow behind him, just in case he fell back. It was hard laminate flooring under that rug, so not a soft fall.&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/3551585128195721279-4847118712394313880?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/4847118712394313880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=4847118712394313880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4847118712394313880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4847118712394313880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-we-had-dogs.html' title='When we had dogs'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-T62GUzoI/AAAAAAAAAHM/AOmD-YuRJ-w/s72-c/aug05+048.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6754802278844987060</id><published>2008-07-29T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T14:46:47.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who needs a dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-Pr7931JI/AAAAAAAAAHE/o2H01G4L6JY/s1600-h/P1050139.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228555677394785426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-Pr7931JI/AAAAAAAAAHE/o2H01G4L6JY/s200/P1050139.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;When we had dogs we enjoyed their unique ability to clean our floors. We have been without them for about 1 1/2 years and miss them terribly, but we have a new alternative, at least for the cleaning benefit. As I've mentioned, Justin doesn't crawl, he drags himself along the floor. He has shirts now that have gone through the laundry but are permanently stained from the dirt he has picked up with his belly. He also likes to get under the kitchen table and pick up the scraps that Gavin has dropped. I just saw him making one scoot, pick up Ritz crumb, another scoot, pick up unknown crumb, another scoot... well, you get it. I know it's gross, but he's learning to eat with his fingers very well, and picking up some immunities at the same time! Right now he's at my feet chewing on one of Gavin's shoes...&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/3551585128195721279-6754802278844987060?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6754802278844987060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6754802278844987060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6754802278844987060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6754802278844987060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/who-needs-dog.html' title='Who needs a dog'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SI-Pr7931JI/AAAAAAAAAHE/o2H01G4L6JY/s72-c/P1050139.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-4305260740060548933</id><published>2008-07-18T09:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T09:37:50.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gavin</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-cc2ccccd3d376eed" 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://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcc2ccccd3d376eed%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330136702%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D38BC5EC1E85594366343411825EE8AA63BA0CB56.F1DE2B0BAEB98E05FE2ED03C7D391367448E422%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcc2ccccd3d376eed%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D5cnF7lKbJpeU2kDixnz7YPjFHgM&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://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dcc2ccccd3d376eed%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330136702%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D38BC5EC1E85594366343411825EE8AA63BA0CB56.F1DE2B0BAEB98E05FE2ED03C7D391367448E422%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dcc2ccccd3d376eed%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D5cnF7lKbJpeU2kDixnz7YPjFHgM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, after doing video of Justin, of course Gavin wanted to be involved too. Note his Superman jammies. We get lots of cool hand me downs from Cole's cousin's boys :-)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-4305260740060548933?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=cc2ccccd3d376eed&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/4305260740060548933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=4305260740060548933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4305260740060548933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4305260740060548933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/well-after-doing-video-of-justin-of.html' title='Gavin'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5043244529056204598</id><published>2008-07-18T09:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T09:38:10.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Justin</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-700b44966cf9976c" 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://v2.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D700b44966cf9976c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330136702%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1C9F4D61075411F2AFEC46FD6BEE6DE86A6010A8.960D96A1FED7C8CED954CAF45235C69B2FA5BC5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D700b44966cf9976c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dk9t3qNezH-UrtJxxU3jzeQ-8NiI&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://v2.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D700b44966cf9976c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330136702%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1C9F4D61075411F2AFEC46FD6BEE6DE86A6010A8.960D96A1FED7C8CED954CAF45235C69B2FA5BC5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D700b44966cf9976c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dk9t3qNezH-UrtJxxU3jzeQ-8NiI&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hey cool, I think I got the video to work. Let me know if it works for you! It's from my phone just now :-) Justin is actually much faster than that when he's on a mission. For the video I had Gavin hold a book in front of him so he would chase it. Justin's shirt is generally pretty dirty by the end of the day since this is how he spends most of his time. He goes everywhere! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-5043244529056204598?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=700b44966cf9976c&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5043244529056204598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5043244529056204598' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5043244529056204598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5043244529056204598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/hey-cool-i-think-i-got-video-to-work.html' title='Justin'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6264332941313413486</id><published>2008-07-17T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T14:38:25.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SH-7uJX0FzI/AAAAAAAAAG0/HAl5J-SbTTQ/s1600-h/P1050131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224100494237243186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SH-7uJX0FzI/AAAAAAAAAG0/HAl5J-SbTTQ/s200/P1050131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SH-7ue2ZhLI/AAAAAAAAAG8/qzWFfJjKVFo/s1600-h/P1050135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224100500002669746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SH-7ue2ZhLI/AAAAAAAAAG8/qzWFfJjKVFo/s200/P1050135.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We just got back from Justin's check up at Children's. His kidneys are growing as they should and the one that had only a minor problem is looking almost normal. The other one seems better than it was, so that's good. He'll continue on his daily dose of antibiotics to prevent any urinary tract infections (which could quickly cause kidney damage) and go back for more tests and follow up in 6-12 months. In the mean time I have little strips to check his urine with if he gets a fever and that's about it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sitting in the various waiting rooms and corridors at Children's certainly helps to bring things in to perspective. We were only in the outpatient/clinic area so we didn't see the real hospital stuff, but it was still a good reminder. Justin is a beautiful, healthy boy and we are so blessed to have him. Every child that we saw was happy through whatever ailed them. They are so resilient and can handle so much more than us wimpy adults, it's just amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I've typed this I've had to rescue Justin from his position under the dining room table where he has gotten stuck. Just like any other normal 9 month old, and that makes me so thankful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6264332941313413486?