<?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-3760782692935972587</id><updated>2012-01-02T10:53:52.262-08:00</updated><category term='Pet Peeves'/><title type='text'>AZ Larsens</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>214</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1236838221256363165</id><published>2011-10-21T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T19:41:48.003-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Man's Man</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I volunteered in J.J.'s class and was filing these short stories in a filing cabinet that his class had written. &amp;nbsp;The topic was something like "What I would do if I went to a ball" or something to that effect. &amp;nbsp;The girls all had these elaborate stories including what color their dresses would be, how a prince would come pick them up, take them out to dinner, they would dance all night, etc. &amp;nbsp;A few of the boys even had details like being picked up in a limo, and having a fancy dinner or whatnot. &amp;nbsp;It was actually quite impressive! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majority of the boys however had stories like my boy. &amp;nbsp;And when I got to his, I had to take a picture. &amp;nbsp;If I was smart and knew how to operate my dumb phone (and it is literally a dumb phone) I could post this pic. &amp;nbsp;Instead I will write his story out for your reading pleasure. &amp;nbsp;Don't worry, it won't take me long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"First I would get a suit and throw it on me. &amp;nbsp;Next I would go to the party. &amp;nbsp;Then I would eat dinner and go to bed." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, definitely a man's man. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing was that the next story I had to file was a Halloween story and he filled the entire page with details about bloody zombies and graves and skeletons and the like. &amp;nbsp;At least I know he has writing skills when the subject interests him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1236838221256363165?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1236838221256363165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1236838221256363165&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1236838221256363165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1236838221256363165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/10/mans-man.html' title='A Man&apos;s Man'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6614889271913280319</id><published>2011-10-12T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T13:36:47.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Honesty...it's such a lonely word.</title><content type='html'>Wow. &amp;nbsp;It's been so long since I posted that I didn't even recognize the new look that blogger has and it took me a minute to figure out how to write a new post! &amp;nbsp;Oops. &amp;nbsp;I don't even have time to write a full update. &amp;nbsp;I've increased my workload for my work-at-home job, at the most inconvenient time ever: &amp;nbsp;right before Fall Break when my kids are out of school for a week. &amp;nbsp;Yup, I'm an idiot. &amp;nbsp;But hey, when you need more money you gotta do what you gotta do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on here because Trey always says and does some really funny/weird stuff and I decided I need to start writing these things down so I don't forget them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6:30 this morning I hear running feet down the hallway. &amp;nbsp;Not unusual at my house because my children awaken at the crack of dawn. &amp;nbsp;I do not understand this and never will. &amp;nbsp;But we do have a rule at my house, and that is that they don't come out of their room until 7:00 A.M. &amp;nbsp;This rule is ALWAYS being broken. &amp;nbsp;Anyway, I go to investigate the sound of running feet in the hall at 6:30 A.M. and I find Trey fully dressed in jeans, T-shirt, socks and shoes. &amp;nbsp;What the what? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me - "Trey, what are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;Trey - "Oh! &amp;nbsp;Me and Bubba had an idea. &amp;nbsp;We're going to sneak out of the house, and go steal stuff." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And...another day begins in the Larsen household. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6614889271913280319?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6614889271913280319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6614889271913280319&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6614889271913280319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6614889271913280319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/10/honestyits-such-lonely-word.html' title='Honesty...it&apos;s such a lonely word.'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4580256909131484270</id><published>2011-08-26T22:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T22:25:51.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Am I Insane?</title><content type='html'>Maybe.  In 2 days my oldest child will turn 8 years old.  Yes yes, I can't believe it either.  But what I can't believe EVEN MORE is that I was crazy enough to convince him to have his very first "friend" birthday party.  Yes, you read that right.  He's never had a friend birthday party, and I had to CONVINCE him to have one.  He didn't want to do it and I made him do it.  Of course now he's excited, the invited have been sent out, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;RSVP's&lt;/span&gt; (sort of ) RSVP-ed, and there's no backing out!  I am stressed to the max!  The party is tomorrow.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just have to keep reminding myself:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  I have planned for every possible scenario (seriously, every possible one.  It's a little ridiculous.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  It's only 1 1/2 hours long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  It WILL be fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  I'm doing this for my son, so he can have fun with his friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  And lastly, I have my supply of migraine &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt; waiting for me at home when the party is over.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4580256909131484270?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4580256909131484270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4580256909131484270&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4580256909131484270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4580256909131484270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/08/am-i-insane.html' title='Am I Insane?'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7982367368427668474</id><published>2011-08-17T19:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T19:52:26.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye Sari!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My little sis Sari is headed off to the big bad world of college!  So we decided to have one last sisters' night before she left.  You know, a farewell to Mesa since she won't be back until...next weekend.  Let's face it, she has a car and she's only 2.5 hours away so she will be back frequently! But still, it won't be the same.  She's a grown up (kind of) now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started off by going out to dinner.  We forced her to pick the place.  And by forced, I literally mean forced.  She is so indecisive!  It was baby steps with this girl.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "Sari, where do you want to eat?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sari - "I don't know, wherever."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "No Sari, you have to pick!  It's YOUR night!  You have to pick your favorite place!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sari - "I don't have a favorite place."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "Okay well where is a place you like then?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sari - "I don't know, wherever."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "OH MY HECK!  Okay...what kind of food do you like?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sari - "Um...Mexican?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "Okay!  Mexican!  Are we talking Taco Bell?  Filiberto's?  On the Border?  Chili's?  Serrano's?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sari - "I don't know..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - "AUGH!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sari - "Okay okay...Costa Vida?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And that is how we finally had a place to go!  Here we are all ready to go.  Correction, here we are where I am all ready to go and my sisters are making fun of me for being too overdressed compared to them.  I can't help it, I don't get out much so when I do get a chance to go out in public, I actually do my hair (kind of) and makeup and put on jeans and a shirt without stains on it.  :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TWIQHUm4hyU/Tkx63JTNF8I/AAAAAAAABbs/hkAhtuEN4OY/s400/103_1799.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My boys wanted in on a picture too.  Well, they all did until the last second and then Samuel tried to bolt but I forced him and then we got this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q29M76t3eQ4/Tkx63embOyI/AAAAAAAABb0/dMZ2ciZSr80/s400/103_1800.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then since she had actually been up in Flagstaff the previous week getting to know her roommates and the "lay of the land", we made her dish up the details.  Here she is ready to dish it up:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ppCnT5uY59E/Tkx7q3oqY6I/AAAAAAAABb8/TMesdyE_xKo/s400/103_1803.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here Nikki is ready to hear the good stuff:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rxlnqKiNSI4/Tkx7rMmKJFI/AAAAAAAABcE/6ssLV-CbmTU/s400/103_1804.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here I am with my giant scary eyeballs totally enraptured by tales of having to write your name on laundry detergent and food, splitting the cost of toilet paper, and weird roommate decoration choices:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HLa7jwnhcBU/Tkx7rR39RiI/AAAAAAAABcM/qDvLL8NwVYA/s400/103_1805.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We ate our delicious food and then left, and my crazy little sisters got in the fountain outside.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tHqH0LhHOHo/Tkx7rqYuLAI/AAAAAAAABcU/Wdzcnh9-4Xk/s400/103_1806.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't because I'm old and they said it was cold.  Also I was wearing jeans and someone had to take the picture right?  And then I saw a cricket almost crawl into my bag and I freaked out.  I made Nikki carry my bag and empty the whole thing and make sure there were no other crickets that snuck in there.  Have I mentioned my irrational fear of bugs?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, we got ice cream, came back to my place and watched a movie, talked, and had a grand ole time.  I hope Sari has as much fun at college as I did!  They really were some of the best years of my life.  As I recently read in an awesome book I'm reading, Sari has "started a journey from which she will never really return."    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-7982367368427668474?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7982367368427668474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7982367368427668474&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7982367368427668474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7982367368427668474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/08/bye-sari.html' title='Bye Sari!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TWIQHUm4hyU/Tkx63JTNF8I/AAAAAAAABbs/hkAhtuEN4OY/s72-c/103_1799.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-459472723906913605</id><published>2011-08-10T19:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-10T20:09:05.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aw yeah...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You know what this pictures means right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFiOimxenBA/TkNAHv_tyDI/AAAAAAAABak/kRC5PkU9pC8/s400/103_1770.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It means BACK TO SCHOOL!  Today was the day I have been counting down for all summer long.  Trey had his first day of full day Kindergarten and J.J. started 2nd grade.  They were VERY excited to finally be in the same school together and ride the bus together!  Usually I take them to school on the first day but they weren't having any of that.  They waited long enough for this day and wanted to ride the bus NOW! So I decided to follow in my car and let them have their fun.  Aren't they just adorable?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wju5J0VGMx4/TkNAH-b5bXI/AAAAAAAABas/sJ_w3NoUGPY/s400/103_1773.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trey can hardly contain himself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NvuDjCz0APM/TkNAIMGv4tI/AAAAAAAABa0/ZRK06GOhLoc/s400/103_1778.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The difference in personalities between J.J. and Trey sometimes cracks me up.  Remember J.J.'s &lt;a href="http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-school.html"&gt;first day of school&lt;/a&gt;?  Yeah, this was nothing like that.  Trey literally ran off the bus.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RvqUy6tVr4g/TkNCJbIYzYI/AAAAAAAABbU/V0-J18LsH5k/s400/103_1779.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He was the first one in his classroom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3vFPqWmr6eM/TkNCJrnZvTI/AAAAAAAABbc/1GtLDsDVJx4/s400/103_1784.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After "Meet The Teacher" yesterday all Trey could talk about was how he gets his very own desk!  Here he is, sitting at the famed desk!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5-aPKJbRdRE/TkNAIcrgiBI/AAAAAAAABa8/2DtbhnaS1f0/s400/103_1786.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J.J. was such a sweetheart, he didn't even want to run off and play with his friends he's missed all summer.  He wanted to be with Trey on his first morning of Kindergarten!  Here they are, still not embarrassed to be seen together.  How long will this last I wonder?  I hope it never ends!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DFJIuTzu0xA/TkNAozi5wUI/AAAAAAAABbE/GvZWyPiH6Uc/s400/103_1788.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And before I left I had to snap a quick picture of the big 2nd grader going into class for the day.  Luckily he's not too cool to wave bye to Mom.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pji_N-3bgMs/TkNApCG3ZWI/AAAAAAAABbM/jdGsAlU0YKE/s400/103_1796.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well...here's hoping we have a great school year!  Samuel starts preschool next week.  Then I'll FINALLY get to clean this house!  And trust me, it needs it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-459472723906913605?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/459472723906913605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=459472723906913605&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/459472723906913605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/459472723906913605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/08/aw-yeah.html' title='Aw yeah...'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IFiOimxenBA/TkNAHv_tyDI/AAAAAAAABak/kRC5PkU9pC8/s72-c/103_1770.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-153716076928804011</id><published>2011-07-16T14:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-16T15:39:26.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Grandpa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Last Friday my Grandpa Black passed away.  I had been expecting the news.  Still though, when I got the phone call and heard the words it felt like a punch to the stomach.  Luckily I was able to go visit him 2 weeks ago.  I heard he had been admitted to the hospital and things were not looking good.  I felt very strongly that if I wanted to see him one more time in this life, NOW was the time.  So even though we were leaving for a family wedding in a couple of days, I packed up, took J.J., and the two of us left for Utah that very same day.  We had some adventures along the way that I'll blog about another time but we made it to Utah in one piece and were able to spend a couple of hours with Grandpa and some other family members.  It was a great visit and I'm SO glad we were able to make it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's me, J.J., and my Grandpa:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qE4ozMeD9ho/TiILHjLxKWI/AAAAAAAABZE/zN06_GEnhmk/s400/Gpa_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandma Susan was ordering Grandpa's dinner so we had to take another picture with her in it!  I love her so much.  I've been thinking about her a lot this last week, the two of them were always together.  They were such a great team and supported each other so well.  I love &lt;a href="http://magazine.byu.edu/?act=view&amp;amp;a=221"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; article about them.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5BGg0-sMTx8/TiILIB8yZeI/AAAAAAAABZM/1wCNvZI174w/s400/Gpa_2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is my Grandpa's funeral and I was not able to attend.  I had decided early on that if I could make a trip to Utah I'd rather make it to visit him, not to attend his funeral.  And I later heard that he had made the comment, "I'd rather be seen, not viewed." That makes me feel better about the fact I'm not there today!  I'm posting his &lt;a href="http://www.heraldextra.com/lifestyles/announcements/obituaries/article_8336233e-c228-56f7-a236-cb3cd8cb764d.html"&gt;Obituary&lt;/a&gt; just for my own references.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This last week I've been looking at a lot of pictures of my Grandpa, and reading this awesome book that he and Grandma Susan wrote together a couple years ago about his life.  I'm so grateful they thought to do that!  My kids, especially J.J., have LOVED looking through it and learning all about him.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OZbEs5X3jCM/TiIRVPfIzVI/AAAAAAAABaM/XWQrsPUlE34/s400/103_1701.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought I'd just post some pictures I found too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1980  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gKr1UEN5F5k/TiIM9GCJ6UI/AAAAAAAABZs/dTPNfIm7dIM/s400/gpa%2526me.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1998&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AZ3jojv-pEY/TiIM9Gf1S8I/AAAAAAAABZ0/OS1NMvf7QBA/s400/black%2Bfam.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DmVOzWkXD-8/TiIMuspK2FI/AAAAAAAABZU/AASduZ4G8lM/s400/DSCF4878.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2010&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fy1h6PkZqMs/TiIMvELFRtI/AAAAAAAABZk/LgRrdeF-oQE/s400/100_2239%2B-%2BCopy.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--p3aVVHO0hc/TiIMu3Mx1pI/AAAAAAAABZc/jZw1OxNgjLI/s400/100_2236.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you Grandpa! Thank you for your awesome example to me and I will see you again someday!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-153716076928804011?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/153716076928804011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=153716076928804011&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/153716076928804011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/153716076928804011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/07/goodbye-grandpa.html' title='Goodbye Grandpa'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qE4ozMeD9ho/TiILHjLxKWI/AAAAAAAABZE/zN06_GEnhmk/s72-c/Gpa_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7487513501435507974</id><published>2011-07-08T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-08T22:08:26.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sometime in May we went camping.  It was fun.  I really need to be better about blogging because 2 months after the fact, the details of the trip become very hazy.  Luckily I took a lot of pictures and can recap the trip based on those!  We didn't really have a particular site we were going to, which really made me nervous.  I am a planner by nature and like to have things mapped out beforehand.  I don't do "spontaneous" things.  I don't like surprises.  I don't like figuring things out as I go along.  I like lists.  I like maps.  I like plans, backup plans, and backup backup plans.  So...I tried to do my research as best as I could but the fact of the matter was that free camping is a first come, first serve situation and needless to say, I was stressed out about getting a good spot!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we left on Friday evening after the boys got out of school and drove up just past Payson.  We picked up a pizza in town for dinner because we were going to get there just before it got dark, too late to try to cook up some grub and set up camp!  And just as I feared...we drove and drove and drove trying to find a decent unoccupied spot.  We finally found an open spot at dusk and quickly set up our tent, unloaded what we needed for the night, and went to sleep.  We were WAY too close to the "Rim" (Mogollon Rim for those familiar with Arizona) for my comfort level.  I have 3 very curious boys who are...let's just say...NOT the best at listening to their mom.  I was afraid one of them was just going to fall right off this massive cliff drop and die.  The drop was literally 30 feet from our camping spot.  So in the morning, we debated what to do.  Should we move?  Stay?  We decided to eat some breakfast and think about it.  First things first, we needed to start a fire.  What's camping without a camp fire right?  We put the boys to work finding some wood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yo_YQTLJkbw/ThfVq1Jr6nI/AAAAAAAABVU/pWChpd8VAmg/s400/103_1297.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then we poured some lighter fluid on it and lit it up.  J.J. was in heaven!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trey...not so much.  He HATED the smoke and demanded that he sit in the van until the "fire was over".  He looked pretty cute though.  Don't you agree?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ETIsqg3u4C0/ThfVrM_dvyI/AAAAAAAABVc/3x9OnOpjKEM/s400/103_1298.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is, until he set the car alarm off.  Did I mention it was only 6:30 in the morning at this point?  I'm sure our camping neighbors LOVED us.  However, I did not feel very bad about it.  Because said neighbors had themselves a grand old time drinking and loudly partying until 3:30 A.M.  Let's just say I had myself a little bit of passive aggressive enjoyment at my son setting the alarm off and imagining their hangover headaches pounding at the sound of it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Samuel was just being plain adorable.  And I was being plain scary with no makeup.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-keO4z8EBVSQ/ThfVrV36T8I/AAAAAAAABVk/rEtEvCUgQw0/s400/103_1305.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After breakfast we went for a SUPER long walk around our camp area looking for a better spot.  It was a longer walk than we thought it was going to be.  See Samuel's face?  This is how we all felt:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JtlQi8aATjw/ThfVsb_VFuI/AAAAAAAABV0/ZTWLtwPjknY/s400/103_1313.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the walk was worth it because we found a better spot.  Still a bit close but not as close to the Rim.  The kids and I stayed there and Josh ran back to go get some stuff to stake our claim on the spot.  J.J. was not happy about it.  He liked our old spot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nkk3RlNgSMM/ThfbQh7sTfI/AAAAAAAABWE/ZZo7bouTPag/s400/103_1316.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't worry, he got in big trouble for sticking his tongue out at me.  He's actually sitting on that stump in timeout.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other two kids were happy about moving.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vwjc2cibJLg/Thfb02E08uI/AAAAAAAABWM/TMUz8TIeTf4/s400/103_1317.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Samuel was so happy he hugged every tree in our new spot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Gn_ALcaVTdo/Thfb1F-eU2I/AAAAAAAABWU/HIi8R4gBCJY/s400/103_1315.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right after Josh got back, a fellow camper saw us and gave us a tip, to check out a better campsite down the road and across the highway.  So we decided to have Josh drive over, check it out, and come back for us if he saw it looked good.  By this time I was thinking how ridiculous it was that we were essentially spending our entire day trying to find a better camp spot but also thinking it was kind of funny and would make for a good story later.  So Josh took Samuel (who by this time desperately needed a nap) and J.J. (who was insanely grumpy) for the car ride to go check it out, and left me and Trey to wait.  And we waited...and waited...and waited.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rxaZQYSBqu0/ThfVr-2WfYI/AAAAAAAABVs/Xr8tIG4uBMg/s400/103_1308.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zlhjqtV1fsk/ThfccW99lKI/AAAAAAAABWk/GZlnG2R4b4o/s400/103_1320.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xarv4CqXLF8/Thfcbx1t09I/AAAAAAAABWc/c4cxijmn99E/s400/103_1318.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trey started to get worried they were never coming back!  In the end it was all worth it though.  Josh found the BEST camping spot EVER!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MvBzMrqOUS4/Thfcvcv2YCI/AAAAAAAABWs/20qpHfW9ftA/s400/103_1323.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It had this huge open field next to it, plenty of shade, and no campers next to us.  PERFECT.  My sister and her hubby joined us (and brought a portable potty seat, HALLELUJAH!) and from then on, we had a perfect camp trip!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We played some baseball in the field:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EL_qqVDwo1Y/Thfd-Bn-AVI/AAAAAAAABW0/IzbXDQNkSTM/s400/103_1325.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wKSvlKt01XI/Thfe_U0h56I/AAAAAAAABXc/oJwm3Q9jy_k/s400/103_1334.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-l-rbf3C-Xfk/ThfeXB5ZrNI/AAAAAAAABXM/HUVb8p7cmFw/s400/103_1329.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AT_nSNfNvhY/ThfeWjIURzI/AAAAAAAABXE/GMVvHineEMs/s400/103_1328.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Samuel got some loves from his Aunt Nikki:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6w1RfAoFt0o/Thfd-YWlNKI/AAAAAAAABW8/76Ebgiip2CA/s400/103_1327.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a little rough patch when Trey realized there was no TV when we were camping...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g3kpWlNI54M/Thfe_Fa0O_I/AAAAAAAABXU/A6Hu4DNAgEQ/s400/103_1330.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He still wasn't over it when we tried to take a family picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OIFrIgwSXSU/ThfaBaf7U9I/AAAAAAAABV8/nQ6GXM2fKSY/s400/103_1326.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day on the way out of town we stopped to check out Christopher Creek for a few minutes.  The boys loved it and now they want to go fishing.  I'm gonna have to leave that up to Josh.  I hate fish.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ncjy61uBpyw/Thfe_vZVFVI/AAAAAAAABXk/91v7LyAsSLo/s400/103_1338.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But all in all, we had a great trip!  I didn't sleep very well because I'm the lightest sleeper on the face of the planet, and camping with kids = no staying up late to play fun games...but the kids did better than I expected!  And unlike this &lt;a href="http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/08/roughing-it.html"&gt;camping trip&lt;/a&gt;, there was NO putting flashlights in the fire, sticking hands in the fire, or picking up hot coals.  So that was nice.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I kind of forgot about taking pictures the rest of the time.  My sis did a great recap, complete with video, on her blog.  Check it out &lt;a href="http://twopeasinaspacepod.blogspot.com/2011/05/larsenmason-campout.html"&gt;here!&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/3760782692935972587-7487513501435507974?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7487513501435507974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7487513501435507974&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7487513501435507974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7487513501435507974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/07/camping.html' title='Camping!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yo_YQTLJkbw/ThfVq1Jr6nI/AAAAAAAABVU/pWChpd8VAmg/s72-c/103_1297.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1556163955478888991</id><published>2011-07-06T10:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T10:48:05.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All about Trey!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I don't know where to start to catch up so I'll start where I left off.  Trey turned 6 years old!  I can't believe it.  It seems like just yesterday he looked like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UZBf_d8e_ww/ThSegfj1fVI/AAAAAAAABVM/CEwrAnaDYBg/s400/DSCF2081.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now he's huge!  For some reason I can't find any pictures of his cake.  Oh well, I'm sure it wasn't anything special because a cake decorator I most certainly AM NOT.  J.J. was very excited to get him this shirt though:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LgGIyH6bx70/ThSaoKGGieI/AAAAAAAABUU/8mBYTAHVlxU/s400/100_1288.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He also scored a Lego set (which Josh and I spent over an hour putting together...) some Bakugans, and other stuff I can't remember now but I'm sure I have stepped on and put away 1,000 times by now.  :)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few days later he had a singing program at school.  For weeks beforehand I heard him singing the songs at home non-stop.  The day of the program arrives...and he stood up there and didn't sing the ENTIRE time!  My little charismatic boy sat there like a statue and I have it all on film.  But he sure was cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XyE3BZxHG4g/ThSaozKNGVI/AAAAAAAABUk/kfkMfZW5tV8/s400/100_1371.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly it's the ADHD medication.  It calms him down so he is manageable at school...but also makes him very nervous/anxious and he loses some of his "stage presence" if you will.  Here's a cute shot of him and his teacher from this year.  They had some ups and downs but they survived.  I think they learned a lot from each other this year and he has since told me he misses her.  Aw...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iZPcTtEsDzY/ThSapeJUQnI/AAAAAAAABUs/Vj5Pf04oqFM/s400/100_1380.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the program that day we got out earlier than normal and were able to spontaneously join J.J. at his school for lunch!  We hadn't been able to do that all year because the exact time I had to pick up Trey from school was the exact of J.J.'s lunch so it never worked out.  So we surprised J.J., which was also good because this will be Trey's school next year and he was able to see what eating lunch at school will be like.  J.J. got to pick some friends to eat with.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w959Hlc3YbA/ThSapiI8E0I/AAAAAAAABU0/KwrPH9nkLZ0/s400/100_1381.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love this next picture because even though J.J. was surrounded by his friends, he still was happy to see Trey and wasn't too embarrassed to hang out with him.  They really are best friends.  Sheesh, I'm almost getting teary eyed even looking at this picture right now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YCfTcePGXVA/ThSdCeE9koI/AAAAAAAABU8/RBblJK9olnk/s400/100_1382.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I had a lot of fun volunteering in Trey's class this past year when I could fit it in between work, etc.  He struggled a lot in the beginning of the year but I think really surprised everyone in the end!  (not me though, I knew he was a little smarty pants and just needed to adjust!)  I love my Trey.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--YFjMwdD0jg/ThSdC5DLGBI/AAAAAAAABVE/-WgTIdR8e6I/s400/100_1384.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1556163955478888991?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1556163955478888991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1556163955478888991&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1556163955478888991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1556163955478888991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/07/all-about-trey.html' title='All about Trey!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UZBf_d8e_ww/ThSegfj1fVI/AAAAAAAABVM/CEwrAnaDYBg/s72-c/DSCF2081.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7452943509327198725</id><published>2011-06-29T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-01T22:28:51.094-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer is here, and so am I.</title><content type='html'>I am still here, I am still alive.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's Summer, which is NOT a time of relaxation for mothers with small children!  Instead I seem to be constantly running around like a chicken with its head cut off.  I literally have no time to do anything.  My house is just gross.  The floor is disgusting.  In fact, I should be cleaning it right now instead of blogging.  There are officially SIX, yes, SIX weeks until school starts again!  That my friends, is 42 days away.  