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6264332941313413486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6264332941313413486' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6264332941313413486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6264332941313413486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/thankful.html' title='Thankful'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SH-7uJX0FzI/AAAAAAAAAG0/HAl5J-SbTTQ/s72-c/P1050131.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5096049459984962926</id><published>2008-07-11T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T15:24:24.134-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mall on My Forehead</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SHfdRdnlhQI/AAAAAAAAAGs/oQN6-gBTyDI/s1600-h/1106071011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221885585037559042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SHfdRdnlhQI/AAAAAAAAAGs/oQN6-gBTyDI/s200/1106071011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Shortly after I got home from work this morning I had Gavin in his chair working on his breakfast and I was sitting on the couch feeding Justin. Gavin asked "Mama, why milk comes out of your boobs?" I started to formulate an answer (this is not a new subject in our house, so I wasn't shocked at all) and he kept on talking. He said something like "Oh, it comes from the mall on your forehead too." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me, "The what?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Him, "The Mall." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me, "Where's the mall?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No Mama. The MALL! The bumpy thing on your forehead!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was almost yelling at this point and frustrated that I didn't understand. I understood his words clearly. He was saying something about a Mall and my forehead. Huh? He mumbled something and stopped his breakfast to come and show me what he was talking about. He was almost to me when the light bulb went on....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;***I have to break here for a little background info. Gavin frequently sees things on my skin and says "is that your nipple Mama?" "No Gavin, that's a mole." Besides, my nipples don't look anything like moles!!! (I know, TMI)***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, back to the story... He was talking about the MOLE on my forehead near my temple. Of course, milk comes out of that too doesn't it? I know that Justin thinks I just ooze the stuff, but I really don't think Gavin has ever seen milk come out of my forehead. Now that would be amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The picture is from my phone and was many months ago. I snapped it to remember what Justin looked like from my personal angle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-5096049459984962926?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5096049459984962926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5096049459984962926' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5096049459984962926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5096049459984962926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/mall-on-my-forehead.html' title='The Mall on My Forehead'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SHfdRdnlhQI/AAAAAAAAAGs/oQN6-gBTyDI/s72-c/1106071011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-289093222517663921</id><published>2008-07-01T09:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T09:25:22.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Real quick</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am just about to go up and get Justin, but I just have to get this down.  Gavin is outside playing in the back yard, bare footed and in his jammies.  The crows are cawing and Gavin is saying "Hi birds.  Nice to meet you.  Thank you birds" and on and on.  It is so cute, it almost made me cry :-)  He can be so sweet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-289093222517663921?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/289093222517663921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=289093222517663921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/289093222517663921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/289093222517663921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/07/real-quick.html' title='Real quick'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-524847202343733757</id><published>2008-06-28T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T10:53:43.118-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ6HafjOuI/AAAAAAAAAGc/ohMa0M1suJY/s1600-h/0627081002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216991486144625378" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ6HafjOuI/AAAAAAAAAGc/ohMa0M1suJY/s200/0627081002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Looking for something, and yum, little rocks taste good!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ6HaJGFaI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Seo9qEx_2gc/s1600-h/0627081003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216991486050440610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ6HaJGFaI/AAAAAAAAAGk/Seo9qEx_2gc/s200/0627081003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-524847202343733757?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/524847202343733757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=524847202343733757' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/524847202343733757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/524847202343733757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/yum.html' title='Yum'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ6HafjOuI/AAAAAAAAAGc/ohMa0M1suJY/s72-c/0627081002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7852976919596584602</id><published>2008-06-28T10:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-28T10:50:33.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I live</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51ntJTzI/AAAAAAAAAF8/5kyxaCueb6k/s1600-h/0627080954a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216991180453662514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51ntJTzI/AAAAAAAAAF8/5kyxaCueb6k/s200/0627080954a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51rSE1iI/AAAAAAAAAGE/fuvbkx2qHcs/s1600-h/0627080955.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216991181413864994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51rSE1iI/AAAAAAAAAGE/fuvbkx2qHcs/s200/0627080955.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51wdrk3I/AAAAAAAAAGM/ewyUjtUUAhk/s1600-h/0627080958.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216991182804718450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51wdrk3I/AAAAAAAAAGM/ewyUjtUUAhk/s200/0627080958.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ512ujkVI/AAAAAAAAAGU/bnUiWxZ3hRo/s1600-h/0627080957a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216991184486109522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ512ujkVI/AAAAAAAAAGU/bnUiWxZ3hRo/s200/0627080957a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I recently read a post that Christie wrote about how not so wonderful it is to live up in Alaska. I also took her advice and read one from Emily (through Christie's blog) on the same thing. I truly feel for you girls! We have a lot of rain and gray days here, but at least we have things to do. We've had the coldest spring I can remember and it's just now getting nice out. I don't really like hot weather, but it was even too cold for me. We spent a lot of time at Target or places like that. Even if it wasn't raining, we still couldn't play outside much because we didn't have any grass. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This post is about what a beautiful place we live in. We bought this house knowing it was far out compared to what we are used to, and knowing that no friends would want to visit because it takes so long, but we really love it otherwise. I worked Thursday night, just like every Thursday. We had a very busy week and were gone most mornings before nap time. Usually on the mornings after I work we leave the house so I can keep Justin up. That way he will nap at the same time as Gavin so I can nap too. We had just been so busy though that I decided to stay home yesterday and hope for the best. We did leave to go drop off a catalog to someone here in town and stopped by the river on the way home. We had never stopped there, so I thought it would be a nice thing to do for a little bit. It was beautiful! There are no tables or play equipment, just the river and it's beauty. The road is close by so Gavin could remark on the trucks that went over the bridge, but I sure loved the water. Gavin had a great time throwing rocks in and Justin had a good time sitting on a rock and finding things to put in his mouth. The temperature was perfect, and then we headed home to catch all of our naps. Justin took 2 naps and I was able to sleep during one of them. It was a good day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In the evening we hung out in the front yard and touched base with the neighbors. Today it's supposed to be almost 90! Our house is very cold, so it's nice in the summer. We recently had a heat pump installed so we even have air conditioning if we want it. Such luxury :-) Cole's sister has coordinated with all of us to have lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, so that will help during the heat of the day. Another good day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm sorry to rub it in girls, but this is really the best place to live! Right now I'm sitting on our front porch and listening to the birds tweet. Well, I can hear them when Gavin isn't demanding something and Cole isn't sneezing his head off from his allergies. Right at the moment, all is right.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ha, just after I wrote that I had to make a snack for Gavin, then shortly after that I had to put him in time out. I guess it can't be perfect all of the time...&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/3551585128195721279-7852976919596584602?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7852976919596584602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7852976919596584602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7852976919596584602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7852976919596584602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/where-i-live.html' title='Where I live'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SGZ51ntJTzI/AAAAAAAAAF8/5kyxaCueb6k/s72-c/0627080954a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1227697148597406968</id><published>2008-06-15T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T21:02:41.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Safety</title><content type='html'>A friend of mine has a very honest and frequently refreshing blog (look to the left and it's "Erica").  It is good to read with an open mind and remember that we all have opinions and the beauty of this world is that we can all express them freely.  Even if I don't always completely agree, I sure love to read what she has to say.  I like to spend time with her more, but reading her blog is next best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is having a giveaway of some helpful summer items and if you go to the blog entry and leave a comment, you can be entered too!  The deadline is June 19th, so hurry up!  If you miss it, it's still worth a read...  &lt;a href="http://www.momsjournal.org/20080612/summer-saftey-swimmers-giveaway/"&gt;http://www.momsjournal.org/20080612/summer-saftey-swimmers-giveaway/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-1227697148597406968?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1227697148597406968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1227697148597406968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1227697148597406968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1227697148597406968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/summer-safety.html' title='Summer Safety'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5850022458691858140</id><published>2008-06-11T16:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T16:03:23.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SFBZrsGMi3I/AAAAAAAAAF0/NXWYvwMV4co/s1600-h/laundry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210763375974058866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SFBZrsGMi3I/AAAAAAAAAF0/NXWYvwMV4co/s200/laundry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Hmmm, that's Gavin trying to sleep in his laundry basket. He is awake and sucking his thumb with Blankie up to his nose. I can see that he has his white pillow in there too. Thank goodness the basket is mesh!&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/3551585128195721279-5850022458691858140?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5850022458691858140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5850022458691858140' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5850022458691858140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5850022458691858140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/comfy.html' title='Comfy?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SFBZrsGMi3I/AAAAAAAAAF0/NXWYvwMV4co/s72-c/laundry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3506933487375987493</id><published>2008-06-02T14:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T14:24:45.310-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More camping pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBMp253I/AAAAAAAAAFM/WcqtrYua_yc/s1600-h/P1040804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207398140398200690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBMp253I/AAAAAAAAAFM/WcqtrYua_yc/s200/P1040804.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBYEiK0I/AAAAAAAAAFU/D8RFftGefPs/s1600-h/P1040805.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207398143462878018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBYEiK0I/AAAAAAAAAFU/D8RFftGefPs/s200/P1040805.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBqC6Z1I/AAAAAAAAAFc/D6hhm9Jsweg/s1600-h/P1040813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207398148287915858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBqC6Z1I/AAAAAAAAAFc/D6hhm9Jsweg/s200/P1040813.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlByr_rHI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cugbDvM4Opw/s1600-h/P1040817.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207398150607711346" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlByr_rHI/AAAAAAAAAFk/cugbDvM4Opw/s200/P1040817.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlCbqBMoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/qq1cLHEImB0/s1600-h/P1040733.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207398161605276290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlCbqBMoI/AAAAAAAAAFs/qq1cLHEImB0/s200/P1040733.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took a lot of pictures!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-3506933487375987493?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3506933487375987493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3506933487375987493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3506933487375987493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3506933487375987493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-camping-pictures.html' title='More camping pictures'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERlBMp253I/AAAAAAAAAFM/WcqtrYua_yc/s72-c/P1040804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1233615644795059881</id><published>2008-06-02T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T14:21:05.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERj_3BgtdI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-dA1Jo3VEDU/s1600-h/P1040727.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207397017900332498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERj_3BgtdI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-dA1Jo3VEDU/s200/P1040727.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkAGO7_tI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DrRp2jPGnDs/s1600-h/P1040759.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207397021983178450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkAGO7_tI/AAAAAAAAAEs/DrRp2jPGnDs/s200/P1040759.