I think I can survive that long.  We are keeping busy with swimming lessons, free lunch at a local school, summer recreation programs, summer movie programs, summer library reading program, dragging the boys with me on every stupid errand I have to run...and unfortunately I had to increase my workload for my at-home job right as school was letting out so there's that too!  I'll blog soon about all the stuff we've been up to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-7452943509327198725?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7452943509327198725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7452943509327198725&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7452943509327198725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7452943509327198725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-is-here-and-so-am-i.html' title='Summer is here, and so am I.'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6526983106507869683</id><published>2011-05-24T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T22:04:48.337-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 53-60</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yup, I'm sick of this now.  I feel like I can't blog about anything else going on because I haven't finished with the dang 60 day challenge.  So let's just wrap it up now shall we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 53 - A picture of someone you think is hot.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Besides the obvious answer (yes of course I think my husband is hot) I have to say this guy is pretty hot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZW5hj1k4Bx0/TdyKavoTOTI/AAAAAAAABTk/VItJbpgOlnc/s400/johnnydepp.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 54 - A picture of the one thing you would bring if you were stranded on a deserted island.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I would bring this guy.  He's pretty handy to have around.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CyKxWmEr0Ik/TdyMqf8RgnI/AAAAAAAABT8/BfiUbcadFEw/s400/100_1218.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 55 - A picture of the last movie you saw in theaters.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We don't get out much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vmefaJOxhV4/TdyMBZzkpII/AAAAAAAABT0/jE7PF-V4ePE/s400/I-AM-NUMBER-FOUR-MTI-HC-c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 56 - A picture of something that makes you happy&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I'm having a bad day, one of these makes me happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GkZ1hPKEXt4/TdyKaDIxScI/AAAAAAAABTc/XFozHfuN_kM/s400/dove-chocolate.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 57 - A picture of your favorite holiday.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Christmas!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rlfJ7j9Kmus/TdyNilJqy0I/AAAAAAAABUE/TWx8C3MqZIY/s400/101_0819.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 58 - A picture of your favorite animal.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is no picture here because my favorite animal is any animal that I don't own.  :)  Again, not an animal-hater, just don't want to be the one responsible for taking care of it!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 59 - A picture of a random item that you own.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My sis got me this for my birthday and told me it was the best water bottle in the world.  She was totally right!  It doesn't spill when I drop it, it's totally amazing!&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tyVNdSgF8OM/TdyKZxqF5HI/AAAAAAAABTU/NOAl-wXGGyA/s400/BetterBottle_53033_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Day 60 - A picture of something you're excited about:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Yes, that's right, I'm excited for school to start...in August.  And yes, I'm fully away that we still have 2 days of this current school year left.  So what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family:&amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3VS2Q9xwIIw/TdyKahtrbSI/AAAAAAAABTs/1q__XrOwKdE/s400/SchoolHouse.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6526983106507869683?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6526983106507869683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6526983106507869683&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6526983106507869683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6526983106507869683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-53-60.html' title='Day 53-60'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZW5hj1k4Bx0/TdyKavoTOTI/AAAAAAAABTk/VItJbpgOlnc/s72-c/johnnydepp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5310963779436163233</id><published>2011-05-10T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T13:44:58.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 52</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 52 - A picture of your favorite sport.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EwFpu9VCL2M/TcmjoXNvTNI/AAAAAAAABTM/_s1uj4ObpuY/s400/Ufc_logo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sorry people, my head hurts too bad to blog.  But suffice it to say, I love me some UFC!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5310963779436163233?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5310963779436163233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5310963779436163233&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5310963779436163233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5310963779436163233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-52.html' title='Day 52'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EwFpu9VCL2M/TcmjoXNvTNI/AAAAAAAABTM/_s1uj4ObpuY/s72-c/Ufc_logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5152750531253963154</id><published>2011-05-06T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T14:34:18.608-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 51</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 51 - A picture of your dream car.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ever since I learned how to drive, I've had a dream.  A dream that one day, I would have a car exactly like this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KFCLPqosNVA/TcRofNxBwZI/AAAAAAAABS8/cNv0_UffsBg/s400/0808chp_01_z%252Bcustom_chevy_chevelle%252Bfront_side_view.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I even had a picture of it on my bedroom wall all through high school and college.  I still have that picture somewhere...  Isn't it beautiful?  They just don't make cars like that these days.  Sometimes when I'm driving my actual vehicle:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k6KkBaKJr1Q/TcRo2gOLFDI/AAAAAAAABTE/xxUAYTP0ocM/s400/2007-Honda-Odyssey.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I try to pretend it's my Chevy Chevelle.  It doesn't really work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5152750531253963154?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5152750531253963154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5152750531253963154&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5152750531253963154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5152750531253963154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-51.html' title='Day 51'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KFCLPqosNVA/TcRofNxBwZI/AAAAAAAABS8/cNv0_UffsBg/s72-c/0808chp_01_z%252Bcustom_chevy_chevelle%252Bfront_side_view.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1051716195647559473</id><published>2011-05-04T21:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-04T21:39:17.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 50</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 50 - A picture of your most frequented place.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;This was a two way tie.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Of course the grocery store won a spot.  I love this store.  It's a Kroger brand store and they always have the best sales, which I can match with my coupons.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QgcgEh48zEg/TcIo4NevruI/AAAAAAAABS0/b8MsLJuqbjA/s400/Frys_225.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;And then...we have the pharmacy.  Ironically, I don't think I've filled a prescription for MYSELF in a year.  But somehow I manage to be at the pharmacy at least once a week for the other members of my family.  The pharmacist actually recognizes me and knows my family's names.  If you think about it, a pharmacist can&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt; actually know QUITE A BIT about your family just by the prescriptions you fill!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: normal; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2cc2WGZdhW4/TcIo3zbqq6I/AAAAAAAABSs/nfsAhj0cgn4/s400/Targets-discount-drug-card.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Anyway...it's time for me to go to my favorite place of all right now.  MY BED!  Nighty night.&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/3760782692935972587-1051716195647559473?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1051716195647559473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1051716195647559473&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1051716195647559473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1051716195647559473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-50.html' title='Day 50'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QgcgEh48zEg/TcIo4NevruI/AAAAAAAABS0/b8MsLJuqbjA/s72-c/Frys_225.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1929583500136055541</id><published>2011-05-03T21:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T21:28:36.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 49</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 49 - A picture of where you live.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I live in the desert.  I hate it.  It's hot, it's brown, it's hot, there's not a lot of green, and did I mention it's hot yet?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Z6qFKWbFmg/TcDU6e2FtII/AAAAAAAABSU/DJzxHOSilJ0/s400/183526432_7f3477b1ef.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;I only like living here when this happens:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qeE33vPhw1s/TcDVY1PJfEI/AAAAAAAABSk/-lctKF8zMjo/s400/1148990353_p63Hd-M.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Desert monsoon storms are the bomb yo!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1929583500136055541?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1929583500136055541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1929583500136055541&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1929583500136055541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1929583500136055541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-49.html' title='Day 49'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_Z6qFKWbFmg/TcDU6e2FtII/AAAAAAAABSU/DJzxHOSilJ0/s72-c/183526432_7f3477b1ef.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1468212673442426705</id><published>2011-05-01T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T15:54:04.619-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 48</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 48 - A picture of your favorite actress/actor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Easy!  I like this guy:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5_IpIczJs6c/Tb3jh3YdngI/AAAAAAAABSE/NBDsIPtUY-I/s400/johnny-depp-20040826-8014.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2drIeMoT9jM/Tb3jh_x4kbI/AAAAAAAABR8/a2s2mk1uMGw/s400/johnny-depp1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;First of all, he's hot.  Second of all, he sounds like a really nice guy.  Now I know I don't actually know him, but it seems like I'm always hearing about how great a father he is, how devoted he is to his woman, and how he leaves giant tips for servers, or donates tons of money to charity, etc.  Plus, he's an amazing actor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Favorite actress?  I like this girl:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AxqzmIS00Ic/Tb3jhjtn2WI/AAAAAAAABR0/byEXS-T4-FU/s400/jennifer-garner1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;She's girl-next-door pretty, and okay I admit it, I loved "13 Going On 30"!  Plus just like Johnny Depp, she seems like an awesome parent.  I'm constantly seeing pictures of her holding either one or both of her girls, spending time with them, etc.  I also recently saw a picture of her doing charity work when she CLEARLY was not expecting a photo op, and hadn't told anyone before hand or made a big deal about it.  She seems down-to-earth, which I like!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1468212673442426705?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1468212673442426705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1468212673442426705&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1468212673442426705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1468212673442426705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-48.html' title='Day 48'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5_IpIczJs6c/Tb3jh3YdngI/AAAAAAAABSE/NBDsIPtUY-I/s72-c/johnny-depp-20040826-8014.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4338111848656805188</id><published>2011-05-01T15:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T15:45:12.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desperate!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I don't usually do this type of thing, but I would REALLY like a massage.  My neck and shoulders hurt EVERY SINGLE DAY.  I know it's stress-related and I know I should get massages or something to help but...let's get real here, I can't afford that!  So for Mother's Day this year, this is what I want!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://codystephsunderhaus.blogspot.com/2011/04/got2relax-mothers-day-may-specials-and_26.html"&gt;http://codystephsunderhaus.blogspot.com/2011/04/got2relax-mothers-day-may-specials-and_26.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4338111848656805188?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4338111848656805188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4338111848656805188&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4338111848656805188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4338111848656805188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/05/desperate.html' title='Desperate!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1324400862349172627</id><published>2011-04-30T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T12:20:43.461-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 47</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 47 - A picture of your favorite place to shop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;This one is easy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FLVx4SAtmjo/Tbxgzn-zfKI/AAAAAAAABRs/qDCzsyCApAg/s400/target_logo.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I love Target!  I could spend every penny I had here.   I seriously stalk their clearance racks every week.  LOVE me some Target...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1324400862349172627?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1324400862349172627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1324400862349172627&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1324400862349172627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1324400862349172627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-47.html' title='Day 47'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FLVx4SAtmjo/Tbxgzn-zfKI/AAAAAAAABRs/qDCzsyCApAg/s72-c/target_logo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1069699908776846665</id><published>2011-04-29T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T11:06:29.109-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 46</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 46 - A picture of where you wish you were right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Zvh-G2UHTE/Tbr-BMPgYQI/AAAAAAAABRk/kVm68Jy5Oj8/s400/hawaii8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gT7kO97qDO0/Tbr-A5LLtjI/AAAAAAAABRc/Gdb_SlcaTHM/s400/hawaii-6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kH2ZFbQLkv4/Tbr-AgFdZsI/AAAAAAAABRU/ea9rD9sML9Q/s400/hawaii_1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Need I say more?&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/3760782692935972587-1069699908776846665?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1069699908776846665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1069699908776846665&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1069699908776846665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1069699908776846665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-46.html' title='Day 46'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--Zvh-G2UHTE/Tbr-BMPgYQI/AAAAAAAABRk/kVm68Jy5Oj8/s72-c/hawaii8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3586719020476329135</id><published>2011-04-28T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-28T09:47:12.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 45</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 45 - A picture of your room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Did you notice I skipped Day 44?  I'll get back to it I promise.  I need to find a couple of pictures first.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Luckily, I happened to have taken a pic of my room a few weeks ago to show some friends how ridiculous it is.  It's basically a glorified storage room that we happen to sleep in.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4fRwCjAO55I/TbmYquoa7GI/AAAAAAAABRM/Aw4Y7v1F9x4/s400/000_0037.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Yes, those are giant garage-type storage cabinets that I bought off Craigslist (and yes, they were in the guy's garage).  We have those instead of dressers.  There is another one just off to the right and that's filled with food storage.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;The headboard of our bed is actually an old dining room table minus the legs.  I now use the dining room as my work-at-home space.  We were going to get rid of the table when suddenly I realized it would be PERFECT as a headboard for our bed!  I should be an interior designer...for white trash ghetto people.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;We're going for function here folks, not beauty!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3586719020476329135?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3586719020476329135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3586719020476329135&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3586719020476329135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3586719020476329135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-45.html' title='Day 45'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4fRwCjAO55I/TbmYquoa7GI/AAAAAAAABRM/Aw4Y7v1F9x4/s72-c/000_0037.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3046459309002696661</id><published>2011-04-27T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T13:02:43.137-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I love Easter.  Actually I love all holidays where I get to do fun things for my boys and see them get so excited.  I decorated as soon as St. Patrick's Day was over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xBfYfoEGbiQ/Tbhucoa7nEI/AAAAAAAABPc/2Z0t3ooz0iA/s400/100_1121.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dollar Tree find, egg and flower yard picks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D6NKhhanpBM/TbhucfycsCI/AAAAAAAABPU/oj9mDhvwBI4/s400/100_1120.JPG" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This stupid inflatable egg deflated within one day and I ended up throwing it away.  Who would've thought it would be so crappy?  I mean I purchased it at the Dollar Tree!  Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WD60pa8LlmA/TbhuazL7ENI/AAAAAAAABO8/OuTYFvHThuE/s400/100_1113.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These are magnets on our fridge.  They decorated Easter eggs all month long!&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A711JdxX-ys/Tbhub7Nq07I/AAAAAAAABPM/5beSncBbBuM/s400/100_1119.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course I had to have Easter eggs lights.  :)  I love that "Easter Tree", another Dollar Tree decoration that might be my new favorite!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay yes I admit, I LOVE the Dollar Tree!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-j9bDpq52nGk/TbhubbpwkaI/AAAAAAAABPE/j1eOFW9-TI0/s400/100_1115.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And lastly, our window stickers (and our dead grass in the background).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like to decorate while the boys are at school, then see their faces when they walk in the house and notice all the fun things!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year we traveled to Josh's hometown to celebrate Easter with his family.  Have I mentioned how much I love his family?  I think I have but I'll say it again, I LOVE THEM!  His mom just always makes us feel so welcome.  She doesn't freak out when the boys mess up her yard, track dirt on her carpet or on her couches, or spill their milk, etc.  She never makes us feel uncomfortable or like our boys are out of control!  It's just so relaxing to be in her home.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_EpfHo0-HN4/TbhzgleS-4I/AAAAAAAABQc/m_N6FjzRZnE/s400/100_1203.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Friday we took the boys on a hike to 49Palms, there's an oasis at the end of the hike.  It was 3 miles round trip.  I had done this hike about 10 years ago and thought the kids could handle it.  We thought if we started early enough it wouldn't be too hot, but it was still pretty dang hot!  The boys did awesome though.  They hiked the whole way!  Well, Samuel hiked the whole way there and then made me carry him about halfway back.  He wouldn't let ANYONE else carry him, only me.  If anyone else tried, he sat down and refused to move or would kick and scream.  Yeah...let's just say I was VERY sore the next couple of days!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, along the way we saw a bunch of lizards, chuckwallas, and even 2 rattlesnakes on the trail!  One was even rattling at us.  It was a little freaky.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bsN69EO2-Ns/TbhyeVqf_WI/AAAAAAAABPs/pd6K1fKg7mg/s200/ChuckwallaFromBehind.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-23VdIVzVlJ4/TbhyeCafOjI/AAAAAAAABPk/p_awP8MLDss/s200/rattlesnake.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We survived though.  There wasn't much water at the "oasis".  It was pretty though!  I tried to get the boys to count the palm trees to see if there really were 49 of them.  They had better things to do though.  Like eat their fruit snacks and drink their Capri Suns!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LAFwiytWeQQ/Tbhy7KJXD2I/AAAAAAAABP0/oF3QOwHYNRo/s400/100_1196.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys' Great-Grandpa Reed and Grandma Adeline put on an awesome Easter egg hunt on Saturday for family and some friends from their ward.  It was crazy windy all day and we were worried there would be a lot of dust flying around (there's not much grass in 29Palms, California!) but the wind stopped just in time for our hunt!  There must've been at least 500 eggs out there.  Trey even found an egg from last year's hunt!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D-roQjQ_exQ/Tbhzeff-PWI/AAAAAAAABP8/aTkFeJE4dvU/s400/100_1197.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jUh6i1QGsrQ/Tbhze0FnVqI/AAAAAAAABQE/TrntvZZXu7Q/s400/100_1199.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the hunt we relaxed with hot dogs, chips, potato salad, cupcakes, and family!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wYHsy9lXO2g/TbhzgOYSFGI/AAAAAAAABQU/qckQRtY9XI8/s400/100_1218.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-42t3LBcnf0Y/Tbh0vKSUakI/AAAAAAAABQ0/MOfvLuOqiiE/s400/100_1214.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--N8Iza0yA98/Tbh0urq6l2I/AAAAAAAABQs/HHCtV-__WnE/s400/100_1211.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bR0E0MxhdhI/Tbh0uCkUbhI/AAAAAAAABQk/ZjKR_KRa00g/s400/100_1210.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day was Easter Sunday.  Luckily the Easter Bunny found us.  I have to say, that good ole Easter Bunny outdid himself this year!  The boys forgot their baskets so they got these new awesome ones, and they were jam packed with fun things.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QuayWp_qkOk/TbhzfpA_qPI/AAAAAAAABQM/ze6SEZR2UQ0/s400/100_1219.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WmDkQRrIdc4/Tbh0vloMouI/AAAAAAAABRE/6IuaggtzGz4/s400/100_1245.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yTPWf-cacYA/Tbh0vTDLLTI/AAAAAAAABQ8/Pd8Ljle9S5M/s400/100_1228.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That little chick Trey was holding was a HUGE fan favorite!  Trey got the chick, J.J. a pig, and Samuel a cow.  These weren't just any farm animals though...you pushed on them, they made their animal noise...and POOPED out a candy for you!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hope everybody had as great an Easter as we did!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3046459309002696661?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3046459309002696661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3046459309002696661&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3046459309002696661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3046459309002696661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter.html' title='Easter!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xBfYfoEGbiQ/Tbhucoa7nEI/AAAAAAAABPc/2Z0t3ooz0iA/s72-c/100_1121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-180936308114638964</id><published>2011-04-26T21:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T22:03:35.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 43</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 43 - A picture of something you can’t function without.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;This is...the internet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C_A_mGWFkdI/Tbei6LZp4UI/AAAAAAAABO0/D-xmX3cgaJ0/s400/internet.gif" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;If for some reason our internet is down, I go crazy.  I can't survive without it anymore.  Not only is it the way I make money, it is the way I communicate with family and friends, and the way I research EVERY SINGLE THING that comes to my mind.  When I don't know &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; answer to any question my kids ask me, they say, "Mommy, can you Google it?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-180936308114638964?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/180936308114638964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=180936308114638964&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/180936308114638964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/180936308114638964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-43.html' title='Day 43'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C_A_mGWFkdI/Tbei6LZp4UI/AAAAAAAABO0/D-xmX3cgaJ0/s72-c/internet.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2223308663141758704</id><published>2011-04-20T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T21:25:11.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 42</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 42 - A picture of your dream house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I googled "dream house in the mountains" and this is what showed up:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXnWS38Q9I4/Ta-w10NPfkI/AAAAAAAABOk/codSZnDTo0o/s400/1283354212jxEy2Q.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yes please!  Except I'd like more trees...but I guess I can't be too picky right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2223308663141758704?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2223308663141758704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2223308663141758704&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2223308663141758704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2223308663141758704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-42.html' title='Day 42'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NXnWS38Q9I4/Ta-w10NPfkI/AAAAAAAABOk/codSZnDTo0o/s72-c/1283354212jxEy2Q.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2978031085387207192</id><published>2011-04-20T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T14:18:16.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Dear son,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I would just like to let you know that this scenario...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3L0BfFiVlIE/Ta9MqQ3nMCI/AAAAAAAABOc/lENz-rRo8W0/s400/100_1176.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;will NEVER HAPPEN.  If you get thrown in the slammer, your dad and I are leaving you there. Are we clear on that?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love always, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mommy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2978031085387207192?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2978031085387207192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2978031085387207192&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2978031085387207192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2978031085387207192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/tough-love.html' title='Tough Love'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3L0BfFiVlIE/Ta9MqQ3nMCI/AAAAAAAABOc/lENz-rRo8W0/s72-c/100_1176.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1293319115280742647</id><published>2011-04-19T13:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T13:27:05.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 41</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 41 - A picture of your pet.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Okay, here's the BEST pet ever!  Isn't it so cute?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yes, it's the easiest pet to take care of!  It never requires food, it never poops or pees on my carpet or chew up my furniture or walls or doors!  It doesn't stink and it doesn't require attention.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;(Nope, you're not blind.  I don't have a pet and hopefully never will.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1293319115280742647?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1293319115280742647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1293319115280742647&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1293319115280742647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1293319115280742647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-41.html' title='Day 41'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4049040719977695953</id><published>2011-04-16T11:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-16T11:21:21.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 40</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 40 - A picture of your favorite Disney character.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;MULAN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aEa2dbVDeWY/TaneBXdX6XI/AAAAAAAABOU/lbJjsoQlUxw/s400/592058.gif" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;She pretty much kicks butt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4049040719977695953?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4049040719977695953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4049040719977695953&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4049040719977695953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4049040719977695953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-40.html' title='Day 40'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aEa2dbVDeWY/TaneBXdX6XI/AAAAAAAABOU/lbJjsoQlUxw/s72-c/592058.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2654973123982143162</id><published>2011-04-14T21:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T21:45:02.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 39</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 39 - A picture of your favorite movie.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;I haven't forgotten about the challenge, just been swamped with work and baseball!  Both J.J. and Trey are playing right now and we're pretty much living and breathing baseball lately.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Okay, favorite movie.  A Facebook friend and I were discussing our mutual love of "Tommy Boy" the other day.  I really love that movie!  I'm almost &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;guaranteed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; to laugh until I cry when I watch it.  Plus, when Trey was a baby he looked a lot like Chris Farley.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;But I do have to say that I LOVE this movie:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v5kIHxL1hNM/TafMuEdmvSI/AAAAAAAABOM/qi5Ers5W0eE/s400/walk-the-line.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;Normally I don't like stories where there's any kind of infidelity going on but I do like this movie.  Maybe because I love Reese Witherspoon and I love Joaquin Phoenix.  Does anyone else find him extremely attractive?  'Cause I do!  And I think he's an insanely talented actor.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2654973123982143162?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2654973123982143162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2654973123982143162&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2654973123982143162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2654973123982143162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-39.html' title='Day 39'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-v5kIHxL1hNM/TafMuEdmvSI/AAAAAAAABOM/qi5Ers5W0eE/s72-c/walk-the-line.