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkAe2ze8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/Sx1AExxbswQ/s1600-h/P1040766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207397028592843714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkAe2ze8I/AAAAAAAAAE0/Sx1AExxbswQ/s200/P1040766.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkAjix0vI/AAAAAAAAAE8/MzBW-GiRi3Q/s1600-h/P1040775.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207397029851026162" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkAjix0vI/AAAAAAAAAE8/MzBW-GiRi3Q/s200/P1040775.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkBT0PEuI/AAAAAAAAAFE/ScnrYAO8j6E/s1600-h/P1040783.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207397042809148130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERkBT0PEuI/AAAAAAAAAFE/ScnrYAO8j6E/s200/P1040783.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We usually boycott any travel on holiday weekends, but my mom bought a piece of property in Ocean Shores and wanted to have a campout on Memorial Day weekend. We headed down there and really had a great time. Overall the boys did great. The 4 of us slept in a tent and I think we were all warm enough. Justin had some protesting to do initially, but he quickly adapted to his new surroundings. Gavin had a great time hanging around with Oompa and Ooma. We went to town and he wanted to ride on the Ferris Wheel. That is very unusual for him and I was thrilled. He also had a great time on the bumper boats with Oompa. We had a blast and I hope we get to go again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll post many more pictures on Myspace, for those of you that look there too...&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/3551585128195721279-1233615644795059881?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1233615644795059881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1233615644795059881' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1233615644795059881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1233615644795059881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/camping.html' title='Camping'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERj_3BgtdI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-dA1Jo3VEDU/s72-c/P1040727.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-140776202879330879</id><published>2008-06-02T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T14:10:11.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hee, hee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERhbPT63kI/AAAAAAAAAEU/NUl4rvrHgIQ/s1600-h/P1040834.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207394189741579842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERhbPT63kI/AAAAAAAAAEU/NUl4rvrHgIQ/s200/P1040834.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERhdBemzhI/AAAAAAAAAEc/VcmjSP-GNtw/s1600-h/P1040838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207394220388044306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERhdBemzhI/AAAAAAAAAEc/VcmjSP-GNtw/s200/P1040838.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gavin is pretty much potty trained now (except for sleeping). When you see that he has to go and ask him if he needs to, he will always say "No." One day we told him that he either had to go inside and "try" or go outside. He hadn't gone standing up yet, but thought that going outside was a cool idea. Now he has a spot in the yard that is OK for him to use. We have had to explain that it's not OK to go in the middle of the front yard, but he can go in his special spot. Cole saw him and happened to have the camera handy...&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/3551585128195721279-140776202879330879?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/140776202879330879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=140776202879330879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/140776202879330879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/140776202879330879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/06/hee-hee.html' title='Hee, hee'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SERhbPT63kI/AAAAAAAAAEU/NUl4rvrHgIQ/s72-c/P1040834.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5569235160708968485</id><published>2008-05-27T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T15:41:02.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Old picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDyN9K71f7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/1hAW_SC_QRs/s1600-h/0406071617.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDyN9K71f7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/1hAW_SC_QRs/s320/0406071617.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I just remembered that we have "Picasa"installed on this computer and was looking at it.  I saw that it has a button to "blog this" when you have a picture selected.  Here I am, trying it out.  This picture was from the album "from my phone" and was taken before I got pregnant with Justin.  Gavin looks so incredibly young and my face is thin!  Well, we all change :-)&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/3551585128195721279-5569235160708968485?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5569235160708968485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5569235160708968485' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5569235160708968485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5569235160708968485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/old-picture.html' title='Old picture'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDyN9K71f7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/1hAW_SC_QRs/s72-c/0406071617.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7903985575305956258</id><published>2008-05-22T14:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T14:32:58.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDXmRK71f6I/AAAAAAAAAEE/CkgWisLyi8w/s1600-h/P1040719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203318127163965346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDXmRK71f6I/AAAAAAAAAEE/CkgWisLyi8w/s200/P1040719.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We have been to Ace and the gorcery store. Gavin watched Seasame Street while I put the gorceries away and fed Justin. Both of them are in bed (Gavin is playing, but at least he's in his room). I put Gavin in his room about 1 hour ago. In that time I have folded 2 loads of laundry and put them on my bed. Put another one in the wash. Put Justin down for a nap. Wiped Gavin's rear after he used the toilet. I just put the last cookie sheet in the oven of a double batch of Oatmeal Scotchies. The dishwasher just finished. I am going to empty it, fill it and run it again. I am starting to pack the food for camping. I also have to pack my lunch for work tonight (yup, got to do that too). I need to pack Gavin's snack for preschool tomorrow morning so that when I get home from work at 8 I can feed Justin, and we can take off again. After preschool we are headed to Ocean Shores for a camping trip. It will be the first time Justin has slept in a tent. Hmmm, fun. Anyway, I am a bit rushed right now because I know I have to leave for work as soon as Justin goes down for the night. I won't be getting any kind of nap, so hopefully I can sleep in the truck a little tomorrow on the drive there. That reminds me, I have to print off directions...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am trying to keep up on my water intake. I am a bit scatter brained and looked around the kitchen for my water. I didn't see it, so I filled another one. After gulping some down, I set it down. Hmmm, there's the other water, right in front of me. That is seriously where I set the second one.  I didn't move it just to take the picture.  I realized that maybe I should sit for a spell, so here I am :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Ok, back to it!&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/3551585128195721279-7903985575305956258?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7903985575305956258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7903985575305956258' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7903985575305956258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7903985575305956258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/busy-day.html' title='Busy day'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDXmRK71f6I/AAAAAAAAAEE/CkgWisLyi8w/s72-c/P1040719.