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2917319573199047029</id><published>2011-04-13T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T13:40:10.716-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cinnamon Toast</title><content type='html'>Trey: "Mommy, I love you more than cinnamon toast."&lt;div&gt;Me:  "Aw, I love you too Trey!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trey:  "You know why?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  "Why?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trey:  "Because you won't wash my mouth out with soap."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  "Oh..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Trey:  "Mommy?  What will happen if I say a bad word on accident?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;Oh Trey Trey Trey...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2917319573199047029?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2917319573199047029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2917319573199047029&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2917319573199047029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2917319573199047029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/cinnamon-toast.html' title='Cinnamon Toast'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7999840256480970907</id><published>2011-04-08T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-08T11:14:33.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 38</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 38 - A picture of the best part of your day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;The best part of my day is actually the best part of Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at this time:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03KV5I7e15A/TZ9PMfO_ZiI/AAAAAAAABNs/CU07USdee5w/s400/100_1163.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Why you ask?  Because that is when all 3 of my boys are at school, and I finally have time to turn this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yk-YrPb_aYs/TZ9PMjTR_6I/AAAAAAAABN0/XQ9qZeQ8UaE/s400/100_1162.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Into this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZNYHbTg1a-s/TZ9PM9y44WI/AAAAAAAABN8/OGI8oGpp9_M/s400/100_1164.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Yes, today it took me until this time:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-L2Paw19O_wY/TZ9PNfZnCkI/AAAAAAAABOE/3veyV4QrgeI/s400/100_1165.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;To accomplish this amazing feat.  I put away stuff, vacuumed, swept, mopped, did the dishes, laundry, etc.  And now...it's time to go get Trey from school.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;I actually enjoy cleaning though!  Yes, I know I'm strange.  With the house to myself I blasted first AFI, then some good ole CCR (a fellow blog friend quoted it and now it's been in my head since yesterday) and I got as much cleaning accomplished as I possibly could while I don't have 3 tornadoes leaving trails of destruction faster than I can clean them!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-7999840256480970907?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7999840256480970907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7999840256480970907&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7999840256480970907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7999840256480970907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-38.html' title='Day 38'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-03KV5I7e15A/TZ9PMfO_ZiI/AAAAAAAABNs/CU07USdee5w/s72-c/100_1163.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4080062127820304824</id><published>2011-04-06T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T21:49:32.685-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 37</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 37 - A picture of the people you spend most of your time with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Yup, I've definitely fallen behind on this but I refuse to give up!  After all, thanks to this challenge I've already blogged more in the past month than I did all last year!    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Okay, this is a no-brainer.  Obviously the people I spend the most time with are these guys:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-klquXU3jMj4/TZ0_OJpLVfI/AAAAAAAABNk/CcopgZ7PQqY/s400/DSCF4677.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;This is probably one of my MOST favorite pictures of all time.  I just love my boys!  The ONE question I am asked the most is, "Aren't you going to try for a girl?"  As if my life is not complete until I have had a daughter?  Or else implying that I need to have children of both genders before I'm done having kids!  But the truth is, I love having all boys.  Not that I wouldn't have loved a daughter if I had had one, of course I would have!  I would have loved her just as much as I would have loved boy #4, boy #5, or however many boys I would have been blessed with had I kept on popping babies out!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I am VERY happy with my 3 sons though.  And the husband guy is pretty awesome too.  Yes, there's a lot of testosterone flying around my house.  It's nearly impossible to keep my house as clean as I would like it to be.  There's a lot of toilet seats left up, and lots of rough-housing taking place.  Yes, I am afraid my house is going to smell like teenaged boy someday, and that they will eat me out of house and home.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;But I'm of the opinion that there really is nothing like a little boy's love for his Mommy!  I soak it up with the handful of flowers (weeds) J.J. brings home for me everyday after school.  I soak it up when Trey tells me he loves my smile and that I'm beautiful.  I soak it up when Samuel, who doesn't speak much to begin with, asked for a "big hug" from his Mommy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;As cheesy as this sounds, I'm honored that I get to spend most of my time with these boys.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4080062127820304824?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4080062127820304824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4080062127820304824&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4080062127820304824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4080062127820304824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-37.html' title='Day 37'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-klquXU3jMj4/TZ0_OJpLVfI/AAAAAAAABNk/CcopgZ7PQqY/s72-c/DSCF4677.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5081101956164342983</id><published>2011-04-03T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T20:45:30.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 36</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 36 - A picture of your ‘other half'.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well OF COURSE this has to be the husband right?  I love this guy.  And what better day to do this post than on his birthday right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sAFtYPpkyqA/TZk-nLMA6AI/AAAAAAAABNc/8v3_Lrgbn2I/s400/100_0448.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Happy birthday Josh!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5081101956164342983?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5081101956164342983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5081101956164342983&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5081101956164342983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5081101956164342983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/day-36.html' title='Day 36'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sAFtYPpkyqA/TZk-nLMA6AI/AAAAAAAABNc/8v3_Lrgbn2I/s72-c/100_0448.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6666330043069968338</id><published>2011-04-01T15:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T16:10:39.500-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April Fools!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;A friend of mine gave me this &lt;a href="http://little-inspirations.blogspot.com/2011/03/april-fools-cupcakes.html"&gt;link&lt;/a&gt; for some April Fools ideas, and I had to try one of them out on my boys!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really wanted to do the spaghetti and meatballs idea, but didn't have all the stuff/time to do it.  So I did the mashed potato idea instead.  They turned out pretty cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7pJpKKII5No/TZZPlrhyNfI/AAAAAAAABNU/ZIzxtWGjPd0/s400/100_1136.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think I really fooled J.J., but Trey looked pretty confused.  After they figured out it was really vanilla frosting, a yellow Starburst, and caramel syrup they were all smiles!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sB8FNdSqFKg/TZZPlKV3k5I/AAAAAAAABNM/Gy0FD6h7DZU/s400/100_1135.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dang, Blogger is being stupid and I can't post the video I took.  Well, if you're my Facebook friend you can check it out there.  :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6666330043069968338?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6666330043069968338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6666330043069968338&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6666330043069968338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6666330043069968338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/04/april-fools.html' title='April Fools!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7pJpKKII5No/TZZPlrhyNfI/AAAAAAAABNU/ZIzxtWGjPd0/s72-c/100_1136.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7072544081997647070</id><published>2011-03-31T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T21:55:24.768-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 35</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 35 - A picture of your favorite place to eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Honestly?  Any place as long as I don't have to cook or clean up!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;However there is one place that immediately came to mind, and that is...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DMq5UWIHtvg/TZVZ9bDArMI/AAAAAAAABM8/FDC_XpgkQc4/s400/wendy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I love me some Wendy's.  Especially these two items:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NsyzaPhZBWs/TZVZ9gDOKRI/AAAAAAAABNE/vuMYqkyzvww/s400/wendys-free-jr-frosty.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Yup, I'm a dip-my-fries-in-the-frosty kind of gal.  YUM!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;And as you can see I am clearly NOT a high maintenance girl.  I could've chosen any number of restaurants, REAL restaurants where you actually sit down and have a server.  But no, the first place I thought of was a fast food joint and my two favorite items come off the dollar menu.  Yup, I'm classy.&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/3760782692935972587-7072544081997647070?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7072544081997647070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7072544081997647070&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7072544081997647070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7072544081997647070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-35.html' title='Day 35'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DMq5UWIHtvg/TZVZ9bDArMI/AAAAAAAABM8/FDC_XpgkQc4/s72-c/wendy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7606652121093179184</id><published>2011-03-30T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T08:01:37.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 34</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 34 - A picture of your currently most played CD.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I don't really listen to CD's very much anymore since getting an MP3 player.  I'm not really sure what's my most currently played one.  I do know the one I've probably played the most over the years! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o4Dxs7SBHXQ/TZNDrIJWU1I/AAAAAAAABM0/aXjOJwNpzQk/s400/journey.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I love me some Journey.  You just can't go wrong when you slide this into your CD player!  &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/3760782692935972587-7606652121093179184?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7606652121093179184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7606652121093179184&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7606652121093179184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7606652121093179184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-34.html' title='Day 34'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o4Dxs7SBHXQ/TZNDrIJWU1I/AAAAAAAABM0/aXjOJwNpzQk/s72-c/journey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5465098226305480442</id><published>2011-03-29T09:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T09:58:26.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Story Hour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My son brought this home from school and I feel the need to share it with the world.  And I'll forgive the spelling errors and missing letters because he's 7.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jbn1LShpmR8/TZIPcO3uqvI/AAAAAAAABMk/MgQhEbXw09s/s400/100_1100.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--r6E4iC2k3M/TZIPclaR-hI/AAAAAAAABMs/fSHPKyW8mPU/s400/100_1102.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5465098226305480442?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5465098226305480442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5465098226305480442&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5465098226305480442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5465098226305480442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/story-hour.html' title='Story Hour'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jbn1LShpmR8/TZIPcO3uqvI/AAAAAAAABMk/MgQhEbXw09s/s72-c/100_1100.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7638432731203452370</id><published>2011-03-29T09:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-29T09:50:09.322-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 33</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 33 - A picture of the house you grew up in.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dangit&lt;/span&gt;, I was over by that neighborhood yesterday and didn't think to drive by and take a pic!  Although the people who bought it haven't really kept it up as nicely as my parents did...so maybe that's for the best.  I tried to look it up on Google maps but the picture they have is really bad, you can't even really see it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;So I'll leave you with this.  Once again, a picture of a picture.  This is circa 1995, I'm looking super dorky and so is my brother.  Luckily the picture is such bad quality you can't see our dorky faces.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dIJc4x812dI/TZIMhbsgncI/AAAAAAAABMU/2_JC2nB7k48/s400/100_1122.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;So that was the house I lived in for 9 years, the longest I've ever lived anywhere!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Then the year before I graduated, my parents built a new house and sadly, I only lived in it 1.5 years.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m1LBA6CA6qA/TZIMhsPSGBI/AAAAAAAABMc/VZwTK9PM_3M/s400/100_1124.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;(that's my college roommate out front, she came to visit)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;But when I dream about my growing up years, I always dream of that old house.  That's where all my memories are.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-7638432731203452370?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7638432731203452370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7638432731203452370&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7638432731203452370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7638432731203452370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-33.html' title='Day 33'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dIJc4x812dI/TZIMhbsgncI/AAAAAAAABMU/2_JC2nB7k48/s72-c/100_1122.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7385832048000657010</id><published>2011-03-27T17:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-27T17:14:50.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 32</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 32 - A picture of a crazy night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Okay I kinda got off track for a few days and rather than do 4 catch up posts, I'm just going to keep going with one post a day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;I had a lot of crazy nights in college, here's one of them.  Staying up all night to study for our Physical Science test!  Since I went to BYU there was no caffeinated beverages sold on campus so we had to walk from our dorms to the nearest gas station for some decent soda.  Pretty wild right?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iqYXxwji-f4/TY_SWDvQA1I/AAAAAAAABMM/w03B-aKbHhs/s400/Christy6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-7385832048000657010?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7385832048000657010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7385832048000657010&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7385832048000657010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7385832048000657010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-32.html' title='Day 32'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iqYXxwji-f4/TY_SWDvQA1I/AAAAAAAABMM/w03B-aKbHhs/s72-c/Christy6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1264557088236244567</id><published>2011-03-24T14:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T16:01:41.763-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 31</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 31 - A picture of a tradition you have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I think we've seen plenty of pictures of our traditions!  We like to make the most of every holiday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;But one tradition that I do every day is I sit outside and wait for J.J.'s bus after school.  Sometimes I wonder if he would prefer I don't wait for him (and I'm sure when he's older it will come to that) but he actually told me he looks for me to be sitting in front of our house waiting for him to come home.  So today I took a picture of what I wait for every day:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7udnyfprShE/TYvMbVaajoI/AAAAAAAABL0/iG7dPVzlBmU/s400/100_1103.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Isn't he just the cutest thing?  And lately he's been coming home with these for me:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Sel-WkFSZqE/TYvMb83rn7I/AAAAAAAABL8/QbDg7bdxsRE/s400/100_1106.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I have a fresh bouquet of them every day!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cTjfyi-LBbE/TYvMbBP1WsI/AAAAAAAABLs/Zn92Nb5OHos/s400/100_1096.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Trey waits for J.J. too.  The two of them have lots of stories to catch up on from their day apart, and lots of arguing to do too.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jj0dhm2q-5g/TYvMcTeD7AI/AAAAAAAABME/VFoePMW8DVw/s400/100_1107.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1264557088236244567?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1264557088236244567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1264557088236244567&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1264557088236244567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1264557088236244567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-31.html' title='Day 31'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7udnyfprShE/TYvMbVaajoI/AAAAAAAABL0/iG7dPVzlBmU/s72-c/100_1103.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4354183924552970102</id><published>2011-03-23T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-24T14:07:36.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 30</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 30 - A picture of someone you miss.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm not really sure who I miss.  Thanks to the Internet, and Facebook in particular, I have pretty much reconnected with every single person I've ever known in my life!  Including friends from 1st grade, my 3rd grade teacher, girls I met at EFY, my old piano teacher, high school acquaintances, past boyfriends, college friends, etc.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Who is there left to miss?  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;So I'm going to get creative here and say I miss these people:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IaJejgWRlRA/TYux5ULAc0I/AAAAAAAABLc/FKeNcn7Rm3g/s400/CCI12192009_00006%2Bcopy%2B3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iWDrDbA3ucM/TYux5RUsLUI/AAAAAAAABLU/DdPbJQs_At4/s400/CCI12192009_00005%2Bcopy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Aw...look at how cute we were.  So young (seriously, we look like we're 12 years old), so innocent!  We weren't even married yet and had no idea what the future held for us and we didn't seem to care.  No kids, no mortgage, nothing!  Our biggest problems were deciding where to go eat and what movie to see.  Aw...I miss this carefree couple!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4354183924552970102?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4354183924552970102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4354183924552970102&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4354183924552970102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4354183924552970102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-30.html' title='Day 30'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IaJejgWRlRA/TYux5ULAc0I/AAAAAAAABLc/FKeNcn7Rm3g/s72-c/CCI12192009_00006%2Bcopy%2B3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6802815616167407791</id><published>2011-03-23T18:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T19:01:25.851-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 29</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 29 - A picture that can always make you smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;The first picture I ever took of all 3 of my boys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r9PJbCJbyb0/TYqlpIgMuXI/AAAAAAAABLM/vRMK9Ip-JNk/s400/DSCF3810.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Samuel was one week old, Trey 2.5 years old, and J.J. was 4 years old.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6802815616167407791?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6802815616167407791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6802815616167407791&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6802815616167407791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6802815616167407791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-29.html' title='Day 29'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r9PJbCJbyb0/TYqlpIgMuXI/AAAAAAAABLM/vRMK9Ip-JNk/s72-c/DSCF3810.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-9216847306992507781</id><published>2011-03-23T18:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T18:46:40.431-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 28</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 28 - A picture of something you're afraid of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I think I've fallen 3 days behind for one simple reason.  I am afraid to post the picture of what I'm afraid of.  So instead I will take the coward's way out and post a cartoon picture.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3LXikx5gHOE/TYqiCY3j-pI/AAAAAAAABLE/329OugOR3-k/s400/istockphoto_9573535-cartoon-bugs.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Seriously, I'm deathly afraid of all bugs.  It's the kind of fear where my heart feels like it's going to beat out of my chest and I can't breathe kind of fear.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-9216847306992507781?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/9216847306992507781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=9216847306992507781&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/9216847306992507781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/9216847306992507781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-28.html' title='Day 28'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3LXikx5gHOE/TYqiCY3j-pI/AAAAAAAABLE/329OugOR3-k/s72-c/istockphoto_9573535-cartoon-bugs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7147326833476294967</id><published>2011-03-20T20:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T20:30:30.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 27</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 27 - A picture of yourself and a family member.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Okay, once again we have another poor quality picture of a picture on display.  This is me about 12-13 years ago with my Grandma!  Let's not talk about how chunky I look, instead let's focus on the fact that my hair is awesome.  I miss it!  Sadly I do not have the patience to grow it out again.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0fY7lURcxMI/TYbGKFgqF4I/AAAAAAAABK8/Shsow1fIHaA/s400/102_2783.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;My grandma is awesome.  She's been on a several missions for our church (I lost count after like 7) and can speak several different languages.  She can sew like a pro (hey that rhymed!).  She is now in her 80's, has had 2 hip replacements, and still extremely active!  I hope I'm that active when I'm her age.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Anyway, I love my grandma and I hope I get to see her soon!&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/3760782692935972587-7147326833476294967?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7147326833476294967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7147326833476294967&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7147326833476294967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7147326833476294967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-27.html' title='Day 27'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0fY7lURcxMI/TYbGKFgqF4I/AAAAAAAABK8/Shsow1fIHaA/s72-c/102_2783.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-327214376285318630</id><published>2011-03-20T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-20T20:01:35.928-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 26</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 26 - A picture of something that means a lot to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PpFfHYIUxwI/TYa_QaupXMI/AAAAAAAABKs/V11Brh8kmNs/s400/101_0931.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I love my boys.  They mean everything to me and I can't imagine my life without them.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-327214376285318630?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/327214376285318630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=327214376285318630&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/327214376285318630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/327214376285318630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-26.html' title='Day 26'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PpFfHYIUxwI/TYa_QaupXMI/AAAAAAAABKs/V11Brh8kmNs/s72-c/101_0931.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5542699230485899848</id><published>2011-03-19T19:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T19:57:18.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Moon!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A &lt;a href="http://joannegooding.blogspot.com/"&gt;fellow blogger&lt;/a&gt; mentioned that tonight there would be a "super moon".  I wanted to make sure to look at it but then forgot about it throughout the course of the day.  We were picking up pizza for dinner and turned a corner and BAM, there it was!  It's huge!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F4IcKo_UF_Q/TYVsyQFxuuI/AAAAAAAABKk/UKrCEfPZado/s400/100_1082.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The picture is crappy and it's not like you can tell it's bigger than normal but just trust me, it was pretty cool to see!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5542699230485899848?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5542699230485899848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5542699230485899848&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5542699230485899848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5542699230485899848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/super-moon.html' title='Super Moon!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-F4IcKo_UF_Q/TYVsyQFxuuI/AAAAAAAABKk/UKrCEfPZado/s72-c/100_1082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6600023364749061906</id><published>2011-03-19T17:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T17:42:15.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doin' it up right!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Yes, another holiday that we make a big deal of here in the Larsen household!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First we get dressed in all green of course.  Wouldn't want to get pinched now would we?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oops, I think we're missing one!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kK-n5TRBIzg/TYVLmipRsII/AAAAAAAABKE/dG4oXSm8xRo/s400/100_1073.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, there he is!  The little lephrechans enjoyed a breakfast of green waffles, and green milk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-37FpoLSOup4/TYVLm015E6I/AAAAAAAABKM/mtZjKIbRXuw/s400/100_1075.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even Mommy had to make sure she showed her true St. Patty's Day spirit.  Luckily, I discovered I had green nail polish!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lu_jofJi_CE/TYVLnMxnL9I/AAAAAAAABKU/q7UmCqfFam0/s400/100_1076.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And...green hair spray!  I tried to get the boys to do it but they wouldn't!  So I told them Mommy was gonna do it and they wouldn't believe me.  Well of course, I had to prove how cool their mom was right?  I thought if I did it, they would want to join in.  NOPE!  Instead J.J. asked me if I would put a hat on it when we had to go run some errands.  haha!  Can you believe I ran all over town like this and NOBODY commented on it all day?  Not until J.J.'s baseball practice that evening did another mother tell me she liked it!  Makes me want to do more outlandish things with my appearance just to see waht I can get away with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CUixiLGjZcI/TYVLnfKgDwI/AAAAAAAABKc/SW8lXsJZ2X4/s400/100_1081.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unfortunately I forgot to take pictures of my shamrock lights I had up in our family room, the window stickers with clovers, a rainbow, and a pot of gold, and the "Ireland" sign I had hanging up in our kitchen.  Oh well, there's always next year!  The green food continued at lunch with green applesauce.  I was going to make potato soup for dinner and dye it green but...I ran out of green food coloring!  I used the rest when I made these babies.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HmVUaDY4yHM/TYVLmTbQfKI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ydnwyK0V1Cs/s400/000_0032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yes, green velvet cupcakes!  They were delish.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Saint Patrick's Day!&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6600023364749061906?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6600023364749061906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6600023364749061906&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6600023364749061906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6600023364749061906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/doin-it-up-right.html' title='Doin&apos; it up right!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kK-n5TRBIzg/TYVLmipRsII/AAAAAAAABKE/dG4oXSm8xRo/s72-c/100_1073.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3081633658365222336</id><published>2011-03-19T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T09:52:02.655-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 25</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 25 - A picture of your day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, I'm playing catch up here so this was supposed to be yesterday's post.  Yesterday involved a lot of cleaning, grocery shopping, babysitting my neighbor's kids, and a sisters' night (complete with cookie dough and the movie "Selena").  However, I don't have pictures of any of that!  So I'll entertain you with pictures of today instead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Josh and Trey are visiting family in Cali this weekend so it's just me, my oldest, and youngest boys!  Having one child gone sure changes the entire sibling dynamic of a family.  The boys woke up missing their Daddy and brother.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;J.J. talked with them on the phone:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FXRDAT2DLcM/TYTdPGQLgEI/AAAAAAAABJE/5K2qcrRfj50/s320/000_0033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;And Samuel kept looking for them out the front door:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kPKwt7xxa6o/TYTdnPuhhII/AAAAAAAABJs/NXaPFTPsAr0/s320/000_0035.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;There's a lot of playing with Little People going on:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-94KaLrrDalE/TYTdPciYzuI/AAAAAAAABJM/YYZrrXLbMAo/s320/000_0039.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R950R3YSHI0/TYTdPlXAg5I/AAAAAAAABJU/8EPbvR_8vLQ/s320/000_0040.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I have a couple errands to run, maybe some yard work to do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I also need to fold laundry.  This is about half of what I will be folding today:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GLOZS3-GQBI/TYTdQJR1hvI/AAAAAAAABJc/eKvqUWXuWDg/s320/000_0041.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then I still need to finish my paying work:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EJYGssqz8is/TYTdQf7dTyI/AAAAAAAABJk/Pp61bbwlvKI/s320/000_0042.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Don't worry, I still have some fun things planned!  Like a hot date with this cutie:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xYH2KBS77wY/TYTdnxbZgrI/AAAAAAAABJ0/ch2gfWmxm_g/s320/000_0043.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;We're going to stay up late, watch Star Wars, and eat junk food!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3081633658365222336?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3081633658365222336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3081633658365222336&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3081633658365222336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3081633658365222336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-25.html' title='Day 25'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FXRDAT2DLcM/TYTdPGQLgEI/AAAAAAAABJE/5K2qcrRfj50/s72-c/000_0033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8395494886011102732</id><published>2011-03-19T09:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-19T09:27:18.997-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 24</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 24 - A picture of something you wish you could change.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I would like to change from living in this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-82IFPM_29JM/TYTY9PVb7BI/AAAAAAAABI8/JlZCoIiCST4/s400/desert.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;To living in something more like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QiNlHQqA4nk/TYTY890Z7lI/AAAAAAAABI0/oW0LDaGhcic/s400/rockymtn.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Somewhere with four seasons, the color green, majestic mountains, and trees.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Please?&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/3760782692935972587-8395494886011102732?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8395494886011102732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8395494886011102732&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8395494886011102732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8395494886011102732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-24.html' title='Day 24'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-82IFPM_29JM/TYTY9PVb7BI/AAAAAAAABI8/JlZCoIiCST4/s72-c/desert.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-714753859295127888</id><published>2011-03-16T16:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T16:55:11.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 23</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 23 - A picture of your favorite book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;One of my favorite things to do is read!  I'm even named after a book my mom was reading while pregnant with me.  I've read it and it's pretty good, if I do say so myself.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ELD4PBa_sMA/TYFNbKtXW2I/AAAAAAAABIs/FT-D4rAY7H4/s400/christy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Anyway, it's hard to narrow all the books I've read down to a "favorite".  But I can say that I don't think I've ever been so engrossed in a story as I was with this series:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9yC8rF3kn_g/TYFMc-NzogI/AAAAAAAABIk/JWn3OOj3MvM/s400/The%2BHunger%2BGames%2BSeries.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;I could NOT put these books down once I started reading.  I thought about them when I didn't have time to read, I even dreamed about them (some seriously messed up dreams BTW)!  I heard they are making a movie based on the series and I'm excited/nervous about this.  I actually liked the Twilight books until they made the movies.  Now I can't get the horrible acting/ugly actors out of my head.  I'm not saying that Twilight was fine literature, because it most definitely was NOT.  I enjoyed the story though until they made the movies.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;So I'm afraid of what the big screen is going to do to this series.  Nothing will ever compare to what I've imagined in my head!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-714753859295127888?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/714753859295127888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=714753859295127888&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/714753859295127888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/714753859295127888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-23.html' title='Day 23'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ELD4PBa_sMA/TYFNbKtXW2I/AAAAAAAABIs/FT-D4rAY7H4/s72-c/christy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-9166989529599736769</id><published>2011-03-15T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T17:02:47.934-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 22</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 22 - A picture of something you wish you were better at.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oh boy, where do I begin?!  With this being Spring Break, and all 3 of my boys home from school, and me still having to work...I would say without hesitation I wish I were better at being PATIENT.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;With that, I leave you with this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T-UChEdeCqY/TX_9-JBcnvI/AAAAAAAABIc/L0Nyj9STD8Y/s400/demotivational-posters-patience1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I laughed pretty hard at this, and I needed it today!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-9166989529599736769?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/9166989529599736769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=9166989529599736769&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/9166989529599736769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/9166989529599736769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-22.html' title='Day 22'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T-UChEdeCqY/TX_9-JBcnvI/AAAAAAAABIc/L0Nyj9STD8Y/s72-c/demotivational-posters-patience1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-186621732618188074</id><published>2011-03-14T21:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T22:15:32.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 21</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 21 - A picture of something you wish you could forget.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;There are a lot of things I wish I could forget.  A lot of past mistakes, past experiences, past memories, past relationships, etc.  But I can't put a picture of anything like that on here.  Because people in my "real life" might just look at this blog.  The internet isn't private.  It's not a place to share personal things you would never want other people to know...although maybe people seem to think that's what Facebook is for some odd reason.  That's a different post for another day!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;So I'm going to put a picture of something that is ALWAYS on my mind, and I wish I could just forget and not worry about it for just one day.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ry0bTqik5Nk/TX7z1lyUXQI/AAAAAAAABIU/6qycQkfK1WM/s320/k2398022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Seriously, it's always on my mind.  I think most people would be amazed to find out the amount of money we manage to live on.  It requires A LOT of very careful planning and yes, sacrifice.  Somehow, we manage to make it work though!  Who cares if we only see one or two movies in the movie theater a year?  Who cares if we never go out to eat as a family?  Who cares if we don't have cable TV?  Who cares if Mommy goes an entire year without a haircut!  (Just kidding...that has nothing to do with not having enough money and more to do with Mommy being lazy.)  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Anyway, my point is, I'd like to just forget about it for one day and not stress about it!  Is that too much to ask?  Apparently it is.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-186621732618188074?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/186621732618188074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=186621732618188074&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/186621732618188074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/186621732618188074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-21.html' title='Day 21'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ry0bTqik5Nk/TX7z1lyUXQI/AAAAAAAABIU/6qycQkfK1WM/s72-c/k2398022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-751019038964789695</id><published>2011-03-14T12:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T12:27:01.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 20</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 20 - A picture of somewhere you'd love to travel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;This is easy, England, Ireland, and Scotland.  I would love to see all the castles, how GREEN it is, learn more about the history, etc.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EsBPPQv0EcA/TX5rZ5bcqwI/AAAAAAAABIE/SxEc3rszTm4/s320/ireland-spring-break.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1cqoFunlyaU/TX5rZq1znVI/AAAAAAAABH8/GZYLxD0gy8Q/s320/52158537_7a24d5bab6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jjqn6_hE0UQ/TX5r442pmgI/AAAAAAAABIM/RObSFks4eaU/s320/Scotland%2BCastle.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-751019038964789695?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/751019038964789695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=751019038964789695&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/751019038964789695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/751019038964789695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-20.html' title='Day 20'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EsBPPQv0EcA/TX5rZ5bcqwI/AAAAAAAABIE/SxEc3rszTm4/s72-c/ireland-spring-break.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2987251624111125792</id><published>2011-03-14T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T12:16:20.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 19</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 19 - A picture of you when you were little.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I just love this picture because my mom looks so happy!  Plus it's just pure 70's awesomeness.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-949UtUzCjNU/TX5pKRRRAXI/AAAAAAAABH0/EqB_52nImJw/s400/101_1055-2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;It's another picture of a picture, because I STILL don't know how to use my scanner.  &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/3760782692935972587-2987251624111125792?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2987251624111125792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2987251624111125792&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2987251624111125792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2987251624111125792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-19.html' title='Day 19'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-949UtUzCjNU/TX5pKRRRAXI/AAAAAAAABH0/EqB_52nImJw/s72-c/101_1055-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6968130713052654498</id><published>2011-03-11T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T20:29:33.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 18</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 18 - A picture of your biggest insecurity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Again, first obvious choice would be my stomach.  Let's just say, it ain't pretty folks.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;But I'll go with another one that is harder to conceal.  My neck.  Or rather, LACK of neck.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qo49aXn9NUo/TXr2OqdVXrI/AAAAAAAABHs/FbCi_ziew6E/s320/noneck.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Obviously this is not a picture of me.  Because if I ever see a picture of myself showing my neck, I immediately delete it.  But this is exactly what my neck looks like.  It's not a neck.  It's a slope.  It's gross.  I hate it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6968130713052654498?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6968130713052654498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6968130713052654498&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6968130713052654498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6968130713052654498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-18.html' title='Day 18'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qo49aXn9NUo/TXr2OqdVXrI/AAAAAAAABHs/FbCi_ziew6E/s72-c/noneck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8348751450291257147</id><published>2011-03-11T11:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T12:06:27.587-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you spot it?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Sometimes living with boys can just be...well...DIRTY.  They forget to flush the toilet, they love to talk about bodily functions, they pick their noses, they leave their clothes all over the house, I could go on and on.  On one occasion I even had one child get out of the car in a public parking lot, unzip his pants, and PEE right there.  (And there was a bathroom 100 feet away that I had told him to wait for.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not going to lie, it frustrates me to no end!  We're constantly having conversations on such foreign topics as "manners" and "being polite".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today though, I saw this and all I could do was laugh.  And take a picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you see it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duE5-Jg2X2w/TXp_95ctd-I/AAAAAAAABHk/YcPWnS1PdYU/s400/101_1049.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How about now?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Go0bfcLJlgo/TXp_9kHhHjI/AAAAAAAABHc/t2LRtoPyveo/s400/101_1048.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That my friends, is a pair of Spongebob underwear on top of the ceiling fan in my family room.  Who knows how long it's been up there?  I don't know but I have a feeling if I try to lecture them on the importance of NOT throwing your dirty underwear up the light fixtures in your house, we'll all end up cracking up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8348751450291257147?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8348751450291257147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8348751450291257147&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8348751450291257147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8348751450291257147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/can-you-spot-it.html' title='Can you spot it?'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-duE5-Jg2X2w/TXp_95ctd-I/AAAAAAAABHk/YcPWnS1PdYU/s72-c/101_1049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1020661229537803241</id><published>2011-03-10T20:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T20:59:34.434-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 17</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 17 - A picture of something that has made a huge impact on your life recently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;I can't post about what first came to mind.  And I'm having trouble thinking of something else.  I'm having a crappy day.  It was long and it was tiring and all I can think about are the things that I DIDN'T get done or situations that I could have handled better.  I hate days like that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;Okay, back to the subject of this post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NxmufvVpn-s/TXmrHRSJXgI/AAAAAAAABHU/V_3cDTbt508/s320/Samsung-Flight-II-a927.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;Yes, I have finally joined the 21st Century and gotten my very own cell phone.  Back in 2000 I actually did have a cell phone for a short time.  When my contract was up, we never got another one.  Finances wouldn't allow it and it was kind of weird at first but I got used to it.  It's amazing what you can live without.  I even kind of enjoyed it.  I mean, it's kind of nice to just be "unavailable" sometimes you know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt;But I started feeling "out of the loop".  All my family members rely heavily on texting.  Let's be honest, the entire world relies heavily on texting these days.  And especially with my "difficult" children being in school, I felt like maybe I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"&gt; get a cell so that I could be reached in the event of some sort of problem.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;So, I finally caved.  I now have a phone and I can text with it.  Watch out world!  &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/3760782692935972587-1020661229537803241?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1020661229537803241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1020661229537803241&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1020661229537803241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1020661229537803241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-17.html' title='Day 17'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NxmufvVpn-s/TXmrHRSJXgI/AAAAAAAABHU/V_3cDTbt508/s72-c/Samsung-Flight-II-a927.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3738060983541483021</id><published>2011-03-09T21:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T21:42:39.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 16</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 16 - A picture of someone who inspires you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;There are a lot of people who inspire me in different ways.  But I have to say that the two people who come to mind first are my Mother-In-Law and my Sister-In-Law!  Yes, that's right, I said my Mother-In-Law!  I really lucked out in the in-law department.  I consider these two ladies to be two of my best friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i5M8_bXof6k/TXhhn_1X6mI/AAAAAAAABHM/2L8RT4AuHys/s320/100_1229%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;I admire "J1" (MIL) because she is just amazing.  She raised 8 kids and still has her sanity intact!  Whenever I'm having a bad day with just my 3 boys, I think to myself, "J1 had 8 kids in just 12 years..."  And somehow that just makes me feel better.  She is funny, wise, compassionate, patient, and fair.  I know that last one sounds funny but she really knows how to take a situation that everyone might be caught up in the "emotion" of, and look at it rationally and bring everyone back down to earth.  I think she might be a judge with her own TV show in her next life...  I really value her opinion and outlook on things.  I just love to spend time with her and we always have so much fun together.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;And of course, her daughter "J2" has a lot of these same traits her mom has!  J2 has 3 boys just like I do, but is infinitely more patient than I am!  She is a great cook, spends quality time with her boys, is talented and '"crafty".  She goes out of her way to help people and tries to see the positive in difficult situations.  I admire and trust her so much, I've even asked her to take my own 3 boys in the event I kick the bucket before they're grown!  I can't think of a better mother for them if I can't be around to raise them.  Hopefully someday we can live closer to each other! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;All right, our family isn't the sappy sentimental type so I'll end this post with a picture that cracks me up every time I see it.  Hopefully they don't kill me for this!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s3dl9miVmyg/TXhhnkCPisI/AAAAAAAABHE/MaaZ3a_t7M0/s320/100_1189%2B%25282%2529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Oh they're so "essy"!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3738060983541483021?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3738060983541483021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3738060983541483021&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3738060983541483021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3738060983541483021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-16.html' title='Day 16'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i5M8_bXof6k/TXhhn_1X6mI/AAAAAAAABHM/2L8RT4AuHys/s72-c/100_1229%2B%25282%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5497488367577957740</id><published>2011-03-09T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T12:46:48.891-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whine whine whine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Warning:  This post contains a lot of migraine talk.  May be boring.  Proceed with caution.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;For the past 2 weeks straight, I have either wokne up with a headache, or developed one throughout the day.  These headaches range from being mild (tolerable with Excedrin Migraine) or pretty severe to the point where I end up taking my prescription migraine medication.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I AM SICK OF IT.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I'm just using the last two weeks as an example of how bad it's been.  I've been getting headaches like crazy for 2 months!  Now granted, I have always gotten quite a few headaches.  I would say it's normal for me to get 2-4 migraines a month, and about 10 less severe headaches a month.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think it's time I go back to the neurologist.  I just REALLY don't want to.  I was on a migraine medication study for 6 months so I couldn't go in earlier because I couldn't be on any other medications while taking the "study drug".  I'm 99.9% I had the placebo because  I had zero side effects, and it didn't help or hurt me at all.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I'm off the study medication so I'm free to do what I want.  I've been on a number of preventative medications in the past.  Topamax (tried this one twice), Elavil, propranalol, Pamelor...a couple didn't work at all, a couple worked the first few months then stopped working.  The side effects can be pretty weird.  For example, Topamax makes all soda taste flat to me.  Which is not too much of a bad thing since really, NOT drinking soda is healthier.  But then there's the dizziness, tiredness, weird tremors, etc.  Some cause weight loss which could be nice, but they could also cause hair loss...which is NOT very nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm trying to go natural right now by taking the supplement Butterbur.  I've read a lot of positive things about it.  Only problem is, it can take up to 2 months before I'll even notice any difference.  I want results now dangit!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AND...I haven't even worked out for the last 6 weeks because my head hurts so badly, or I'm afraid that if I exercise too hard it will bring a migraine on.  So what do I do?  I'm so upset and frustrated with my stupid head that I'm eating like crap.  Which makes me feel even worse, which makes me eat more.  Ah...the cycle of emotional eating...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And let's not even talk about how frustrated I am at not feeling like I can be a good mother when my head hurts all the time.  Let's not talk about how I can't keep as clean a house as I'd like to because my head hurts too much to clean or smell the cleaning chemicals.  And let's not talk about how much it sucks to work while my head is killing me (listening to interviews through headphones, typing the interviews, staring at a computer for 4-5 hours a day).   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I guess that's enough negativity for the day.  I vented, I feel better.  Now back to work!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5497488367577957740?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5497488367577957740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5497488367577957740&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5497488367577957740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5497488367577957740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/whine-whine-whine.html' title='Whine whine whine'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5649703848107367813</id><published>2011-03-08T21:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T21:06:21.370-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 15</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 15 - A picture of something you want to do before you die.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YR9wlbAZuFU/TXcKpJM13lI/AAAAAAAABG8/NaYJtZA-WWY/s400/marathon.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Someday, I want to run a half-marathon!  I don't care what my time is, I just want to finish.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5649703848107367813?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5649703848107367813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5649703848107367813&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5649703848107367813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5649703848107367813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-15.html' title='Day 15'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YR9wlbAZuFU/TXcKpJM13lI/AAAAAAAABG8/NaYJtZA-WWY/s72-c/marathon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8131857578084176495</id><published>2011-03-08T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T10:01:30.404-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 14</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 14 - A picture of someone you could never imagine your life without.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DtviL3IbCkk/TXZufazYnpI/AAAAAAAABG0/dEsK8xEIT0Y/s400/101_0173.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Oh yes, that man sitting there eating ice cream for breakfast is definitely the person I couldn't imagine my life without!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8131857578084176495?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8131857578084176495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8131857578084176495&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8131857578084176495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8131857578084176495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-14.html' title='Day 14'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DtviL3IbCkk/TXZufazYnpI/AAAAAAAABG0/dEsK8xEIT0Y/s72-c/101_0173.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5845118890713415861</id><published>2011-03-08T09:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T09:44:38.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 13</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 13 - A picture of your favorite band or artist.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I really do not know how to answer this.  I like a pretty broad range of music in almost every genre.  I go through phases.  In high school, I LOVED the band 311.  Now, not so much.  I mean I still enjoy them from time to time but definitely not a fave.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I also used to LOVE Journey.  Journey is timeless and I will always love it but I can't really say it's my favorite.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;I own almost every Metallica album and have seen them in concert twice, but can I really say they are my favorite?  I just don't know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;The list could go on and on.  Anyone from Credence Clearwater Revival, to Lady Gaga, to The Cranberries, to AFI.  My husband even got me listening to a bit of techno (back in the day) and these days, Dubstep!  Seriously, my music taste has Multiple Personality Disorder.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;But you know what?  That's okay!  I refuse to be tied down by any one type of music.    For now I'll just put a pic up of who I've been listening to a lot lately.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gy3rlXobk2Q/TXZq4bUUgMI/AAAAAAAABGs/H62NHUIw0aY/s320/2732768209_ceed794ae7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;But tomorrow, who knows who it will be!&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/3760782692935972587-5845118890713415861?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5845118890713415861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5845118890713415861&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5845118890713415861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5845118890713415861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-13.html' title='Day 13'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gy3rlXobk2Q/TXZq4bUUgMI/AAAAAAAABGs/H62NHUIw0aY/s72-c/2732768209_ceed794ae7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4913810846169715609</id><published>2011-03-06T17:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-06T18:00:21.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 12</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 12 - A picture of something you love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;After reading this I turned around and looked at my family room/kitchen area and my eyes fell on this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Co2SQEeFmWc/TXQ7teZjUUI/AAAAAAAABGk/2HWyECWotr0/s400/Red%2BUniversal%2B800.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;Oh red Universal Bosch mixer, how do I love thee?  Let me count the ways...actually no I'm not going to do that.  What I will say is that it makes huge batches of cookie dough with zero problems, and can whip up the best mashed potatoes EVER.  Plus it's red so it matches my kitchen.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4913810846169715609?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4913810846169715609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4913810846169715609&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4913810846169715609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4913810846169715609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-12.html' title='Day 12'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Co2SQEeFmWc/TXQ7teZjUUI/AAAAAAAABGk/2HWyECWotr0/s72-c/Red%2BUniversal%2B800.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5703550155540171831</id><published>2011-03-05T13:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T13:15:03.132-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 11</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 11 - A picture of something you hate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Qq0H-pIBI8/TXKnEzq6ulI/AAAAAAAABGc/AL-iO1FdKQA/s400/081006-wellmannered2-hmed-11a.grid-6x2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I think this one pretty well explains itself don't you?  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Living in Arizona I think we see more than our share of "snowbirds" in the Winter.  I don't know what scares me more, an snowbird driving 20 miles under the speed limit, or a snowbird driving 20 miles over the speed limit!  Rarely do you find one actually going the ACTUAL speed limit!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now don't get me wrong, there are PLENTY of inattentive, careless, clueless YOUNG drivers in this world too.  All I know is, here in sunny AZ it is VERY dangerous to be out on the roads during the Winter months!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5703550155540171831?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5703550155540171831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5703550155540171831&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5703550155540171831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5703550155540171831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-11.html' title='Day 11'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4Qq0H-pIBI8/TXKnEzq6ulI/AAAAAAAABGc/AL-iO1FdKQA/s72-c/081006-wellmannered2-hmed-11a.grid-6x2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5870595710574993602</id><published>2011-03-05T12:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T13:10:43.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day 10</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;(I'm playing catch-up here in case you didn't notice!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 10 - A picture of the person you do the most messed up things with.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm afraid that now I'm a grown up, I don't really do "messed up" things anymore.  But a friend of mine recently had a pretty wild night and I think I'll post about it here.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;It all started innocently enough, AOAS (Aimee-On-A-Stick) simply wanted to attend a good friend's wedding.  She was so happy to be there!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tz8Mu9YdISc/TXKjFczoF1I/AAAAAAAABGM/LpVWWtUGArw/s320/Aimee6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;But then...things started to get a little crazy.  She had a &lt;i style="font-weight: bold; "&gt;little&lt;/i&gt; too much apple beer that night.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XNPFtaW_85M/TXKiM3htrtI/AAAAAAAABFE/B4B3vo0oiao/s320/Aimee2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;And she started to get a little bit risqué!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IMOKIYf9NTc/TXKis3LcVSI/AAAAAAAABF8/UmIcF-gVhA4/s320/101_0059.