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-1037937339444118643</id><published>2008-05-20T13:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T14:00:01.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm gonna miss this</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDM7wH87VcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/H2aIhRYynEQ/s1600-h/P1040708.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202567692497409474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDM7wH87VcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/H2aIhRYynEQ/s200/P1040708.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just slow danced to "You're Gunna Miss This" by Trace Atkins in the living room with Justin. He sure loved it and rewarded me with the best smiles! I had a hard time singing along because I was crying. Not only was I enjoying the moment, but I was remembering back when I used to do the same thing with Gavin. I know everyone says it, but time goes so fast. Just take a minute to look around and find the joy wherever you are in your life because before you know it, you will have moved on in one way or another. (the picture may be blurry, but it represents his wonderful smile really well)&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/3551585128195721279-1037937339444118643?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/1037937339444118643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=1037937339444118643' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1037937339444118643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/1037937339444118643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-gonna-miss-this.html' title='I&apos;m gonna miss this'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SDM7wH87VcI/AAAAAAAAAD8/H2aIhRYynEQ/s72-c/P1040708.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-6718945913037977767</id><published>2008-05-14T13:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T13:45:13.803-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It sounded like a good idea...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday I needed something to do to stay awake, so the boys and I headed to Fred Meyer.  Gavin went potty at the gas station, and again when we got to Fred Meyer.  That was awesome!  Then, he saw the play area and wanted to go in.  If you know Gavin, you know that is a big step for him. He is very shy and introverted so to be left alone in a strange place is not his first choice.  I explained that if he stayed there, I would be in the store and pick him up when I was done shopping.  He was still game, so I happily left him there.  Justin and I had a nice time wandering around the store.  When we were done I started towards the check out.  On my way there I heard my name on the overhead speaker.  I figured Gavin was tired of being there, or had to go potty.  The nice lady told me that he had had an accident.  Oh well, things happen.  She wasn't worried about it.  Gavin was walking bow legged because his pants were all wet, but I was happy I was done so we would just check out and leave.  Right then her manager walked up and the playland lady asked her what she needed to do to clean up the spot on the floor.  They had to shut down playland until the carpet was "professionally" cleaned.  I sure hope that is refering to the store cleaners and not some outside service.  Anyway, I was mortified that we had caused all of the other parents to have to pick up their kids early.  I put Gavin in the body of the cart so no one would see his obvious wet pants and know we were the ones.  I made sure not to let on to him that I was embarrased though because that's not fair to him.  Accidents happen, but to shut the whole place down?  Couldn't they have fenced off the offencive area or something?  Besides, since he was sitting in the cart, his pee got in it anyway (you really never know what's on those carts!)  Overall it was funny, but still kind of sad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-6718945913037977767?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/6718945913037977767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=6718945913037977767' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6718945913037977767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/6718945913037977767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/it-sounded-like-good-idea.html' title='It sounded like a good idea...'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-3429507837397177943</id><published>2008-05-06T09:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T09:57:03.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Small shower, Big step</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCCNvsQHcmI/AAAAAAAAAD0/5GlzuonW-iw/s1600-h/P1040640.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197309820457677410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCCNvsQHcmI/AAAAAAAAAD0/5GlzuonW-iw/s200/P1040640.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We tried to take Gavin in the shower with us when he was a baby, but it was a big pain and he hated it. Neither of us made it a regular thing to get him used to it, so now he just refuses. We just gave up and realized that someday he will eventually take a shower. He loves his baths, so that's good enough. Recently Cole found a cute shower head that attaches to the big one, has a hose and suction cups down low for kids. The water flow is greatly reduced so it's not so hard and loud. We thought Gavin would never go for it, but he loves it. He is really bummed if we only give him a bath and he doesn't get to take a shower. He has still been pretty resistant to the big shower though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This morning he decided that he wanted to take a shower with me. I was sure he would back out at the last minute, but when I said I was going to take a shower, he started stripping. I turned on the water and he was a little hesitant, but got in with me. It is a tiny shower so we were pretty cramped, but he did well. He didn't like too much spray on his face, be we worked with it. He started cracking up and I asked why. He said "The water is coming off your boob" and kept laughing. I know, TMI, but it was funny :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I am so proud of my baby! He's awesome and growing up so fast. I have the feeling that if he wants to continue showering with me, we will move to his bathroom where there is a tub and more room. That way we can use his shampoo instead of my expensive stuff ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The picture is of him waiting for his clothes. He was a little cold, but very cooperative.&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/3551585128195721279-3429507837397177943?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/3429507837397177943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=3429507837397177943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3429507837397177943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/3429507837397177943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/small-shower-big-step.html' title='Small shower, Big step'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCCNvsQHcmI/AAAAAAAAAD0/5GlzuonW-iw/s72-c/P1040640.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7401597997047084592</id><published>2008-05-06T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T08:12:28.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I love you"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1KcQHcjI/AAAAAAAAADc/KO23gNTni-Y/s1600-h/P1040633.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197282792228483634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1KcQHcjI/AAAAAAAAADc/KO23gNTni-Y/s200/P1040633.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1KsQHckI/AAAAAAAAADk/MSQR4mtPm5U/s1600-h/P1040637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197282796523450946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1KsQHckI/AAAAAAAAADk/MSQR4mtPm5U/s200/P1040637.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1K8QHclI/AAAAAAAAADs/dbfN6WHISKE/s1600-h/P1040639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197282800818418258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1K8QHclI/AAAAAAAAADs/dbfN6WHISKE/s200/P1040639.