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;We encouraged her to mingle with the other guests but had to put that to an end rather quickly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--LjV4fJ2LOI/TXKiMtXKAtI/AAAAAAAABE8/Naqplm_VWiQ/s320/Aimee1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;She tried to show us her break-dancing moves...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wk3rsOjOUe0/TXKjFLZVccI/AAAAAAAABGE/0t2GikIvPq4/s320/Aimee5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;But we had to whisk her off the dance floor...this was a church wedding reception after all!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0KZzKg2JN-c/TXKisb07PGI/AAAAAAAABFs/9OOuYeOTmCU/s320/101_0090.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;She was a little winded after that and decided to freshen up in the ladies room.  OOPS!  Wrong one AOAS!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-D37zWpgojBg/TXKiNOk-gBI/AAAAAAAABFU/YRr5ohSddm0/s320/Aimee4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;She decided to square things up before we left.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pNwvPFQp1SU/TXKlMILlzeI/AAAAAAAABGU/l3w_iQOEy1A/s320/Aimee7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;And we decided to head to In-N-Out for a little late night snack.  When what do you know, we saw real live "Jersey Shore" wannabes in Provo, Utah!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TVifJ-2fDa4/TXKisraI1QI/AAAAAAAABF0/n9hlR3UIyH8/s320/101_0105.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;AOAS just loves In-N-Out, and In-N-Out loves her too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-paxt8e8_ZCE/TXKiNPFYoPI/AAAAAAAABFM/naIc_NTeWnQ/s320/Aimee3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Uh oh...not again AOAS!  No pole dancing in public!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kDh1hWzg5EY/TXKisV1Sm4I/AAAAAAAABFk/Hq383EZhMro/s320/101_0109.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Luckily we called it a night and AOAS got some rest.  She was all sunshine the next morning at IHOP for breakfast!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5g7_jiKxk-Y/TXKiNle8iaI/AAAAAAAABFc/N7IrIEaPGT0/s320/101_0116.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oh AOAS...you sure keep me young and alive!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5870595710574993602?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5870595710574993602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5870595710574993602&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5870595710574993602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5870595710574993602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-10.html' title='Day 10'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Tz8Mu9YdISc/TXKjFczoF1I/AAAAAAAABGM/LpVWWtUGArw/s72-c/Aimee6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5844864391314060539</id><published>2011-03-05T11:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-05T12:40:09.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Nine</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 09 - A picture of the person who has gotten you through the most.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;This is not a single person, this is an entire group of people.  A group of friends so awesome, I am amazed at how lucky I am to  have found them!  We met online (I know I know...it's weird to admit this) but now most of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt; us have met in person.  We were even able to get the majority of us together to attend a wedding in October!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHvKHy5qqLA/TXKWhmvyylI/AAAAAAAABEc/0sHukB9IpNA/s200/101_0099.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LdOfi7Zuey0/TXKWheD1iWI/AAAAAAAABEU/X5EFPlv06Bo/s200/101_0097.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oucxDmifOQQ/TXKWhKajSxI/AAAAAAAABEM/Y2u6rtk4tIQ/s200/101_0096%2B%25281%2529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-t8SuaAz-_OI/TXKWg05rFRI/AAAAAAAABEE/I3Q6eTecE8A/s200/101_0095.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MNZUsaptAy0/TXKWgV7HnmI/AAAAAAAABD8/uHRObThp0UY/s200/101_0098.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-M1VCGzHmfFg/TXKYnqqHJNI/AAAAAAAABEk/kCr9Zm39xBQ/s200/101_0100.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One girl who couldn't make it made sure she was represented!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EsnbY-RyfQc/TXKe7buOyFI/AAAAAAAABE0/UgXnlIi2Vdg/s320/101_0060.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We had A LOT of fun with "Aimee-On-A-Stick".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I just love these girls.  All 13 of them.  Hopefully someday we'll be able to arrange a get-together where we can all attend!  Might be tricky considering we live in 8 different states, but I have a feeling we will make it happen!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wv8t6uro62E/TXKepjreQgI/AAAAAAAABEs/6yk25GMxaqE/s400/101_0041.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5844864391314060539?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5844864391314060539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5844864391314060539&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5844864391314060539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5844864391314060539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-nine.html' title='Day Nine'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHvKHy5qqLA/TXKWhmvyylI/AAAAAAAABEc/0sHukB9IpNA/s72-c/101_0099.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6907142352821465849</id><published>2011-03-03T08:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-03T09:33:16.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sure Sign</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Last week while watching "I Am Number Four", I realized something.  What does it mean when you no longer think the "young male lead" character in a movie is the hot one?  Instead you find yourself thinking the "older" often "father" character is the one you're excited to see on the big screen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Case in point:  "I Am Number Four"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this man:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJCOjgxwuIg/TW_OzThbiAI/AAAAAAAABDc/ggnmtdzKXoU/s320/timothy-olyphant-picture-3.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is MUCH cuter than this guy:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8PD5uji3z8Y/TW_PnxojLJI/AAAAAAAABD0/TQLbdPZ3bEs/s320/Alex_Pettyfer_0005.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And how about "Twilight"?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'd take this guy:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dyk2H0zB_p4/TW_OznhgoeI/AAAAAAAABDk/pJ59azH_xyU/s320/Billy_Burke_555569.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Over this guy:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ihpTVUGDg2o/TW_PnFgl7dI/AAAAAAAABDs/KMln1R2cQ44/s320/Robert%2BPattinson%2Band%2BTaylor%2BLautner%2B-%2BRob%2Bor%2BTaylor%2BGuess%2Bwhos%2Bthe%2Bultimate%2Bgladiator%25281%2529.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;HANDS DOWN, any day of the week.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yup, a sure sign I'm getting older.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6907142352821465849?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6907142352821465849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6907142352821465849&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6907142352821465849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6907142352821465849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/sure-sign.html' title='A Sure Sign'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UJCOjgxwuIg/TW_OzThbiAI/AAAAAAAABDc/ggnmtdzKXoU/s72-c/timothy-olyphant-picture-3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5445600774548128088</id><published>2011-03-02T21:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T21:10:13.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Eight</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px; "&gt;Day 08 - A picture that makes you laugh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;The following picture was taken at my sister's wedding back on 2006.  It makes me laugh for many reasons, which I will number in no particular order.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%; font-family:&amp;quot;Calibri&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US; mso-bidi-language:AR-SA"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pn-RyeaKA0o/TW8iTINBztI/AAAAAAAABDU/SmCVv9Nxxu4/s400/DSCF2770.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;1.  My pirate eye.  (one eye is always bigger than the other in pictures)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;2.  Josh's mafia hairstyle.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;3.  J.J.'s GIANT FIT he's in the middle of throwing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;4.  The way both Josh and I am forcing J.J. to pose for this picture.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;5.  Trey's Tommy Boy impression of "Fat Baby in a Little Shirt"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"&gt;6.  The memory I have of being totally and completely stressed and embarrassed by how my kids were acting that day, compared with how funny I find the whole situation 5 years later.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5445600774548128088?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5445600774548128088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5445600774548128088&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5445600774548128088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5445600774548128088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-eight.html' title='Day Eight'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pn-RyeaKA0o/TW8iTINBztI/AAAAAAAABDU/SmCVv9Nxxu4/s72-c/DSCF2770.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5977554618671357986</id><published>2011-03-01T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T14:11:27.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Seven</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Add Image" border="0" class="gl_photo" /&gt;Day 07 - A picture of your most treasured item.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;When I saw this topic the first question I asked myself was, "What would I save if there was a fire?"  Obviously kids come first, then of course pictures/home videos, and hopefully I would be wearing my wedding ring so you know, that would be safe.  Those are standard answers though and I decided to dig a little deeper.  And I immediately thought of this:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y7nvWdlaR6Y/TW3Yy5giLII/AAAAAAAABDE/rlzECwqGLyQ/s400/101_1034.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;(I have no idea why this picture won't rotate for me and I'm too tired to worry about it anymore.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is a quilt made from pieces of the baby clothes my 3 boys wore.  I LOVE this quilt.  I had the idea when I was going through their old things to give away now that I'm done having kids.  It was A LOT harder than I thought it would be.  So I put aside some of my favorite outfits and thought, "It would be really cool to make a quilt someday of all these clothes."  One problem though.  I don't sew.  And I can say with a fair amount of  confidence that I never will.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Enter, my little sister Nikki!  How my little tomboy sister Nikki grew up to be interested in sewing I will never understand...  But she took my box of cloth memories and made it into something amazing!  &lt;a href="http://twopeasinaspacepod.blogspot.com/2011/03/baby-clothes-blanket.html"&gt;She even blogged about her hard work here.&lt;/a&gt;  So thank you Nikki!  You are a gem.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5977554618671357986?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5977554618671357986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5977554618671357986&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5977554618671357986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5977554618671357986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/03/day-seven.html' title='Day Seven'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Y7nvWdlaR6Y/TW3Yy5giLII/AAAAAAAABDE/rlzECwqGLyQ/s72-c/101_1034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8978750159409638170</id><published>2011-02-28T22:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T22:40:43.441-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Six</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 06 - A picture of a person you'd love to trade places with for a day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I know I know...I should pick somebody famous or rich right?  Hmmm...like Vanessa Paradis!  (just Google who she's married to and it will all make perfect sense)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;But honestly?  The person I'd love to trade places with for a day would be my husband Josh.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mPfitXGVaSA/TWySgTuyXTI/AAAAAAAABCk/lD9nu4L36MU/s320/101_0191.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;There are many reasons I wish this.  How awesome would it be for him to see what I deal with on a daily basis!? (kids, working at home, cleaning, errands, shopping, appointments, blah blah blah)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;And I'm being completely fair here, I would like to see what it's like for him to work full-time, always feeling tired, dealing with the kids, the yard work, dealing with me...haha...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Mostly though, I'd love to have the chance to really understand what goes on inside his head.  Sometimes, and I know this sounds totally weird, it's hard for me to understand that Josh is a totally separate person from me.  See, I told you that would sound weird!  I mean obviously we are two separate people.  What I mean is he DOES NOT think the same way I do!  He and I are on completely different wavelengths when it comes to problem solving, emotions, opinions, etc.  Have you ever heard that song "Opposites Attract"?  Yeah, that's us.  Now I'm not saying that one is better than the other.  I'm just saying  I would jump at the chance to really understand him better by switching place for a day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;And now I'll end this post with what is possibly my most favorite picture of all time:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ncagf9wrSdw/TWyShN6vtRI/AAAAAAAABC0/HYPIoyo69jQ/s320/101_0324.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8978750159409638170?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8978750159409638170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8978750159409638170&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8978750159409638170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8978750159409638170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-six.html' title='Day Six'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mPfitXGVaSA/TWySgTuyXTI/AAAAAAAABCk/lD9nu4L36MU/s72-c/101_0191.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1270664893424705330</id><published>2011-02-27T19:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T19:50:19.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Five</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 05 - A picture of your favorite memory.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oh boy, another tough one.  I have a lot of favorite memories.  I was going to blog about the 10 year anniversary cruise Josh and I went on last October.  But I decided that deserves a blog post of its own.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;One memory I do want to acknowledge is fishing with my brother.  Let me start off by saying that I'm not a fan of fishing.  My dad is an avid outdoorsman and we camped quite a bit while I was growing up.  And one of the first rules of hunting/fishing is "you kill it, you eat it".  Well, I hate eating fish. So do you see my dilemma?  If I did go fishing, I knew that if I caught anything, I had to eat it.  Um, no thanks!  So instead, my brother Derek would fish, and I would find a "comfy rock" to sit on while we talked and joked around for hours and hours.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OLuLqbSJ498/TWsZDj3kWQI/AAAAAAAABCc/lNZ9Iz_MqgM/s400/000_0028.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;This picture was taken the Summer of 1998, but we had been "fishing buddies" for years by that point.  Sadly I think this was the last time we got to fish together!  This was the last Summer I came home for college, and after that Derek left for his mission, then I got married, he came home from his mission and then he got married, I had a kid, he got divorced and remarried, then  joined the Army, I had a couple more kids, then he had a couple kids, then he deployed to Afghanistan, he came home safely and had another kid...now he lives across the country!    Next thing you know, 13 years has gone by.  I'll always remember the time we spent on that comfy rock though!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Love ya "little" bro!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1270664893424705330?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1270664893424705330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1270664893424705330&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1270664893424705330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1270664893424705330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-five.html' title='Day Five'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OLuLqbSJ498/TWsZDj3kWQI/AAAAAAAABCc/lNZ9Iz_MqgM/s72-c/000_0028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3629761003730244817</id><published>2011-02-26T20:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T20:33:38.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Four</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 04 - A picture of your night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I almost missed today's post!  See when I first saw the subject of Day 4, I thought, "Oh great, it's gonna be a picture of me sitting at the computer.  How pathetic."  But then I remembered, we had a date night planned for tonight!  So I brought the camera along and...forgot to take a picture until we were picking the kids up from the babysitters' house.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;So instead, I'll just give you a quick rundown of the evening.  We saw this movie:  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DP2195Xmu4c/TWnSc0MCQ0I/AAAAAAAABB0/uBl76ayFVac/s320/I-Am-Number-four-New-Poster.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;And it was AWESOME.  In general, I'm not a huge sci-fi fan.  However, I really liked this movie and highly recommend it!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then we picked the kids up.  We exchange babysitting with my old college roommate Liz (a.k.a. Boomie) and her husband Mark.  Who would have guessed that Boomie would end up marrying a guy from my hometown and that 10 years after college we would end up living just a few minutes away from each other right?  So I decided to take a picture of her putting my son's shoes on (a job which I probably should've been doing but oh well!):&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xLV6L3aRwkg/TWnSdRI2ByI/AAAAAAAABCE/joEGyt4ZyUE/s320/101_1032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then she was nice enough to snap a pic of me, Josh, and Samuel:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sz-3GMq3bsQ/TWnSdBQ62yI/AAAAAAAABB8/e8El2KMhWMo/s320/101_1030.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then we rushed home, put the monkeys to bed, and as we speak these bad boys are cooking for our tasty dinner:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J99XYl3n5Ag/TWnSdrFS7GI/AAAAAAAABCM/aN1RTwJinCA/s320/101_1033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;We had big plans to get Chipotle after the movie, then eat it after we picked up the kids and put them to bed but we ran out of time.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well, I'm off to go enjoy my dinner!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3629761003730244817?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3629761003730244817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3629761003730244817&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3629761003730244817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3629761003730244817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-four.html' title='Day Four'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DP2195Xmu4c/TWnSc0MCQ0I/AAAAAAAABB0/uBl76ayFVac/s72-c/I-Am-Number-four-New-Poster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1588156061181553224</id><published>2011-02-25T15:39:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T15:48:54.023-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Three</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Day 03 - A picture of the cast from your favorite show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Hmm, another tough one.  I have to admit, I watch a lot of TV.  Which is weird, since one of my favorite things to do is READ, and the opposite of reading is watching TV.  (according to my logic)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyway, I have MANY favorites but right now I will say I'm most excited to watch these two shows:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;1.  Cougar Town - DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT judge this show by it's awful title.  Other than the first 2 episodes or so, it has nothing to do with older women chasing younger men.  I promise you, this show hilarious.   Favorite character = Ellie&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u8diTDRiCWY/TWg9uaNsqYI/AAAAAAAABBk/C5Xn4vP0ypY/s400/cougar_town_cast.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;2.  The Community - We started watching this show last year when it first started.  At first, I thought, "Meh.".  It was funny but nothing special.  Then came the Halloween episode of 2009.  That was the turning point for me.  I literally laughed so hard, I was crying.  Tears were streaming down my face.  When it was over we immediately watched it again.  (we never do that)  And ever since then, this show has been a favorite.  Favorite character = Abed&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qERXPh_o_Pw/TWg95jnso6I/AAAAAAAABBs/zU5Jx7fteTg/s400/Community-cast_320.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;I want to give an honorable mention to The Office, 30 Rock, Parks and Rec, Outsourced, and Desperate Housewives.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"&gt;Shows I still watch but am sick of but can't stop watching them until they're over:  Grey's Anatomy, Private Practice, Survivor (even new seasons still get me).  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1588156061181553224?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1588156061181553224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1588156061181553224&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1588156061181553224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1588156061181553224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-three.html' title='Day Three'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-u8diTDRiCWY/TWg9uaNsqYI/AAAAAAAABBk/C5Xn4vP0ypY/s72-c/cougar_town_cast.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3284904607892463504</id><published>2011-02-24T16:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T16:56:19.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>President's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Who celebrates President's Day?  Come on, anyone?  Yup, just as I thought...NOBODY celebrates President's Day except maybe mattress stores or car dealerships looking for an excuse to have a big sale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well here in the Larsen household, we know how to give proper respect to our forefathers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started the day off right by having cupcakes for breakfast!  Hey any excuse to have cake right?  We even sang "Happy Birthday" to good ole Washington and Lincoln.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rwgnDpp_qhY/TWb8kQ8oytI/AAAAAAAABBE/MDnYhRnsAiU/s320/000_0017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Josh worked very hard on the decor.  I woke up to this giant face being stapled on my kitchen wall.  (if you look closely, you can see those are 9 regular sized pieces of paper that he printed and taped together)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S_VsjKWDEis/TWb9IONtM4I/AAAAAAAABBU/U7vdNWNgxgA/s320/000_0018.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Josh also won the boys' "Parent of the Year" award for making the boys their own President's Day coloring books, and a President's Day word search.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6swYSEnVtJo/TWb8klo86zI/AAAAAAAABBM/wfEJKG_zHdo/s320/000_0019.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Why did we go through all this trouble you ask?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the expression on Trey's face is explanation enough!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TRLj82DgpaM/TWb9ISRabwI/AAAAAAAABBc/8ka_49wzrVw/s320/000_0020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3284904607892463504?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3284904607892463504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3284904607892463504&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3284904607892463504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3284904607892463504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/presidents-day.html' title='President&apos;s Day'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rwgnDpp_qhY/TWb8kQ8oytI/AAAAAAAABBE/MDnYhRnsAiU/s72-c/000_0017.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2918820951290761873</id><published>2011-02-24T11:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-24T11:23:05.151-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A picture of you and the person you have been close with for the longest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Hmm, this is a hard one.  Do I pick Josh?  We have been married 10 years so I guess that counts as being close right?  Picking my husband just seems like a cop out though.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I think I'll pick...my SISTER NIKKI!  Come on down Nikki!  You've just won a shout out on my blog! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-19Xf5H-qtwE/TWauwiIs9aI/AAAAAAAABA8/65Fo7FOmQ94/s400/DSCF4854.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Wow, this is the only picture I could find of just the two of us together.  I think we need to fix that because that is just sad.  Anyway, this was taken a couple of years ago in Utah at a family reunion.    We hiked to this awesome waterfall (Stewart Falls to be exact).  Look at us...looking all outdoorsy and stuff!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So yes, even though Nikki is 9 years younger than me, we still manage to keep our sisterly bond strong!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2918820951290761873?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2918820951290761873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2918820951290761873&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2918820951290761873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2918820951290761873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-two.html' title='Day Two'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-19Xf5H-qtwE/TWauwiIs9aI/AAAAAAAABA8/65Fo7FOmQ94/s72-c/DSCF4854.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-12811409962450849</id><published>2011-02-23T11:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-23T11:41:45.883-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The 60 Day Challenge&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm fresh out of blog ideas but saw one of my FB friends doing this and thought it would work for my blog.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DAY ONE:  A picture of yourself with 15 facts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yuck, now I have to find a picture of myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay here's one from our cruise last October that I never got around to blogging about.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvPNQAjlg7g/TWVbkwuWWfI/AAAAAAAABA0/gcED1v6BNzQ/s320/101_0256.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's me, in Ensenada, Mexico.  Yes, that wall is covered in bird crap.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, 15 facts:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  I hate wearing lipstick.  It just feels gross and I think it looks funny on me!  I'll do lip gloss but mostly I'm a chapstick girl.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  I have a degree in Social Work.  I hope to never work in that field ever again.  I chose my major because I wanted to help people.  But once I got out there and starting working in my chosen field, I discovered that...I don't really like people all that much.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  I hate it when people clip their nails in public.  What is up with that?  Gross.  There was a lady at one of my old jobs that would do this!  In a professional office setting, she would just clip her nails and let them just fall on the floor.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  I love to read and would read all day if I could.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  I've had 3 last names but only been married once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6.  I can't sleep unless I have some type of white noise.  Like a fan, or a white noise machine.  I always take either of these with me when I travel.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.  I am DEATHLY afraid of all insects/spiders.  I don't think you understand my fear.  It's intense.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8.  I refuse to buy anything unless it's on sale or I have a coupon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9.  I am totally and completely anti-tanning.  In the summer I wear nothing less than SPF50 at all times, and a giant floppy hat.  In fact, to my friends' husbands I am known as "the really white one".  I find this funny!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10.  I have recently discovered I am an emotional eater.  No wonder I've gained 15 pounds over the last 2 years right?  In related news, I always keep a supply of dark chocolate in my fridge for those really crappy days.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11.  I'm not a big fan of animals.  Don't get me wrong, I don't hate animals.  I just don't want to be near them, I don't want them touching me, licking me, etc.  I want to view them from a safe distance.  I pretend to like animals for my kids, so they don't turn out like me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12.  I like to clean and organize.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13.  I might have some OCD tendencies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14.  I'm done having kids.  No, I'm not going to keep trying for a girl.  I like having all boys! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15.  I type 104 WPM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-12811409962450849?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/12811409962450849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=12811409962450849&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/12811409962450849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/12811409962450849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/day-one.html' title='Day One'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TvPNQAjlg7g/TWVbkwuWWfI/AAAAAAAABA0/gcED1v6BNzQ/s72-c/101_0256.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-553156085627044669</id><published>2011-02-22T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T12:13:21.942-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WHY do I torture myself?</title><content type='html'>Do any of you read certain blogs (not mine of course) and then after you read it, you question yourself for the MILLIONTH time why you read that blog?  Because this particular blog drives you INSANE and you HATE reading it, and are DISGUSTED with the author, and if you saw her on the street you would probably want to puke all over her?  And every time you see a new post from this blog in Google Reader you dread clicking on it, then click on it anyway, and your blood pressure goes up, and it starts all over again?  And yet...you CAN'T seem to unsubscribe because it's like looking at a train wreck.  What stupid obnoxious subject is she going to post about now?  What stupid words is she going to make up next?  What AWFUL pictures is she going to post today?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What is wrong with me?  DELETE this obnoxious blog already!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay I'm done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;** This does not apply to anybody who I know of that reads my blog, has ever commented on my blog, etc.  I'm 99.999% sure this person has never set eyes on my blog and never will.  And yet, I still felt the need to put this out into the universe.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-553156085627044669?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/553156085627044669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=553156085627044669&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/553156085627044669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/553156085627044669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/why-do-i-torture-myself.html' title='WHY do I torture myself?'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-643894685392739477</id><published>2011-02-20T17:20:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T18:09:53.962-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 things I want to blog about, in no particular order</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1.  Awesome friends!  Do you have friends that you really feel have been "sent" to you for a specific time in your life, for a specific reason?  Well, I have an AWESOME group of friends that I KNOW were sent to me when I needed them most.  I could do an entire blog post on these girls and how they have literally saved my sanity.  (And none of them even live in my state!)  I'll save that blog post for another time though.  For now, here's a public shout out to "L" to say thank you for the cute birthday card!  RAWR!  (in other news, I turned 32 last month...yikes!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g_5nZsovymU/TWHFm5KniTI/AAAAAAAABAk/7CKoB21drwU/s320/101_0932.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  Next I'd like to talk about chocolate.  I LOVE dark chocolate.  I may or may not have a constant emergency supply of dark chocolate in my fridge.  My family all knows about this about me and so when my BIL married a girl from Ukraine last October, she brought some Ukrainian chocolates and made sure I got some of the dark chocolate ones.  And I can say this with confidence, that THIS:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dNDwkbwH2nw/TWHFnIYzDsI/AAAAAAAABAs/DpQ2LZR0uYI/s320/101_0933.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;was hands down, the BEST piece of chocolate I have EVER eaten in my ENTIRE life.  I will dream about this chocolate until the day I die.  Seriously.  That good.  So good that when I discovered a piece of it melted in the car on the way home, I almost cried.  Then I put it in the fridge and ate it anyway.  Whew!  Crisis averted.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  Next we have my boys.  What is it about them all dressed up for church that always makes me want to grab my camera?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dsMtpIk9nr4/TWHFmcXkHLI/AAAAAAAABAc/YYG8W_GPNBE/s320/101_0931.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J.J. has developed an obsession lately.  An obsession over the presidents of our great country, the United States of America!  I'm not kidding, this kid knows more random facts about random presidents than I have even known, or care to know!  An example?  This morning we were watching Legacy (a movie put out by our church about the pioneers) and at one point on screen it said the year was 1838.  J.J. pipes up, "Oh!  Martin Van Buren was the president!"  Um...what?  What 7 year old knows that?!  Oh yes...my 7 year old does.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, going along with this new obsession he has started collecting coins.  He used some money he had received for his birthday to buy the first 16 presidential gold dollars released so far.  See how happy he is?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6Sv2rSEWm3Q/TWG-jkN4mWI/AAAAAAAABAE/vxY5zzaRbkc/s320/101_0967.JPG" /&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;Then of course we have Trey.  Oh Trey... what can I say?  I just love this boy.  I spend more time stressing over this child and his ADHD than the other 2 combined.  Like I recently posted in a Facebook status update, "Oh ADHD...you make my life interesting."  And boy does it ever!  Sometimes I don't know how it is possible to pack so much personality into one little body.    I could probably have a blog just dedicated to the crazy things he says.  He's my most difficult, most emotional, most sweet/loving/caring, most difficult (did I say that already?) child.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rKykMC0lrVU/TWG-j3eDm7I/AAAAAAAABAM/H53Zc7bCZsc/s320/101_0976.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then of course we have the baby, Samuel.  Samuel is my quiet one.  And I don't just mean because of his speech delay!  He has always been my quiet one.  He was the quietest, most well-behaved baby EVER.  He's still quiet, but now he's also sneaky which usually translates into he's being sneaky AND naughty!  Still though, I love his little face.  I don't think it will matter how big he gets, he's my last baby so I think I'll always think of him as THE baby.  He is rarely without his "blankie" and his "cozy" (milk).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hHRcE6nC-CE/TWG-kWZ53VI/AAAAAAAABAU/3awAnK4TTbs/s320/101_0997.JPG" /&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;And that is all for today.  Thanks for reading!&lt;br /&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/3760782692935972587-643894685392739477?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/643894685392739477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=643894685392739477&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/643894685392739477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/643894685392739477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/3-things-i-want-to-blog-about-in-no.html' title='3 things I want to blog about, in no particular order'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-g_5nZsovymU/TWHFm5KniTI/AAAAAAAABAk/7CKoB21drwU/s72-c/101_0932.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6741151110396739493</id><published>2011-02-16T11:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:12:14.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I like to go all out for holidays.  I've accepted this about myself.  Josh teases me about it and thinks it's a little ridiculous...but I think he secretly likes it and I KNOW my boys love it.  This year at Target I saw these SUPER cute mailboxes in the dollar section and immediately wanted them.  But what to do with them?  Then inspiration hit.  I quickly snagged 5 of them and good thing because when I went back to Target the next day, they were all gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lLuL46zA38M/TVwfusi-7LI/AAAAAAAAA_M/CzSjz6KRQq4/s320/101_0979.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We put them to good use by leaving each other "love notes" throughout the weeks leading up to V-Day.  Sometimes, the boys even found extra surprises in their boxes!  One day some Valentine's snow globes, the next a little heart puzzle, heart cups, etc.  Let's just say I went a little crazy clearance shopping the year before and this was the perfect way to deliver some of the things I bought.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some of the other decor:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ji_YRuFDhT0/TVwfuxuI2iI/AAAAAAAAA_U/P3TSaUxZt64/s320/101_0981.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vgcPKbaulbY/TVwfvJvCjaI/AAAAAAAAA_c/GYlxS8a7lEs/s320/101_0982.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-isV7jL-smXE/TVwfvm_wEkI/AAAAAAAAA_k/95sDqxsxMTk/s320/101_0983.JPG" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nmtP8zgYhlo/TVwfwFPNGoI/AAAAAAAAA_s/Xt-f5A-MGzs/s320/101_0984.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another tradition I love is I give each of my boys (all 4 of them!) a giant decorated sugar cookie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KFaDnGe6zB8/TVwgs9MYnDI/AAAAAAAAA_8/HQnHwOu-HzQ/s320/101_1013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also gave the boys some Pixos and Pez.  What more could you ask for on Valentine's Day?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For my main Valentine, I made a candy message on a poster board.  I'd post it in here but...it's kind of R-rated.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Valentine's Day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/3760782692935972587-6741151110396739493?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6741151110396739493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6741151110396739493&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6741151110396739493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6741151110396739493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lLuL46zA38M/TVwfusi-7LI/AAAAAAAAA_M/CzSjz6KRQq4/s72-c/101_0979.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8108506133757528845</id><published>2011-01-19T10:01:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T12:34:08.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, I knew it.</title><content type='html'>I knew my luck was going to run out, and I had a feeling it was going to be this year. Can you believe that up until yesterday, I had 3 grandpas, and 4 grandmas living? (couple divorces and one grandma passing away when I was 5 gave me extra grandparents)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many people can say that when they are 32 years old? (by the way, my birthday was Monday)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, yesterday afternoon my mom called me to tell me my Grandpa S. passed away in a hospital in Brasil. Even though I haven't seen him in 8 years, and even though he was 91, and even though we had all been expecting this for many years...it didn't make it any easier.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel a lot of guilt that I didn't stay in better contact with him. Oh sure, I sent him pictures, I emailed him occasionally, we even spoke on the phone every once in awhile. But this last month I had felt very strongly that I should call him, or email him...and I didn't do it. I even had my mom send me his email address 3 weeks ago (b/c somehow I couldn't find it on my email contacts) but still, I didn't email him. I took for granted that I could always do it "tomorrow". And now it's too late.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a lot of good memories of my Grandpa. He used to make a yearly trip up to the states from Brasil to visit all his children/grandchildren. He'd bring us all packets of guarana and the most delicious treats we called bonbons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGMx1hMkI/AAAAAAAAA-0/_5yX8Y7ELS4/s1600/unidadesonhodevalsa.gif"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGMx1hMkI/AAAAAAAAA-0/_5yX8Y7ELS4/s320/unidadesonhodevalsa.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563993049989722690" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 250px; height: 250px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He used to do "churrasco" (Brasilian style BBQ) for us, and to this day I have not tasted better steaks than his!  He used to tell us to clean our plates at dinner so we could be members of "the clean clate club".  He'd also joke around that he was going to take us to the ice cream store so we could sit and watch the other kids eating ice cream.  haha!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He was a very successful businessman and knew how to save his money.  Even though he never had the opportunity to obtain a college education, he made sure that all his children and grandchildren had the financial opportunity to do so.  I owe my college degree, and all the great experiences I had at BYU to him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Today my boys are wearing their Brasilian t-shirts to honor their great-grandpa they never had the opportunity to meet in this life.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdHc1H1ddI/AAAAAAAAA-8/GvD4kncG14U/s320/101_0951.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563994425261389266" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Grandpa reading a book to me and my brother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;1984&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGMx1hMkI/AAAAAAAAA-0/_5yX8Y7ELS4/s1600/unidadesonhodevalsa.gif"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGL1qnJhI/AAAAAAAAA-c/-0TrLZIkrlo/s320/102_2776.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563993033837848082" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 254px; " /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Vovo, me, and Grandpa&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;1997&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGMexfQ3I/AAAAAAAAA-k/CbeRj9lMWz0/s320/102_2777.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 259px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563993044872545138" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Grandpa, me, and Vovo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2000&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGM6wSDpI/AAAAAAAAA-s/U3LpT0g01xU/s1600/102_2786.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGM6wSDpI/AAAAAAAAA-s/U3LpT0g01xU/s320/102_2786.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563993052383678098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I love you Grandpa.&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/3760782692935972587-8108506133757528845?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8108506133757528845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8108506133757528845&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8108506133757528845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8108506133757528845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2011/01/well-i-knew-it.html' title='Well, I knew it.'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TTdGMx1hMkI/AAAAAAAAA-0/_5yX8Y7ELS4/s72-c/unidadesonhodevalsa.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6102160605615468729</id><published>2010-12-24T14:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T14:48:38.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Cookie vs. the Sprinkle Bomb</title><content type='html'>You know the tradition right?  Baking cookies for Santa?  Well, for someone who REALLY hates messes, this simple tradition is very difficult for me.  I try to take deep breaths!  I try not to think about an entire bottle of sprinkles being dumped on one cookie.  I try not to think about the gooey frosting wiped all over the counter, under the counter, and on everyone's clothes.  I try not to think about frosting/sprinkle/cookie crumb mess all over the kitchen floor.  I try not to think about the clean up afterwards.  &lt;p&gt;I can't say I'm successful, but I can say I still managed to enjoy it!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUetosB3_I/AAAAAAAAA84/odNE0SIrv7I/s320/101_0793.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554379484796411890" /&gt;And I think they enjoyed it too. &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUeugKVyzI/AAAAAAAAA9Q/7DvzvCdefUA/s320/101_0800.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554379499687496498" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUeu48JE3I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/7k3ATwgccZY/s320/101_0801.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554379506338829170" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Samuel created what I would consider to be a "sprinkle bomb".  (I stole this term from another fellow blogger!)  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUetxs3dnI/AAAAAAAAA9A/zdw0Enpb2DE/s320/101_0798.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554379487215842930" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mmm...yummy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If there's one way to describe Josh, it's that he "thinks outside the box".  He will never do what is expected.  And that includes decorating cookies.  Most people when they are given a bell shaped cookie, or a Christmas tree shaped cookie, will decorate it to be a bell, or a tree.  Right?  Not Josh.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUeuMEVjwI/AAAAAAAAA9I/ybdPN8_1R4k/s320/101_0807.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554379494293606146" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Josh will take that bell and tree, turn them upside down, and make Rudolph and a carrot.  Last year, he turned a snowman shaped cookie into...&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUiJfUXSlI/AAAAAAAAA9w/1AxmoWIgjeI/s320/100_1612.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554383261852453458" /&gt;  I just love him!  Never a dull day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All in all, we had a pretty successful run!  We even have our cookies set aside for Santa.  Merry Christmas everyone!&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUgDjt3s_I/AAAAAAAAA9o/tod3DZFlTaw/s320/101_0809.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554380960930706418" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6102160605615468729?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6102160605615468729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6102160605615468729&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6102160605615468729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6102160605615468729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-cookie-vs-sprinkle-bomb.html' title='Christmas Cookie vs. the Sprinkle Bomb'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TRUetosB3_I/AAAAAAAAA84/odNE0SIrv7I/s72-c/101_0793.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2541332886369914092</id><published>2010-12-07T09:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T09:39:46.252-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Christmas Tree Oh Christmas Tree...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;7 years ago when we first put up our pre-lit tree, I thought it was the best thing EVER.  How easy!  How convenient!  No stringing the lights around and trying to make sure it was even...just perfectly spaced lights as far as the eye could see!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The last couple years we ran into some trouble.  Big sections of lights wouldn't work, so Josh would spend some time fiddling with it.  WHEW, sigh of relief, the lights would come on.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This year...our luck ran out.  Nothing would make those lights turn on.  So Josh decided he would simply take the pre-lit lights OFF the tree.  What's that you say?  Why didn't we just go buy a new tree?  Simple.  'Cause we're CHEAP! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But let me tell you, 10 man hours into un-clipping what turned out to be THOUSANDS of tiny clips holding who knows how many light strands on that tree, we were cursing our frugality.  Yes, we may have saved 150 bucks, but the price of our sanity would have been worth it!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TP5ubCXHEjI/AAAAAAAAA8o/XHernArY__s/s320/101_0687.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547993201736356402" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Those little tiny things on the floor are just a fraction of the clips that were all over our house by the time we were done.  That big mess of lights?  Josh thinks he's going to untangle that somehow!  Yeah...  I think I might sneak out to the garage and throw it away on trash day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So we're back to decorating our tree old-school style.  And I think it turned out pretty good!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TP5ubhBQlzI/AAAAAAAAA8w/cvM7Ll64bqc/s320/101_0704.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547993209966204722" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;YES.  That is a baby gate around our tree.  After not putting ornaments on the bottom half of our tree for 5 years, and me losing my mind trying to keep my 3 boys from dragging the tree down on top of them every year...I got smart last year.  I picked that baby up off Craigslist and have never looked back!  Last year I tried to put some tinsel-garland around the top but it ended up looking like barbed wire.  This year, we're going with peppermint lights.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2541332886369914092?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2541332886369914092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2541332886369914092&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2541332886369914092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2541332886369914092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/12/oh-christmas-tree-oh-christmas-tree.html' title='Oh Christmas Tree Oh Christmas Tree...'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TP5ubCXHEjI/AAAAAAAAA8o/XHernArY__s/s72-c/101_0687.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6698790061866295146</id><published>2010-11-28T15:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T15:18:21.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How is your Sunday going?</title><content type='html'>Mine has been...well, see for yourself:&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TPLiRExwiCI/AAAAAAAAA8g/omqf3hvXDdc/s320/poopcrop.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544742874214598690" /&gt;Let this be a lesson to you all.  If you are potty training your child, and you think to yourself, "I should see if they need to go potty..." but then you get distracted with the needs of your other children, ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS IGNORE THE OLDER CHILDREN!!   Otherwise, your 3 year old will come to you 5 minutes later with poop on their foreheads and everywhere else you can think of, and lead you into the bathroom to this lovely scene.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6698790061866295146?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6698790061866295146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6698790061866295146&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6698790061866295146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6698790061866295146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/11/how-is-your-sunday-going.html' title='How is your Sunday going?'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TPLiRExwiCI/AAAAAAAAA8g/omqf3hvXDdc/s72-c/poopcrop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2252894624469577762</id><published>2010-11-20T07:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T08:41:16.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Texas!</title><content type='html'>Okay I'm still playing catch up here.  This trip was back in July!  &lt;p&gt;Josh's sister and her husband moved to Amarillo, TX about a year and a half ago.    They have 3 boys also, about a year younger than each of our boys.  Needless to say, things get crazy when our two families get together!  I wish we could live closer to each other so the cousins could grow up together.  The trip to Texas was so the boys could play together, and so we could see what Texas was all about.  I am ashamed to admit, I have never been further east than good 'ole Arizona.  Not through any fault of my own!  My family didn't start taking awesome family vacations until I was moved out and on my own.  And by that time, I was a poor college student, then a poor newly married woman, then a poor mother with small children.  None of those are conducive to travel opportunities!  Oh well, life happens right?  Anyway, I was pretty excited to finally "travel"!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The drive to Texas was probably the most boring drive EVER, in the history of the universe.  Desert, desert, and more desert.  That's what you will see when you drive through Arizona and New Mexico.  Anyway, 10 hours later (which I drove by myself because I rock!) we were finally there!  Driving into Texas my first impression was...this place is FLAT.  Seriously, it was weird.  I never really thought of Arizona of being mountainous, and it's not, but compared to Texas it might as well be the Rocky Mountains!  It was a little disorienting throughout our week stay.  I never realized how much I depended on the mountains to know where I was at any given moment.  Still though, I found it absolutely beautiful.  Look at that sky!  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfs8TUvJtI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/07CGI32AU_Y/s320/100_2489.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541658387226240722" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The boys had SO much fun with their cousins.  We figured that between all 6 of them, we had a 1 year old, 2 year old, 4 year old, 2 - 5 year olds, and a 6 year old!   &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOftv_cwB4I/AAAAAAAAA4g/5XVxf06Ha9Y/s320/DSCN8990.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541659275244341122" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mostly they played with bugs.  Really gross ones.  Which I might as well say now, might be the one part of Texas I most definitely DO NOT like!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Those are potato bugs, or "roly polys" all over his hands!  Yuck.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfuk64qXgI/AAAAAAAAA4o/Khyg6-u5rps/s320/DSCN9042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541660184552300034" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Then the boys were collecting the potato bugs, and putting them in this old trash can, making a sort of "habitat" for them, if you will.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfulf0AwiI/AAAAAAAAA4w/5XcJq5cW2FQ/s320/DSCN9053.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541660194464907810" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Oh, and don't let me forget about the snail collection...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfwwWyz9pI/AAAAAAAAA44/ArgqYSzkvVM/s320/DSCN9105.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541662580045772434" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Boys are gross right?  But they sure are cute in their excitement!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There were a lot of trips to the park:  (and a lot of failed attempts to get a picture of all the boys together)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfxdfMY6nI/AAAAAAAAA5Y/GaPThTuAURY/s200/DSCN9066.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663355394648690" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfxbks2nxI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/4z3SjSCiv6I/s200/DSCN9065.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663322513252114" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfxanAt9bI/AAAAAAAAA5I/ZBBnNwkglaM/s200/DSCN9061.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663305953572274" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfxaF9d7VI/AAAAAAAAA5A/xKJy0cGeYbw/s200/DSCN9058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663297081568594" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfxetTR_ZI/AAAAAAAAA5g/VpOZq-pvDpI/s200/DSCN9078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541663376361520530" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfyExIMp2I/AAAAAAAAA54/SEDUO8kWJC8/s200/DSCN9086.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541664030223804258" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfyEMopxlI/AAAAAAAAA5w/ORi6dO-X-sQ/s200/DSCN9090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541664020427818578" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfyDfgyNPI/AAAAAAAAA5o/yQ5fBJjKPKY/s200/DSCN9082.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541664008315221234" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfyFoeOENI/AAAAAAAAA6A/5JwEtoeIERQ/s200/DSCN9064.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541664045080121554" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And a gun safety lesson.  Because after all, what is a trip to Texas without handling a gun right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfyb_Q7API/AAAAAAAAA6I/BqUL5Kwel38/s320/DSCN9096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541664429155483890" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And a couple trips to Palo Duro Canyon!  Can you believe all that red rock/dirt?  I thought they only had that in Utah/Sedona, AZ.  I was wrong.  It was really cool!    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfzGM1CTiI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/NlEdPxaaIoo/s200/DSCN9134.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665154351124002" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfzG0unDaI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/YBcveNvV8vI/s200/DSCN9169.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665165061590434" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfzI_ja3dI/AAAAAAAAA6w/P5iM8Wi59No/s200/DSCN9166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665202327182802" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfzICXcEoI/AAAAAAAAA6o/r3a6_8ToCxg/s200/DSCN9182.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665185902367362" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfzHRWvUlI/AAAAAAAAA6g/T54xpuMO-Gg/s200/DSCN9180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541665172746097234" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf0PiaSjvI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/xOkM80Hhkj8/s200/100_2429.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666414274973426" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf0PJoMHyI/AAAAAAAAA7I/_7Dlu3WQppY/s200/100_2428.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666407622385442" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf0OvJwBdI/AAAAAAAAA7A/nwBIdgu5KbM/s200/DSCN9150.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666400515392978" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf0OfD5tEI/AAAAAAAAA64/hLg5Q37nPlg/s200/DSCN9178.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666396195894338" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf0QbMJB_I/AAAAAAAAA7Y/QbmePDMm4nA/s200/100_2453.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541666429516449778" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf1f0LH12I/AAAAAAAAA74/I6kX5Ukh2bg/s200/100_2485.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541667793432729442" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf1fXNSYUI/AAAAAAAAA7w/4FaaBhavbls/s200/100_2459.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541667785657180482" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf1e_wo8EI/AAAAAAAAA7o/L8_BLkIm_ig/s200/100_2456.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541667779363008578" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Palo Duro Canyon was beautiful!  But once again...I was reminded that Texas has bugs.  REALLY gross ones.  Like tarantulas and millipedes.  Lots of them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf1gZ6A9xI/AAAAAAAAA8A/L-HhOD3woBs/s200/100_2478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541667803561522962" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOf2VfO2WKI/AAAAAAAAA8I/7tMPSDD8cQ0/s200/100_2427.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541668715524151458" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Anyway, we pretty much had a blast!  And should the opportunity ever arise, I think I'll take my chances with the disgusting bugs, and move to Texas!  Everyone was so friendly there, and I just love my SIL and her family.  I know the boys would be in heaven to live near their cousins.  Built in best friends, right in the family!  Now if only we can find a good job out there and sell our house here in AZ in this crappy market...well a girl can hope right?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2252894624469577762?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2252894624469577762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2252894624469577762&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2252894624469577762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2252894624469577762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/11/i-love-texas.html' title='I love Texas!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TOfs8TUvJtI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/07CGI32AU_Y/s72-c/100_2489.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4588994467867244684</id><published>2010-11-06T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T22:15:24.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day of School</title><content type='html'>Okay at this point, I'm so far behind that I feel silly doing a first day of school post almost 3 months AFTER school has started.  But I don't care, I need to catch up and I might as well start somewhere.  &lt;p&gt;School started August 11th.  This year I have all 3 boys in school!  Can I get a "WOOT WOOT!"  It worked out so that I have 3 days of 2 hour time blocks during the week with no children at home.  So I thought to myself, "Yes!  Now I can finally get some projects and deep cleaning done around the house!"  I even made a HUGE to-do list of all I was going to accomplish (I LOVE making lists), and figured it would take a month or two to complete.  Want to know how many things I have crossed off that list?  A BIG FAT ZERO.  Turns out, that time &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;flies&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; by!  As in, I have no idea where it goes.  By the time I sweep the breakfast cereal off the floor, do the dishes, and run an errand or two, my time is up.  It's all very disappointing.  Oh well.  Maybe I'll be more productive in a couple years when all 3 boys are in all day school?  I'm not keeping my hopes up.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, all 3 boys are also in 3 different schools.  I opted to put Trey in a half day Kindergarten program, which meant I had to get a boundary exception and put him in a school in the neighboring city.  It also means there's no busing and I have to drive him to and from each day.  But it was definitely the right decision for him.  He is NOT ready to be in school all day.  In fact, I think it's fair to say he is barely ready to be in school even half a day, based on the fact I was called into a meeting with the teacher the first week of school and have since been to two more parent/teacher/school psychologist meetings.  But what can I say?  I'm not surprised.  It was a rocky start, but I feel like he's doing much better now.  And wasn't he just the cutest thing ever on his first day? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He was VERY excited:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNYv5o02uOI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/2BFqtuwcbMI/s320/100_2558.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536665459156760802" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Then started to get a little nervous:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNYv52g90XI/AAAAAAAAA3g/4N5jY4gE2QI/s320/100_2571.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536665462831436146" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Now here comes the saddest picture I've ever taken:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNYv512FzMI/AAAAAAAAA3o/NL134caZrAw/s320/100_2574.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536665462651604162" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;J.J. had ZERO problems starting school this year.  