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just love it when Gavin says "I love you!" We are not always allowed to say it back. Sometimes if I say "I love you too" he'll say "No you don't." Ok, fine, I guess I don't. He sure tells us a lot how much he loves us. I'd like to think that it's because he is just copying what we have been doing for the last 3 years. Anyway, he seems to love lots of other things too... He regularly tells Sweatshirt Bear how much he loves him. That's good. As we were walking out the door from preschool on Friday, he said to the teacher, "Bye. I love you!" She was very touched and said it back. She has told me how Gavin reminds her of her youngest when he was little, so occasionally I can see her get a little choked up when she looks at him. I hope he didn't make her cry!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Just a few minutes ago I pointed out that there were slugs on the sliding glass door. Gavin had a good time tapping the door and wondering why they were moving so slow. I took a couple of pictures for you to enjoy, but can you guess where this is going? Gavin asked where the slugs were going and I said they were going home. He said to them, "Bye slugs. I love you. I'll miss you!" Nice.&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/3551585128195721279-7401597997047084592?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7401597997047084592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7401597997047084592' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7401597997047084592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7401597997047084592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-love-you.html' title='&quot;I love you&quot;'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SCB1KcQHcjI/AAAAAAAAADc/KO23gNTni-Y/s72-c/P1040633.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5410130024642889221</id><published>2008-05-01T16:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T12:51:38.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's May Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQlMQHceI/AAAAAAAAAC0/UkhxgPBtBIU/s1600-h/P1040620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195553719999492578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQlMQHceI/AAAAAAAAAC0/UkhxgPBtBIU/s200/P1040620.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQlcQHcfI/AAAAAAAAAC8/v3f2TK2vwm0/s1600-h/P1040621.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195553724294459890" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQlcQHcfI/AAAAAAAAAC8/v3f2TK2vwm0/s200/P1040621.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQl8QHcgI/AAAAAAAAADE/KMRpPDlIY6o/s1600-h/P1040624.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195553732884394498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQl8QHcgI/AAAAAAAAADE/KMRpPDlIY6o/s200/P1040624.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQl8QHchI/AAAAAAAAADM/mfHTBKoPm50/s1600-h/P1040627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195553732884394514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQl8QHchI/AAAAAAAAADM/mfHTBKoPm50/s200/P1040627.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQmMQHciI/AAAAAAAAADU/rQMSxFekRJs/s1600-h/P1040623.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195553737179361826" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQmMQHciI/AAAAAAAAADU/rQMSxFekRJs/s200/P1040623.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;From my Grandma&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday my mom reminded me of something my Grandma likes to recite on May 1st. Grandma learned this from her mom. It's so funny to hear Grandma recite it :-)&lt;br /&gt;"Horray Horray it's the First of May!&lt;br /&gt;Outdoor screwing starts today!"&lt;br /&gt;Just picture your grandma saying that ;-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Addendum, added May 2nd:  Ok, so I heard on the radio that it is supposed to be the 8th of May, but the thought is still the same ;-)&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/3551585128195721279-5410130024642889221?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5410130024642889221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5410130024642889221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5410130024642889221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5410130024642889221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-may-day.html' title='It&apos;s May Day!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SBpQlMQHceI/AAAAAAAAAC0/UkhxgPBtBIU/s72-c/P1040620.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7820635131141651505</id><published>2008-04-17T13:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T09:00:48.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Sweet Sweet Boy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SAoXIk04YAI/AAAAAAAAACs/xI4-TFn7SoQ/s1600-h/P1040566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190986956589785090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SAoXIk04YAI/AAAAAAAAACs/xI4-TFn7SoQ/s320/P1040566.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Gavin has not taken a nap for several days now. We send him to his room for a couple of hours, and he spends the time playing but we're ok with that. As long as he stays in there (except to use the bathroom) then it's just time away from the business of life. We all get a little time alone to keep us sane. Gavin is much easier to handle if he has napped, but oh well, he's getting older and will eventually give them up altogether. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;As we were driving home from Brittney's house today, we were talking about what we were going to do when we got there, and it included going down for a nap. All of a sudden, he had this burst of what sounded like a combination of deep sadness and fear all at once. He cried out "If I close my eyes, I can't see Sweatshirt Bear!" and instantly had huge tears flowing. I almost started to cry too. Sweatshirt Bear has been his beast friend for over a year now and they take very good care of each other. I tried a few different approaches including talking about how if he holds on to him in a big hug while he's sleeping, he will still know he's there. He can "see" him with his hands. Maybe he can even see him in his dreams. When it was time to go to bed, he was still crying on and off about it, so I just let him know that all he has to do is stay in his room. If he wants to play like normal, that's fine. As I'm writing this, he seems to be trying to go to sleep. He's laying in his "nest" (an area in his closet that he decided to sleep in lately) and working hard at sleeping. He has been rubbing his eyes all day, so hopefully sleep will eventually win out.&lt;br /&gt;What a sweet boy to be so concerned that he won't be able to see his friend. As frustrating as he is at this age, he sure lights up my day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Obviously by my posts, I am most at peace when my babies are sleeping! I love them so much for sure, but I need as many breaks as I can get, and nap time is my best bet. On that note, both are in bed, and I am hungry. I took the picture last night because the "nest" makes me laugh. Sweatshirt Bear is facing away from us with the red sweatshirt on (that's how Gavin came up with his name). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, there's a problem uploading the picture, so I'll try again later...&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/3551585128195721279-7820635131141651505?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7820635131141651505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7820635131141651505' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7820635131141651505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7820635131141651505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/04/my-sweet-sweet-boy.html' title='My Sweet Sweet Boy'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/SAoXIk04YAI/AAAAAAAAACs/xI4-TFn7SoQ/s72-c/P1040566.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-254585053913037537</id><published>2008-04-10T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T15:58:17.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woo Hoo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_6bTcx5FJI/AAAAAAAAACk/h-qGDqKY4xo/s1600-h/onhisback.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187754579222664338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_6bTcx5FJI/AAAAAAAAACk/h-qGDqKY4xo/s320/onhisback.