You might remember the &lt;a href="http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2009/08/first-day-of-school.html"&gt;hard time he had last year&lt;/a&gt;.  Well, this year it was a completely different story.  Not only did he know what to expect with riding the bus, but he ended up having the same teacher as least year too!  She was a substitute for half the year due to his regular teacher going on maternity leave, and the school ended up hiring her permanently for 1st grade!  I really like this teacher so I was very happy too.  And can I just have a bragging moment for a sec?  J.J.'s teacher called me a couple weeks into school to tell me that during the beginning of the year placement tests, on the math portion he "blew it out of the water" and was "heads and heads" above the rest of the 1st graders!  And that it was "unheard of" for a child to score that well at the beginning of the year!  (sigh)  My little genius...&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNYxUBhMTRI/AAAAAAAAA3w/NzQ63d31QGs/s320/100_2561.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536667011973401874" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now for Samuel.  He qualified for a development preschool this year because of his speech delay.  I felt a little strange having him start school and only being 2 years old.  He's just so little still!  But this is to help him "catch up" on his speech and other delays.  I've heard great things about this school from a neighbor of mine, and was very impressed with the campus and his teacher.  Believe it or not, after only one week of school I swear he started saying more words!  He has definitely progressed and I feel confident he will start Kindergarten in a few years with no problems.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNYycgVjO8I/AAAAAAAAA34/mKwgG0shbjI/s320/100_2578.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536668257196653506" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I love my boys.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNY1qFry8jI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/cpctI4EWVL8/s320/100_2564.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536671789095252530" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNY1puxoYyI/AAAAAAAAA4A/1N-mn330YqU/s320/100_2560.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536671782945710882" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNY1p-fmGOI/AAAAAAAAA4I/HFPFxxPlm34/s320/100_2563.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5536671787165030626" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4588994467867244684?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4588994467867244684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4588994467867244684&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4588994467867244684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4588994467867244684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/11/first-day-of-school.html' title='First Day of School'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TNYv5o02uOI/AAAAAAAAA3Y/2BFqtuwcbMI/s72-c/100_2558.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5659567538543994804</id><published>2010-09-01T20:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T22:00:06.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My baby is a big boy  :(</title><content type='html'>So last Saturday, my oldest son turned 7.  I can't believe it!  I should probably try to remember his birth story and document it on here since it was pre-blog days but...maybe it's something best forgotten!  Oh well, I'll do it anyway.  And look, I even found old pictures to go with the story!&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8iHP39gpI/AAAAAAAAA1U/07se-HQ1kys/s320/DCP_0018.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512161976840454802" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Yikes...I put on a few lbs. during pregnancy.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's the story in a nutshell.  He was induced at 38 weeks because he was huge, and my dr. was afraid if he went to 40 weeks he would be over 10 lbs.  (huge babies run in my family)  So I checked into the hospital on the 27th at about 6:30 to start the process.  Blah blah blah, had to do a lot of crap to prepare since I wasn't effaced or having contractions or anything.  Also had a really mean nurse who kept saying she didn't think I should be induced, and she shoudl send me home.  "Hey guess what, NOT your call lady!  Do you have an MD?  No, that's what I thought."  So all day I was scared I would be sent home until finally they broke my water that afternoon and started the pitocin.  Also got my epidural.  (And the mean nurse left!)  Then came the longest night of my ENTIRE life.  Lots of puking, the worst headache ever that I thought was a migraine but turned out to be a spinal headache from the epidural.  I didn't say anything about it because I was scared to death they would stop my epidural!  I hardly progressed at all the entire night.  Finally at about 4:00 in the morning, I felt crazy pressure and like I needed to push.  It's a weird feeling...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pushed the button and called the nurse in who checked me and then did that thing that medical people do when they're freaking out but pretending everything is fine.  Turns out I went from a 3 to a 9 in about 20 minutes!  'Cause that's how I roll.  Doctor arrives, and I push for 2 hours.  Beforehand I was determined not to use any suction or anything to pull that baby out of me.  But thanks to J.J.'s GIANT HEAD, after two hours the dr. asked me and I said, "Just do whatever to GET HIM OUT!"  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8iHpXQnaI/AAAAAAAAA1c/SfZn70DjKcA/s320/Jr-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512161983682616738" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Poor thing had a swollen lump on his head afterwards but I was so out of it that I missed the worst of the swelling.  He was 8 lbs. 12 oz.  He had a little difficulty breathing so they rushed him away to the nursery and I was pretty much comatose for a couple hours.  The spinal headache, being up for over 24 hours, pushing for 2 hours...it just wiped me out.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I finally did get to see him and hold him, well...it's indescribable holding your child for the first time.  And boy oh boy, was he CUTE!  And he just keeps getting cuter.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8kV4MKW2I/AAAAAAAAA1k/4FK_iKnxR3c/s320/DSCF2172.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512164427204025186" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8kWXiy1kI/AAAAAAAAA1s/mu9QqNdGF5U/s320/DSCF2241.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512164435620451906" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8qSfIKsAI/AAAAAAAAA10/PALMSYqcGf0/s320/DSCF2766.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512170966006542338" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8qS57DIxI/AAAAAAAAA18/rVl9tIagLFs/s320/DSCF2899.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512170973199278866" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8qWO6oMsI/AAAAAAAAA2U/wdzME3iWGKs/s320/100_0155.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512171030374265538" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8qU1ROUlI/AAAAAAAAA2E/Id7wLmVFXj0/s320/DSCF3395.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512171006309847634" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8tcflWoOI/AAAAAAAAA2c/bx9wpv7-G7U/s320/100_1960.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512174436462534882" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8qVkVb40I/AAAAAAAAA2M/eDLhwpmKJ80/s320/DSCF5021.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512171018943980354" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8tdb6EEbI/AAAAAAAAA2s/BWpd8sdVaG4/s320/100_2561.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512174452655526322" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8tdvtJn2I/AAAAAAAAA20/uEO6_HmCsW0/s320/100_2612.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512174457970073442" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Man...times flies by, that's all I can say.  I love this kid so much.  He's funny, smart, artistic, silly,  caring, and determined.  He LOVES school, especially math!  For his special day he choose to eat dinner at Costco, then go play games at Chuckee Cheese!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Happy 7th Birthday J.J.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8teLijpxI/AAAAAAAAA28/EgS-PYzvVP8/s320/100_2661.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512174465441834770" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8uIy_XSRI/AAAAAAAAA3E/Sb2PE3If-Rg/s320/100_2662.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512175197586147602" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5659567538543994804?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5659567538543994804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5659567538543994804&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5659567538543994804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5659567538543994804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-baby-is-big-boy.html' title='My baby is a big boy  :('/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TH8iHP39gpI/AAAAAAAAA1U/07se-HQ1kys/s72-c/DCP_0018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-7940270096740866415</id><published>2010-08-18T18:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-18T22:47:24.474-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Roughing It</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;(warning:  VERY long post)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, the weekend before school started we went camping.  By "we", I mean me and the boys with my parents/siblings.  Poor Josh has to work.  :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was quite the adventure!  I had to buy a tent.  Then I decided I needed to set it up beforehand and seal all the seams.  Because...well...that's what the reviews said to do and I like to do my research.  Only problem was, it's over 110 degrees outside!  No way am I setting up a tent in that kind of heat.  So, we did this:&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyJFP98pUI/AAAAAAAAAws/vkZCoa1MaqQ/s320/100_2500.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506927167645984066" /&gt;Yes, that tent is huge.  It barely fit in our front room and only because we moved all the furniture to the kitchen.  I seam sealed the crap out of that bad boy.  And the fumes gave me a wicked migraine to boot!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We left Friday afternoon in order to get there, and set up camp while it was still daylight.  The drive up was faster than I expected!  Amazing you can go from 110 degree desert to 70 degree forest in only 2 hours.  My little sis Sari drove up with me and I only scared her once with my driving.  Success!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Once at camp, I started setting things up.  The tent went up with no problem and I opened the windows because it was so hot and stuffy inside.  (remember that, windows to tent are OPEN). &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Papa sent the boys to find firewood.  A task they were VERY excited about!&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyLIziO_cI/AAAAAAAAAw0/SyHz9fJulUM/s320/100_2530.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506929427756285378" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyLJQGU52I/AAAAAAAAAw8/zoFlWwkjhPc/s320/100_2522.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506929435423860578" /&gt;It doesn't matter if you don't buy toy guns for your kids, they will find ANYTHING and think it's a "shooter"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Samuel was having fun too.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyNSZiSFbI/AAAAAAAAAxE/U7b63xJk3mk/s320/Family+Campout+036.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506931791599113650" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For some reason this kid kept laying down everywhere!  Don't believe me?  Observe:&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyNSvpCU2I/AAAAAAAAAxM/yg_SIwChLz0/s320/Family+Campout+048.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506931797533021026" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yup, he's a weirdo!  But he's MY weirdo.  :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;J.J. discovered many bugs.  Unlike his mother who has an insane irrational fear of bugs, J.J. LOVES bugs.  He was in bug lover's shock when he lifted this tree stump.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGypTyKE3FI/AAAAAAAAAxs/LD6yh7Zu4bk/s320/100_2526.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506962601713917010" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After we got camp set up, Papa and Aunt Nikki tried to play horseshoes but the boys kept interfering.  Samuel especially liked the game.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyowGHpXTI/AAAAAAAAAxU/p9GvTSp8hW4/s320/Family+Campout+069.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506961988597144882" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then it was time for dinner.  How can you camp without roasting various food items on a stick?&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGypS7SnnlI/AAAAAAAAAxc/BaoU5IPVCeE/s320/Family+Campout+098.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506962586985799250" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGypTM9PmcI/AAAAAAAAAxk/OJnWs0MP0S8/s320/100_2531.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506962591727983042" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And you just HAVE to drink sugary drinks that Mommy doesn't usually buy at home.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyrEaoqBII/AAAAAAAAAyM/lj7UNUBSKK0/s320/100_2536.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506964536724948098" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyrDZOrz4I/AAAAAAAAAx8/9KrPI3frByA/s320/100_2534.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506964519167709058" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyrDyToWQI/AAAAAAAAAyE/P90n5TzBt8w/s320/100_2535.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506964525899340034" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Samuel would not sit still the entire trip until he finally found peace, sitting on Uncle Matt's lap with a Cheeto in each hand.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy4NPEgIcI/AAAAAAAAA00/ohaPohn-3pI/s320/Family+Campout+091.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506978981890499010" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The whole concept of having an open fire and being able to throw things in it was VERY exciting to my boys.  They threw in plates, forks, sticks, pretty much anything they possibly could into that fire.  Samuel didn't seem all that interested until he decided to pick up Papa's flashlight that he's had FOREVER and not throw, but PLACE it into the fire.  And then keep a hold of it.  With his hands.  And arms.  IN THE FIRE.  I don't think Mommy has ever moved that fast in her life.  Luckily he just had a little redness where his arms were resting on the metal fire ring and no serious burns.  In fact, he was more uncomfortable that Mommy made him sit down and hold an ice pack on his arms than he was when his arms were in the fire.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyrDA1RYwI/AAAAAAAAAx0/YBv1Gu1kkhQ/s320/Family+Campout+105.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506964512618668802" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mimi saved the flashlight, in case you were wondering.  And it still works, Trey made sure of that!&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy4MayHWsI/AAAAAAAAA0k/J-GFdCtvt98/s320/Family+Campout+122.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506978967854734018" /&gt;  (sigh) They just don't make things like they used to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everyone kept a pretty close eye on little Sammy after that.  But then...he wanted to walk over to Papa.  I didn't know the Dutch Oven was over there and on his way over, he stopped and PICKED UP A BURNING COAL.  Yes, you read that right.  I don't think I will ever be able to forget the image of my baby's perfect little hands wrapped around the grey ash of the coal, with the burning orange showing cracking through.  I flipped out.  Papa grabbed him in about 2 seconds and I must've looked like a chicken with its head cut off.  I remember starting to run over to Samuel, then thinking I should get some ice and running the other way, then remembering I still had that ice pack and running back to my chair to grab it, then finally getting to my baby.    I grabbed his hand and shoved it into the melty bag of ice.  I had read somewhere you should do that....and let's face it, I was panicking.  Once I got home and Googled I learned you should hold it under cool running water, no ice.  Oh well.  I guess I'll know that for next time my baby decides to pick up a burning hot coal.  Once the pain set in, Samuel screamed and screamed.  We gave him some Tylenol (at least I was prepared and brought half my medicine cabinet with me).  He was very angry we were trying to hold ice on it and that I wouldn't put him down.  He kept trying to wipe his hand on my shirt as if to wipe off the hurt.  It was very sad.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGytxV8ZuUI/AAAAAAAAAyU/7VMb684SzIM/s320/Family+Campout+121.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506967507582957890" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I finally got Samuel somewhat calmed down by walking around the campsite slowly and singing to him.  Then it started to sprinkle.  I hurried over to the pop-up shade and sat down, grateful that Samuel had calmed down.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyupPdldnI/AAAAAAAAAyc/FRybNXF3XOo/s320/Family+Campout+124.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506968467915765362" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Then it started to really pour rain.  And then it hit me...THE FRONT DOOR TO THE TENT WAS TIED OPEN!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I yelled to my dad for help and he ran over to put the rain flap down that was tied open to a tree.  (stupid design flaw on the tent)  I ran to my van and got an umbrella and ran over to the tent to help.  I knew it was too late to try to keep my dad dry, so I stood there trying to hold the umbrella over the open front door of the tent.  When suddenly it hit me...THE WINDOWS TO THE TENT WERE OPEN!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I ran around zipping them shut but it was too late.  The tent was wet, and so was most of our gear.  My sister came out and held up my lantern while I dried the tent floor with some towels I had brought.  (prepared!)  But the damage had already been done.  Most of our clothes were wet.  Luckily our sleeping bags were in the middle of the tent and I hadn't unrolled them yet.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I decided it was time to call it a night.  The boys and I prepared for bed.  I pieced together the only dry clothes I could find for each of us, and we laid down.  J.J. and Trey fell right asleep, which was surprising since it was thundering, lightning, and raining outside.  Samuel on the other hand...was wide awake!  This was surprising considering the eventful day he had had.  He was sharing my air mattress with me and we had some cute moments together.  Every time there was thunder or lightning he would reach his hands up and say, "Wassat?"  I could see him every time the lightning would flash and he just looked so darn cute.  Plus he was so cuddly when he finally fell asleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I had a nice little peaceful moment there, laying in our tent with my sleeping boys.  I REALLY missed Josh right about then.  I wish he could've come with us.  We were nice and dry in our tent (the seam sealer worked like a charm once I actually CLOSED the windows and door.)  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I however, did not sleep all night.  I was kind of expecting this since I am one of the lightest sleepers known to man.  I almost brought my white noise machine and some batteries but decided that was stupid.  Turns out, not so stupid!  I kept hearing footsteps, which I later found out were freaking cows wandering around.  Don't ask me why there were random cows in the middle of the forest.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The boys woke up at the crack of dawn, as usual.  In order to avoid waking everybody up at 5:00 A.M., we decided to go for a little nature walk.  I brought the camera along and that's when I realized another casualty of the night before.  In all the commotion of Samuel burning his hand, I left my camera on my chair.  Which in turn, got soaked in the rain before one of my siblings saw it and grabbed it.  Not sure how much damage was done but I did manage to take this cute photo.   &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyxaPK3JSI/AAAAAAAAAyk/YuMCX6hrqIQ/s320/100_2546.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506971508674077986" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we got back to camp, the boys woke everybody up and we decided to try to ride the quads.  Then it started raining.  Again.  We drove up the road a bit and the boys rode with Papa and Aunt Sari.  They got just a little bit muddy.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyxazMNmgI/AAAAAAAAAy8/FVuAERGIe5w/s320/camping+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506971518343420418" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyxavL0mmI/AAAAAAAAAy0/asn5BT8JieA/s320/camping+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506971517268040290" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I opted out since I was wearing the only dry clothes I had left.  Instead I rocked out to Tom Petty in my minivan with my sister Nikki.  'Cause we're cool like that.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyxaet3XaI/AAAAAAAAAys/MOFXJ-T0lAQ/s320/camping+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506971512847424930" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mimi and I dried some of the wet clothes for the boys once we got back to camp by turning the heater up in their camper, and my van.  We also discovered that squirrels had visited our camp.  Let's play a game.  Can you find the bag of marshmallows in this picture?&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyzPGKaXrI/AAAAAAAAAzM/1yyI4qUenHI/s320/Family+Campout+011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506973516300967602" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At this point, the rain was not letting up and we were pretty much figuring the rest of this camping trip was a bust.  The boys were bored and getting annoyed mean Mommy wouldn't let them play in the rain since we were limited in our dry clothing supply.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyzPfDZDdI/AAAAAAAAAzU/_CCoUEumiq8/s320/Family+Campout+132.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506973522982407634" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyzPwo7pTI/AAAAAAAAAzc/AtK6ff-zDk0/s320/Family+Campout+133.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506973527703266610" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, we decided to pack it up and head home.  The boys were NOT happy.  But, sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do!  And sometimes, that means packing everything up in the rain and mud.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy09YNIcpI/AAAAAAAAAz8/U_rZdeUTgBM/s320/Family+Campout+177.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506975410929824402" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy082Om3cI/AAAAAAAAAzs/kz7fhoObZyQ/s320/Family+Campout+161.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506975401809206722" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy09B9p_6I/AAAAAAAAAz0/hsTDPOBqa1c/s320/Family+Campout+136.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506975404959334306" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So anyway, the boys' first camping trip was eventful to say the least!  And we did have some good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy2-yuQyQI/AAAAAAAAA0U/icD5ajDFXUA/s200/100_2539.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506977634251229442" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy2-T47alI/AAAAAAAAA0M/OuEc22EkyB0/s200/100_2513.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506977625974467154" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy2-C4eeSI/AAAAAAAAA0E/yrQ0WCqxjS8/s200/Family+Campout+023.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506977621409167650" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy2_R_Z1vI/AAAAAAAAA0c/07hTm2aVzBw/s200/100_2537.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506977642644625138" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy457C0HJI/AAAAAAAAA08/wZZBmfVJKRc/s200/100_2548.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506979749608823954" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy5BXPFCUI/AAAAAAAAA1E/CaW4ifyTNyk/s200/Family+Campout+176.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506979877435541826" /&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 134px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGy5WkzH-mI/AAAAAAAAA1M/TvY0cMVkCqM/s200/100_2523.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506980241853643362" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So yeah...hopefully our next camping trip won't be quite so difficult!  By the way, Samuel's hand was just fine.  He had two blisters on his fingers but they are completely healed now.  What a relief!  And a nice big shout out to my sisters, I stole some of their photos off Facebook/blog.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-7940270096740866415?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/7940270096740866415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=7940270096740866415&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7940270096740866415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/7940270096740866415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/08/roughing-it.html' title='Roughing It'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TGyJFP98pUI/AAAAAAAAAws/vkZCoa1MaqQ/s72-c/100_2500.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-4207379251443895943</id><published>2010-07-17T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-17T11:24:57.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sisterly Bonding!</title><content type='html'>There are big age gaps between me and my 2 sisters.  9 and 14 years to be exact.  To be honest, I felt like more of a mother figure to them when I lived at home!  Even more mind blowing to me, my baby sister doesn't even REMEMBER me living at home.  How weird is that?  I guess she was 4 years old when I left for college but still...that's pretty weird.  &lt;p&gt;So it has always been important to me to try to strengthen the sisterly bond.  With Nikki this was pretty easy.  I was her confidante while she was in high school, her sounding board, the one she could tell anything to.  This may have been hard at times because like I said, I felt like more of a mother to her growing up.  But I would have killed to have a big sister to go to for advice when I was young and reckless!  Not that Nikki was reckless, in fact she turned out pretty dang good!  But I think you know what I mean, big sisters can be a lifesaver!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nikki and I have stayed close, especially now that she's married and lives a few miles away.  But what about Sari?  How do I forge a bond with her since I'm so old and have 3 kids?!  (let's face it, 31 years old is ANCIENT when you're 17 and have your whole life ahead of you!)   &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;First, we have officially started SISTERS' NIGHT.  What do we do at SISTERS' NIGHT?  I'll tell you what.  We do this:&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TEHzPxb_kHI/AAAAAAAAAwU/GFF96GX27BA/s320/100_2377.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494940472663052402" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's right, we have Easy Cheese fun!  Just look at this work of art by yours truly:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TEHzG0kzqCI/AAAAAAAAAwM/KBWF5PyO1TI/s320/100_2375.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494940318886504482" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My name was so long I had to use a double waffle pretzel.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then we do fun things like watch the best movies ever.  Like this little gem:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TEH0EeUY_jI/AAAAAAAAAwc/tRXLpcxweH8/s320/whitewolves.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494941378063957554" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That my friends, is one of the best movies ever made.  Don't believe me?  Watch it!  (if you can find it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, my point is this.  Huge age gaps mean NOTHING when it comes to your sisters being your best friends!  All you need is some Easy Cheese, and a cheesy movie.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-4207379251443895943?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/4207379251443895943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=4207379251443895943&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4207379251443895943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/4207379251443895943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/07/sisterly-bonding.html' title='Sisterly Bonding!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TEHzPxb_kHI/AAAAAAAAAwU/GFF96GX27BA/s72-c/100_2377.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3027806846018529902</id><published>2010-07-15T18:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T19:25:43.784-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime and the living is NOT easy...</title><content type='html'>In fact, it has been kind of stressful!  &lt;p&gt;sometime between 5:30-6:30: The boys wake up with a vengeance.   I long for the day when they will sleep in.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:30-10:00:  A lot of yelling, screaming, fighting, watching cartoons, eating as much cereal as humanly possible, and spilling as much cereal as humanly possible ALL over the place.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sometime before 10:00: I do laundry, dishes, vacuuming, general cleaning of messes, breaking up of fights, etc.  I also run.  Oh dear sweet treadmill, how I hate you.  But running outside in AZ summer weather is not an option.&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TD--dqisKmI/AAAAAAAAAvs/hhT6r0YDyJo/s320/treadmill.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494319487260568162" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10:00: I pull my hair out while I get all 3 boys ready for swimming lessons.  Swimsuits, sunblock, towels, ear plugs, blah blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;10:35-11:05: Swimming lessons.  "S" proceeds to scream and refuse to do anything he's supposed to do in our "Mommy &amp;amp; Me" swimming class.  But at least I'm in the water and not sweating poolside!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TD-_O8BR92I/AAAAAAAAAv0/WlgkRQxL4RU/s320/100_2378.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494320333765867362" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;(Yes, I swear that giant floppy hat, and nothing less than SPF 50 at all times.  I'm anti-tanning.  I don't care if I look ridiculous!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;11:00-12:00: I take the boys to the junior high across the street from the pool to FREE LUNCH for kids under age 18!  Yes, the food is disgusting, but it's free.  The boys call it the "restaurant" and they LOVE it.  Probably because they've only been to a real restaurant a couple of times in their lives.  &lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TD_AO64kw4I/AAAAAAAAAv8/t2nVSkJJohs/s320/100_2379.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494321432972542850" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TD_APb6hGoI/AAAAAAAAAwE/L-5Mq2kNnBU/s320/100_2369.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494321441839061634" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;12:00 - 1:00:  Rush home and I shower.  Boys get dressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1:00:  I take "B" to his summer camp program.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1:15:  Rush home, put "T" and "S" down for a nap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1:30 - 3:00:  I transcribe my fingers off, and try not to fall asleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3:00-5:30:  "T" and "S" wake up and yell, scream, fight, watch cartoons and make messes while I try to finish my transcription work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5:30:  Load up "T" and "S", go pick up "B" from his summer day camp program.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:00:  Think to myself, CRAP it's dinnertime!  Throw something together and feed my family.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6:30 - 7:30:  More screaming/fighting/mess-making.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7:30:  BEDTIME!!  Oh sweet sweet bedtime.  How do I love thee?  Let me count the ways.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I love how it's finally QUIET!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p.s. 27 days till school starts&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3027806846018529902?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3027806846018529902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3027806846018529902&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3027806846018529902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3027806846018529902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/07/summertime-and-living-is-not-easy.html' title='Summertime and the living is NOT easy...'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/TD--dqisKmI/AAAAAAAAAvs/hhT6r0YDyJo/s72-c/treadmill.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8922156838129436723</id><published>2010-06-30T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T18:23:36.