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; my eyes, but Justin finally flipped from his tummy back to his back. He has been sleeping on his tummy for a couple of weeks now and waking up really mad because he's stuck. I saw him sound asleep on his belly a few minutes ago, and now he's awake and on his back. He's not laying there screaming, he's just looking around. I love it! I'm so thankful for the web cam too, otherwise I would never get to see this stuff.&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/3551585128195721279-254585053913037537?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/254585053913037537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=254585053913037537' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/254585053913037537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/254585053913037537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/04/woo-hoo.html' title='Woo Hoo!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_6bTcx5FJI/AAAAAAAAACk/h-qGDqKY4xo/s72-c/onhisback.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-5034894344077602669</id><published>2008-04-09T20:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T20:43:08.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A heart high</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9Mx5FGI/AAAAAAAAACM/P7YL5VhzmLA/s1600-h/P1040556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187456229319447650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9Mx5FGI/AAAAAAAAACM/P7YL5VhzmLA/s320/P1040556.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9Mx5FHI/AAAAAAAAACU/gVK8Lzz6szo/s1600-h/P1040557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187456229319447666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9Mx5FHI/AAAAAAAAACU/gVK8Lzz6szo/s320/P1040557.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9cx5FII/AAAAAAAAACc/X3dm_ntA__s/s1600-h/P1040558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187456233614414978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9cx5FII/AAAAAAAAACc/X3dm_ntA__s/s320/P1040558.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Justin doesn't fall asleep on my shoulder much anymore when I put him to bed. It used to be that he would fall asleep while he was nursing and rest on my shoulder for a couple of minutes before I laid him down. Lately he has been awake, but it has still been a very special time between us. We are both quiet and we spend a couple of minutes smiling and just looking at each other when he's done eating. For some reason, tonight he fell asleep like he used to. He kept his eyes closed when I switched him to the other side and was completely passed out when he finally finished. He even came off the boob without me even having to break the suction with my finger. I put him on my shoulder and just felt his body relax against mine. I listened to his little sleep noises and smiled when he would occasionally make the suction motions with his mouth. It was so blissful, I had a really hard time putting him down. He's growing up so fast I know that the days of him sleeping in my arms regularly are quickly coming to an end.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I just about floated down the stairs and when I got to the living room, I saw another lovely sight. Gavin was sleeping on Cole's lap. I can honestly say that has only happened 2 or 3 times in the last year. I took a couple of pictures and tried to get him up. If I hadn't had to struggle with Sweatshirt Bear and Blankie, I'm not sure Gavin would have woken up when I picked him up. He was so out of it that he barely opened his eyes, and seemed to fall back to sleep in my arms. I took him up and did his normal bedtime routine. He was so relaxed and wonderful, I just couldn't believe it. He was so crazy heavy, but I didn't care. My "little" boy was in my arms asleep. So rare and so wonderful. A heart high for sure.&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/3551585128195721279-5034894344077602669?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/5034894344077602669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=5034894344077602669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5034894344077602669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/5034894344077602669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/04/heart-high.html' title='A heart high'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_2L9Mx5FGI/AAAAAAAAACM/P7YL5VhzmLA/s72-c/P1040556.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-2238757943195561305</id><published>2008-04-08T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T07:53:50.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The value of alone time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_uGkmtUG4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/EF_ivedvT8M/s1600-h/P1040540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186887359271279490" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_uGkmtUG4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/EF_ivedvT8M/s320/P1040540.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_uGlmtUG5I/AAAAAAAAACE/_HDvaEA5hkw/s1600-h/P1040541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186887376451148690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_uGlmtUG5I/AAAAAAAAACE/_HDvaEA5hkw/s320/P1040541.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Yesterday was rough. Gavin and I were butting heads all day and it was hard on both of us. I knew that he wasn't getting the stimulation and physical outlet that he needed, but we were busy with other things and he just never got the one on one time from me. I headed off to work and that was that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;This morning I got up when Cole left and took a shower right away. I came down and got a couple of things done, in addition to just hanging out with some coffee. I knew I was up early, but I didn't really think about just how early it was. Our coffee maker stays on for 2 hours, then automatically shuts off. In the first picture you can see the time, and that the little light is off. It had just turned off, so that means that I was up brewing coffee at 5:30. That was well after my shower! Good for me, especially since I went to bed at 11 or so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My attitude is much better this morning. I am trying to be more relaxed and just going with it. The second picture is our pretty predictable morning routine, except that Gavin usually helps make the coffee, but obviously that was already done. This time he just helped with the waffles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I really enjoyed my time alone and need to drag myself out of bed early more often. We all benefit!&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/3551585128195721279-2238757943195561305?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/2238757943195561305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=2238757943195561305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2238757943195561305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2238757943195561305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/04/value-of-alone-time.html' title='The value of alone time'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_uGkmtUG4I/AAAAAAAAAB8/EF_ivedvT8M/s72-c/P1040540.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-9052664230729200547</id><published>2008-04-04T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-04T08:01:18.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh come on, I'm only 32!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_ZCe2tUG3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/tupt3sTwdPs/s1600-h/P1040539.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185405118812789618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_ZCe2tUG3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/tupt3sTwdPs/s320/P1040539.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you believe how many pills are in that picture? The 2 little ones are my birth control and my thryoid pill. I started having to take the thyroid one when I was pregant, so I don't know if I'll get off of it or not. I still take a prenatal vitamin since I'm breastfeeding. I also have a raging sinus infection, so I am on 2 honker antibiotic pills, twice a day for 14 days. The 2 reddish looking ones are the Ibuprofen I need to keep my head from trobbing right off my body. I also use a teapot looking thing (neti pot) to clean out my sinuses daily, and a steroid nasal spray (not pictured because it's in the bathroom). The nasal spray is very helpful in reducing the inflammation in my sinuses and helping me to feel a lot better. I used to give that many pills to my patients in the hospital. When did I start taking so many??? I'm only 32 years old!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-9052664230729200547?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/9052664230729200547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=9052664230729200547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/9052664230729200547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/9052664230729200547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/04/oh-come-on-im-only-32.html' title='Oh come on, I&apos;m only 32!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R_ZCe2tUG3I/AAAAAAAAAB0/tupt3sTwdPs/s72-c/P1040539.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-2585937259913503972</id><published>2008-04-02T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T09:59:39.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Would you please put it away?</title><content type='html'>Gavin has been getting better and better at going potty on the toilet. He spends most of his days in underwear, which is so unbelievably cute! When he pulls them back up, he tends to do it crooked. Sometimes not everything is put away completely and I have to help him a little. I must say, I have really cracked up when he comes around the corner and says "Mom, I need a little help with this" and I can see what the problem is-there's a little someone poking out to say "hello". Well, it was cute when it wasn't on purpose. He just put his underwear on for the day and was working hard to get "it" to hang back out. I gently told him that we wear underwear to keep things contained and put away, but he really wanted to have it out. Nice. I told him that he needs to leave it in the underwear, or I'll make him wear pants. That was the end of that. At least he has underwear on today. The other day he didn't have any on and I would catch him "exploring" the area. Boys. Hmmm. There's a fine line between shaming him and explaining what is proper in front of others. I'm not ready for this!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, I have decided not to include a picture with this one, even though it would be insanely funny :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-2585937259913503972?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/2585937259913503972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=2585937259913503972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2585937259913503972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/2585937259913503972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/04/would-you-please-put-it-away.html' title='Would you please put it away?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-4792520617376332455</id><published>2008-03-27T14:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T14:12:22.921-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Waking Sequence</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMn2tUGzI/AAAAAAAAABU/xTt09gqKshY/s1600-h/P1040471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182531150036605746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMn2tUGzI/AAAAAAAAABU/xTt09gqKshY/s320/P1040471.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMoGtUG0I/AAAAAAAAABc/LIy2TfkqLzk/s1600-h/P1040472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182531154331573058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMoGtUG0I/AAAAAAAAABc/LIy2TfkqLzk/s320/P1040472.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMoWtUG1I/AAAAAAAAABk/3sLzzKnGRQM/s1600-h/P1040473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182531158626540370" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMoWtUG1I/AAAAAAAAABk/3sLzzKnGRQM/s320/P1040473.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMoWtUG2I/AAAAAAAAABs/FPw4dLFqtE0/s1600-h/P1040475.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182531158626540386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMoWtUG2I/AAAAAAAAABs/FPw4dLFqtE0/s320/P1040475.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, for my second post, I am still putting up pictures of Justin sleeping. I'm not sure exactly why I do that. Maybe because his sleep brings me so much peace, or maybe it's because sleeping babies are so completely innocent and we all need a dose of innocence. Either way, I had to go in and wake him recently. I know, I know... never wake a sleeping baby. Well, we had to get going somewhere, so poor Justin had to be pulled out of his oh so beautiful sleep. He loves to sleep on his belly and pushed up against the railing. Good thing we have never been believers in crib bumpers! Sorry that the pictures are a little blurry, but you get the idea. Sleeping, sleeping with the eyes open, coming to consciousness, recognizing Mama!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-4792520617376332455?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/4792520617376332455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=4792520617376332455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4792520617376332455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/4792520617376332455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/03/waking-sequence.html' title='The Waking Sequence'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-wMn2tUGzI/AAAAAAAAABU/xTt09gqKshY/s72-c/P1040471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3551585128195721279.post-7043438801013977223</id><published>2008-03-24T17:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T17:31:24.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not much to say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-hHyGtUGsI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KDbDvQiQNTc/s1600-h/stomach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181470297409460930" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-hHyGtUGsI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KDbDvQiQNTc/s320/stomach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, here I am. I really enjoy reading my friend Christie's blog, so I thought I would follow in her footsteps and make my own. I do admit though, I don't read it as much as I would like. Life is a little busy! I work evenings and night shifts, and try to stay awake for my boys during the day. I find that I can barely remember the little things when I'm tired, so anything extra gets let go. I do the dishes and some laundry, feed the boys and that's about it on the days after I work all night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I write this, Justin is stuck on his belly crying. He seemed tired so I put him down to sleep for a bit, but he rolled over. Someday he will learn to roll back, but for now, he gets stuck. He's not screaming, so I'm going to let him be for another minute. How else is he going to learn to flip? Gavin on the other hand is sound asleep. I need to wake him since it's 1730 (that's 5:30pm). Oh, well, he just came up behind me and started talking. I guess he's up! Maybe the crying woke him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know it's hard to see because of the mobile, but the picture is a snapshot from the camera in Justin's room. He's face down, wearing a sleep sack. Oooo, he's quited down. His face is to the side, so I think I'll let him be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you for visiting!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3551585128195721279-7043438801013977223?l=therinehardts.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/feeds/7043438801013977223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3551585128195721279&amp;postID=7043438801013977223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7043438801013977223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3551585128195721279/posts/default/7043438801013977223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://therinehardts.blogspot.com/2008/03/not-much-to-say.html' title='Not much to say'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06544287760719731828</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/STtsGR0VqOI/AAAAAAAAANE/W8Q1t1UJS4M/S220/P1050628.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K3m3LLxISHU/R-hHyGtUGsI/AAAAAAAAAAM/KDbDvQiQNTc/s72-c/stomach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