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Halfway Mark</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Well, I've had a few ideas for blog posts this summer but it's been SO nuts with the boys home, I can never remember the ideas once I'm actually at the computer!  (By the way, 42 days till school starts again.  Not that I'm counting down or anything...)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;However, it is June 30th today and I know you are all dying for a mid-point status update on my New Year's resolutions!!  No?  Well, you're getting one anyway.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1.  Even with taking a 3 month break from pretty much all physical activity (I think I ran like 3 times during that whole lazy stretch), I still am right on target for my goal of 500 miles this year!  Good thing I gave myself some leeway right?  As of today, I have run 255 miles.  Also, I did my fastest run last night.  Granted, I was trying to squeeze a quick workout in while my husband went to pick up Domino's pizza...but still!  Maybe that was even more motivation since I knew I'd soon be stuffing my face.  Anyway, I ran 3 miles in 25:45 minutes.  All of you serious runners out there can stop laughing now!!  That was good for me.  I'm no sprinter.  I ran 6 miles straight last Saturday but I won't be breaking any speed records EVER.  But I'm okay with that! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As far as my other NYR's go, I'm plodding along.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2.  I've read a couple more Jane Austen books and I'm about to start another, so that's moving along nicely.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3.  Reading the Book of Mormon, I'm plodding along nicely on that also.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4.  Writing in my blog once a week?  HAHA!  Well you guys know how that's going.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;5.  Writing in journal?  No.  I know this sounds weird but I mostly remember to write in my journal when things are going really crappy.  And honestly, I don't want to record that.  It's bad enough living it in real life, I don't need to rehash it and write it down, then be able to go back and re-live it.  But that's a bad excuse.  Plenty of good things happen in my life too and I DO want to record that!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6.  Food storage/emergency preparedness...well it's always on my mind but I have yet to do anything about it.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;7.  And lastly, spending quality time with the kids.  I'm trying on this one, I really am!  I do things with the kids but what I need to focus more on is actually ENJOYING the moment, rather than thinking of the 5,000 other things I still need to do around the house/at work.  They're growing up too fast as it is...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8922156838129436723?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8922156838129436723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8922156838129436723&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8922156838129436723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8922156838129436723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/06/halfway-mark.html' title='Halfway Mark'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1509978085648317034</id><published>2010-05-23T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-23T13:20:22.704-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunglasses</title><content type='html'>I was looking through pictures on my computer the other day and saw blog post ideas dating from last Christmas!  I'll spare you the Christmas and Valentine's posts though and just go with an Easter post.  Easter wasn't that long ago though right?  My boys made out pretty well this year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHK0nnNdI/AAAAAAAAAuo/pzgAKVhqSxw/s1600/100_2137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHK0nnNdI/AAAAAAAAAuo/pzgAKVhqSxw/s320/100_2137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474555442038781394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Easter Bunny likes to go a little overboard sometimes.  Also every year he brings the boys sunglasses.  Not sure what is up with that.  I have pictures from 2003 but not on this computer and I'm too lazy to find them all.  Let's just start with 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMCQ_u5QI/AAAAAAAAAvA/mpsTvSGrsYI/s1600/DSCF3210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMCQ_u5QI/AAAAAAAAAvA/mpsTvSGrsYI/s320/DSCF3210.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474560792595457282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;2008&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMC_RSmlI/AAAAAAAAAvI/VGihBstgzxM/s1600/DSCF4467.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMC_RSmlI/AAAAAAAAAvI/VGihBstgzxM/s320/DSCF4467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474560805017131602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMDVYCNYI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/LaFVaPt1cZA/s1600/DSCF4482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMDVYCNYI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/LaFVaPt1cZA/s320/DSCF4482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474560810950997378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;2009&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMD8TedbI/AAAAAAAAAvY/OQuNx7iWQxo/s1600/crop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mMD8TedbI/AAAAAAAAAvY/OQuNx7iWQxo/s320/crop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474560821400860082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;2010&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHLAOxzoI/AAAAAAAAAuw/SssoOaeada0/s1600/100_2147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHLAOxzoI/AAAAAAAAAuw/SssoOaeada0/s320/100_2147.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474555445155843714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, my boys look great in sunglasses don't they?  Maybe one of these years Samuel will actually cooperate and be in the yearly sunglasses picture without Mommy having to force him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other happenings, I got new glasses.  I'm not sure what I think about them.  They are WAY out of my comfort zone (which is boring) and I felt like doing something different.  When I came home from picking them up and showed the boys, "B" said, "You look like an old lady."  haha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHK0nnNdI/AAAAAAAAAuo/pzgAKVhqSxw/s1600/100_2137.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHLmlrykI/AAAAAAAAAu4/OLCczl4qlv0/s1600/100_2159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHLmlrykI/AAAAAAAAAu4/OLCczl4qlv0/s320/100_2159.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474555455452465730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1509978085648317034?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1509978085648317034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1509978085648317034&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1509978085648317034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1509978085648317034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/05/sunglasses.html' title='Sunglasses'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S_mHK0nnNdI/AAAAAAAAAuo/pzgAKVhqSxw/s72-c/100_2137.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8708775473297109293</id><published>2010-05-13T21:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T22:32:10.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My heart will always be in Utah...</title><content type='html'>I had the chance to go to Utah a couple weeks ago...BY MYSELF.  Yes, you read that right.  J was ever so kind as to watch our 3 boys while I drove up for my cousin's wedding, and to see as many family and friends as I could squeeze into 2 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad drove up with me.  I love my dad.  He is the best.  We talked the entire 10 hours up, and 10 hours back.  It made the trip fly by!  He's always been easy to talk to and we had a lot of fun discussing things like politics.  (haha...)  He tends to be pretty conservative and I have a tendency to lean the left on certain issues.  (gasp!)  Yup, this Mormon girl has some liberal tendencies, I admit it.  Not enough to call myself a Democrat or a Republican though.  I don't like labels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was happy my dad came with me because we drove through A LOT of this:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zSMRStH5I/AAAAAAAAAs4/AWVEETXKTZY/s1600/100_2254.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zSMRStH5I/AAAAAAAAAs4/AWVEETXKTZY/s320/100_2254.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470978755590430610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I did go to 4 years of college in Utah but my dad was raised in Utah.  So I was happy to make him drive through all the freaky snowy weather in May!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My cousin's wedding was awesome.  She was beautiful and even though she must've been freezing in the freaky snowstorm, she was so happy I'm not sure she really felt it!  I also got to stay with my grandparents in Ogden, who I LOVE.  My g'pa had a recent battle with cancer and it has really just hit home with me lately that I am lucky to have 4 grandmas and 3 grandpas still living!  (yes those numbers are right. divorce/death/remarriage did some tricky things!)  Anyway, I just really want to take every opportunity to spend time with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zUMC5S_yI/AAAAAAAAAtI/g2-PlczXOEI/s1600/100_2219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zUMC5S_yI/AAAAAAAAAtI/g2-PlczXOEI/s320/100_2219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470980950749019938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In between the wedding/luncheon and the reception in Bountiful, I had a few hours to kill.  So I made the most of them by visiting my 8 day old nephew!  I held this angelic baby for about 3 hours while he slept.  He was the sweetest thing...  It almost made me want another baby.  But then I had only to look over at my poor sleep-deprived sis-in-law, and hear her tell of the sleepless nights and toddler adjustments to a new baby in the family...and just like THAT I remembered why we're done having kids!   Poor L...I felt bad being there because her daughter K was napping, the baby was sleeping...I should have made her go take a nap too!  But we had a fun visit and K even let me give her a hug and sat on my lap for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zVq5Zb6PI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/Mi3C47CPWXM/s1600/crop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zVq5Zb6PI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/Mi3C47CPWXM/s320/crop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470982580287039730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then it was back to the reception and more visiting with family, and laughing while random people asked to take a picture with Chuck Norris.  I mean my dad - same difference right?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zcQ0BOFtI/AAAAAAAAAuY/MtqI_85dUjM/s1600/100_2223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zcQ0BOFtI/AAAAAAAAAuY/MtqI_85dUjM/s320/100_2223.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470989828748089042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was packed.  It started off at the Carl's Jr. in American Fork.  I met an old friend and his girlfriend there!  This is more than an old friend, he was my husband's roommate while we were dating, we took him to the MTC before he left on his mission, he has lived with us two separate times over the years!  J and I joke that he's our long lost adult son.  It's been a couple years since we've seen him so it was nice to visit with him for a couple minutes and meet his girlfriend.  (I highly approve BTW!)  They were actually on their way out of town and were nice enough to stop by and say hello.  Thanks guys!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zgHEoUW4I/AAAAAAAAAug/LfbxLVSUyW4/s1600/100_2228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zgHEoUW4I/AAAAAAAAAug/LfbxLVSUyW4/s320/100_2228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470994059454864258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Still at Carl's Jr., I was able to visit with my bio-father and my brother.  Poor Brian had just gotten out of the hospital a few days before and is on oxygen.  He has also been battling cancer the last few years.  He wasn't feeling too well but has always been a trooper and came out to see me anyway.  It was nice to see them, I haven't seen them in about 4 years!  I admit I was kind of grossed out to be at Carl's Jr. so early in the morning...I'm not much of a breakfast fast food fan.  But then I was treated to some sort of strawberry biscuit thing and it was surprisingly GOOD!  Thanks guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zXaFMWVVI/AAAAAAAAAtg/ZNmBlmUZrIQ/s1600/100_2230.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zXaFMWVVI/AAAAAAAAAtg/ZNmBlmUZrIQ/s320/100_2230.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470984490418853202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then I made a quick stopover to meet an internet friend!  Yup, I'm a dork and have friends I've never met in real life.  She was awesome.  I'd post a pic but neither one of us like the pictures we took.  Anyway, she was a sweetheart and brought me some cakebites from The Sweet Tooth Fairy!  I have read a lot about that place on different blogs and secretly always wanted to try it out!  How could she have known?  I guess that's why we're friends.  Plus she had no problem meeting me somewhere where they had FRY SAUCE.  I crave that stuff and it's nowhere to be found in AZ that I know of.  :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was visiting with my bio-father and brother, I talked to my aunt on my brother's phone and realized my Grandpa Black and Grandma Susan were still in town!  I thought they had already left for Nauvoo, IL.  They go almost every summer for church missions, since my Grandma is a pretty well-known church historian/author/speaker.  Anyway, I called them and it turned out they were leaving the next morning, but were nice enough to let me stop by!  Grandma was even in the middle of cleaning her fridge but still took time out to visit.  We had a nice chat, and I got this awesome book about my grandpa's life.  See, he ALSO had a battle with cancer the last few years, and he and Grandma Susan wrote a history of his life, published it, and gave it to all family members.  I came home and immediately read it cover to cover.  I don't know very much about my biological father's side of the family, seeing as how I was adopted and raised by my step-dad when I was 5. It really meant a lot to me to finally learn more about that side of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zY2qcleoI/AAAAAAAAAto/mU_pC33gS7c/s1600/100_2236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zY2qcleoI/AAAAAAAAAto/mU_pC33gS7c/s320/100_2236.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470986080967031426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There were a couple more people in Provo I wanted to see but sadly ran out of time.  On the way out of town I drove past my favorite places and snapped some pics.  Have I said this before?  I LOVE UTAH.  I love mountains, old buildings, old houses, the snow, all of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zZtaEkjJI/AAAAAAAAAuA/Fl9SGgeFWfY/s1600/100_2247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zZtaEkjJI/AAAAAAAAAuA/Fl9SGgeFWfY/s200/100_2247.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470987021464145042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zZs_DPRdI/AAAAAAAAAt4/ge5MpPCEBco/s1600/100_2244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zZs_DPRdI/AAAAAAAAAt4/ge5MpPCEBco/s200/100_2244.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470987014210799058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zZsWOhQSI/AAAAAAAAAtw/Hyvm9LL2aS4/s1600/100_2241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zZsWOhQSI/AAAAAAAAAtw/Hyvm9LL2aS4/s200/100_2241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470987003252261154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then drove back up north to see my old roommate LIZ!  I have missed this girl.  Sometimes you meet somebody in life that you just GET, and they GET you.  Does that make sense?  Anyway, that's how I feel about Liz.  She and her hubby treated me to lunch at Olive Garden, and it was delicious.  (thanks guys!)  After I got over the shock of Liz not drinking a Coke (she is infamous for her love of Coke), I had the best time hanging out with them!  Liz is pregnant with twins (explains the no Coke) and I just found out today she had them!  They are adorable, like I knew they would be.  Hopefully it's not another 8 years before I see Liz again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zbJK1JoEI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/t2-PmQvfPTg/s1600/100_2249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zbJK1JoEI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/t2-PmQvfPTg/s320/100_2249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470988597920899138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then it was back up to Ogden to visit more with my grandparents.  Dad and I were up bright and early to drive back to AZ.  But not before Grandpa made me drink some orange juice and Grandma made me eat a muffin.  I love those two...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was a great trip!  I missed my boys and J but honestly, I needed this little getaway.  We all deserve it now and then right?  And Utah is like medicine for me.  I need those mountains and green trees and four seasons and old buildings with history just as bad as I need Relpax to survive.  Since I can't live there, I need to at least see those things every couple of years.  I would move back there in a second if I could.  Can somebody please offer J a great job out there please?  Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8708775473297109293?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8708775473297109293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8708775473297109293&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8708775473297109293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8708775473297109293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-heart-will-always-be-in-utah.html' title='My heart will always be in Utah...'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S-zSMRStH5I/AAAAAAAAAs4/AWVEETXKTZY/s72-c/100_2254.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-3533487840885136505</id><published>2010-04-27T19:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T19:38:42.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Exhibit A</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Evidence I have all boys:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S9efjNM42hI/AAAAAAAAAsw/L4ToRvQOybM/s1600/100_2197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S9efjNM42hI/AAAAAAAAAsw/L4ToRvQOybM/s320/100_2197.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465012100025342482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is what was at the bottom of my washing machine when I transferred  clothes to the dryer yesterday.  After an initial panic attack...I  realized it's only rubber.  I guess I can add this to the list of things  I've found in their jean pockets while doing laundry.&lt;br /&gt;Along with:&lt;br /&gt;rocks&lt;br /&gt;sand&lt;br /&gt;seeds&lt;br /&gt;acorns&lt;br /&gt;pop  tabs&lt;br /&gt;leaves&lt;br /&gt;random garbage they find on the street&lt;br /&gt;rubber  lizards&lt;br /&gt;gum (a personal favorite)&lt;br /&gt;pencils&lt;br /&gt;stickers&lt;br /&gt;suckers/candy&lt;br /&gt;pennies&lt;br /&gt;buttons&lt;br /&gt;and  now...RUBBER SPIDERS&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-3533487840885136505?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/3533487840885136505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=3533487840885136505&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3533487840885136505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/3533487840885136505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/04/exhibit.html' title='Exhibit A'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S9efjNM42hI/AAAAAAAAAsw/L4ToRvQOybM/s72-c/100_2197.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1274724370835402131</id><published>2010-04-14T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T12:51:27.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What of it?</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, I put my kids on leashes.  Yup, I'm one of "those" moms.  Maybe before I had kids I may have looked at moms with kids on leashes and thought, "Huh...that's weird."  But once I actually HAD 3 boys trying to run off in all directions, I decided that I would like to kiss the person who invented the kid leash. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I am cool and bought a leash disguised as a backpack, disguised as an animal.  That way I can trick others into thinking it's not cruel and unusual punishment that I'm walking my child through the park on a leash.  I love the easy of simply unhooking the "monkey tail/leash" off the "backpack/safety harness" and letting him play freely.  Then when it's time to go and he tries to run off, I simply click that bad boy on again and drag him out of the park screaming and crying against his will. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And people wonder why I don't want a dog?  I don't need one!  I have kids!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1274724370835402131?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1274724370835402131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1274724370835402131&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1274724370835402131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1274724370835402131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/04/what-of-it.html' title='What of it?'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-5638983669292799876</id><published>2010-04-08T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T13:50:41.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lollipop Guild?  NO!!!</title><content type='html'>If there is one movie I hate more than anything in this world, it's The Wizard of Oz.  I've never sat and watched the whole thing through, that's how much I hate it.  (Second most hated movie =  Alice in Wonderland)  So you can imagine how I felt when my dear husband J compared our youngest son to the "Lollipop Guild".  I immediately denied it, but couldn't deny the similarities when the evidence was staring me in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Lollipop Guild:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S74_dishjQI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/fhyM1TS_xbs/s1600/WizardLollipop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 262px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S74_dishjQI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/fhyM1TS_xbs/s320/WizardLollipop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457869575181929730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My ADORABLE baby boy, S:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S74_xm4fa6I/AAAAAAAAAsY/J6sWiUzIZNg/s1600/100_2071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S74_xm4fa6I/AAAAAAAAAsY/J6sWiUzIZNg/s320/100_2071.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457869919903247266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S75BVpW2jYI/AAAAAAAAAsg/O2vcxXyvs3Y/s1600/100_1800.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S75BVpW2jYI/AAAAAAAAAsg/O2vcxXyvs3Y/s320/100_1800.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457871638554381698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(sigh)...Poor S and his giant forehead and receding hairline.  I'm sorry son, I really am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-5638983669292799876?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/5638983669292799876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=5638983669292799876&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5638983669292799876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/5638983669292799876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/04/lollipop-guild-no.html' title='Lollipop Guild?  NO!!!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S74_dishjQI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/fhyM1TS_xbs/s72-c/WizardLollipop.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8763344596953986709</id><published>2010-04-02T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T15:11:30.482-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aw...he's a real boy now.</title><content type='html'>"B" lost his front tooth last week.  He doesn't look like my baby boy anymore.  He's all grown up.  Next thing I know he'll be graduating high school, going on a mission, and going to college.  (I hope anyway.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's been working on this tooth for awhile.  I was scared to pull it out.  It just...freaks me out.  And "J" wasn't any better, he refused to pull it out too.  So when "B" came home from school, this is what his tooth looked like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bucktooth B&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7ZpgZMTB0I/AAAAAAAAArw/yQxhAoYQ4G0/s1600/100_2104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7ZpgZMTB0I/AAAAAAAAArw/yQxhAoYQ4G0/s320/100_2104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455664003845130050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I had to get one more picture of my baby-toothed boy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7Zpg12aTrI/AAAAAAAAAr4/4qI3l6ZIWkk/s1600/100_2102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7Zpg12aTrI/AAAAAAAAAr4/4qI3l6ZIWkk/s320/100_2102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455664011537960626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was freaked out that I was pulling his tooth out.  I wish I was smart and could post the video, because his facial expression was hilarious!  He didn't even realize I had pulled it out until I was holding it in front of his face.  But I'm not smart so sadly, you will never see that video. &lt;br /&gt;But here's the after shot!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7ZphKQh9uI/AAAAAAAAAsA/F8C_fe8WWFY/s1600/100_2108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7ZphKQh9uI/AAAAAAAAAsA/F8C_fe8WWFY/s320/100_2108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455664017016223458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then of course we had to get a drink with a straw, because what fun is it losing your front tooth if you can't put the straw through the hole right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7Zphm8GT3I/AAAAAAAAAsI/sed2rq8iNEg/s1600/100_2109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7Zphm8GT3I/AAAAAAAAAsI/sed2rq8iNEg/s320/100_2109.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455664024715153266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8763344596953986709?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8763344596953986709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8763344596953986709&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8763344596953986709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8763344596953986709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/04/awhes-real-boy-now.html' title='Aw...he&apos;s a real boy now.'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7ZpgZMTB0I/AAAAAAAAArw/yQxhAoYQ4G0/s72-c/100_2104.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2944811493746714606</id><published>2010-03-31T21:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T22:12:22.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Photo Tag Thing</title><content type='html'>My friend Angela tagged me on this and it looked intriguing.  Will I honestly post the correct picture?  Hmmm...maybe not since they are all out of focus.  But it will be the 10th picture in the first of my photo folders that isn't blurry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="post-body entry-content"&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;br /&gt;1. Open your first  photo folder&lt;br /&gt;2. Scroll to the 10th photo.&lt;br /&gt;3. Post the photo &amp;amp;  the story behind it.&lt;br /&gt;4. Tag 5 or more people.&lt;!-- spacer for skins that want sidebar and main to be the same height--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7QpXZfKoRI/AAAAAAAAArg/WIgjrOnH6LU/s1600/DSCF3082.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7QpXZfKoRI/AAAAAAAAArg/WIgjrOnH6LU/s320/DSCF3082.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455030530607849746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These are my siblings.  Clearly in this picture, my brother is expecting his first baby and we are all have very mixed emotions about it. Sari and Nikki are excited, Steven is...creepy, Derek is contemplative, and I am nostalgic.  Yes, 2006 was a great year for the Wamsley family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sometimes we take normal pictures too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7Qpns7lUbI/AAAAAAAAAro/youU6ln6iuc/s1600/crop.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7Qpns7lUbI/AAAAAAAAAro/youU6ln6iuc/s320/crop.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455030810705220018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just look at those square smiles.  Such a strong family resemblance no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, here I go. &lt;br /&gt;1.  &lt;a href="http://twopeasinaspacepod.blogspot.com/"&gt;Nikki&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Leisa&lt;br /&gt;3.  &lt;a href="http://myglobofblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mary&lt;/a&gt; (I just started reading her blog and I highly recommend it.)&lt;br /&gt;4.  &lt;a href="http://blahblahblahblahgg.blogspot.com/"&gt;Derek&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  Alicia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2944811493746714606?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2944811493746714606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2944811493746714606&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2944811493746714606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2944811493746714606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/photo-tag-thing.html' title='Photo Tag Thing'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7QpXZfKoRI/AAAAAAAAArg/WIgjrOnH6LU/s72-c/DSCF3082.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-439483454595134016</id><published>2010-03-31T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T15:28:40.834-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm very pretty.</title><content type='html'>Today while in line at Costco for hot dogs, a very stooped, very old man walked up behind me.  He glanced at me, did a double take, and then said, "Well, you're very pretty!"  I thanked him, probably blushed, and then...didn't know what to do.  For the next 10 minutes I stared straight ahead and felt awkward while he snorted, grunted, and sounded like he was having trouble breathing behind me.  Poor guy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, it kind of made my day in a weird sort of way.  I mean of course "J" tell me I'm pretty but he's my husband, I think he sort of has to right?  I mean I know he means it but still, he would probably tell me I'm pretty even if I wasn't.  (Thanks honey!)  But coming from a stranger, even an old man, was surprisingly flattering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Old Costco Man!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-439483454595134016?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/439483454595134016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=439483454595134016&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/439483454595134016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/439483454595134016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/im-very-pretty.html' title='I&apos;m very pretty.'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-2846016252104022173</id><published>2010-03-30T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T11:36:14.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alstroemeria anyone?</title><content type='html'>My son "S" will not eat.  He is my runt of my litter of boys.  They all came out the same, all 8 lbs. and some odd ounces.  But my older two were HUGE babies.  See?  Just look at "T"'s chubs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7JEMZy02mI/AAAAAAAAArQ/f3yOmaiYzto/s1600/DSCF2222.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7JEMZy02mI/AAAAAAAAArQ/f3yOmaiYzto/s320/DSCF2222.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454497078572276322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's my baby "S".  He won't eat any of the foods that most 2 1/2 year olds like.  No chicken nuggets, no mac n' cheese, no pizza!  No PB&amp;amp;J sandwiches, no spaghetti, no hot dogs, no meat of any kind, and nothing with bread.  Seriously, this kid drives me crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will eat:  applesauce, yogurt, some dry cereal, crackers, pretzels, bananas, and raisins.  That's pretty much it.  Oh yes and let's not forget chips and candy, he LOVES that junk.  Mean old mom won't let him have that though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So imagine my surprise when today while I was loading my groceries on the belt at the checkout line, when I turn around and see him happily eating this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7JCtjnN7TI/AAAAAAAAArA/GrrnR8jOzlY/s1600/alstroemeria-hybrid-princess-rebecca.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7JCtjnN7TI/AAAAAAAAArA/GrrnR8jOzlY/s320/alstroemeria-hybrid-princess-rebecca.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454495449120369970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"S" was happily plucking the petals off an alstroemeria flower bunch and eating them like candy.  Hopefully it's not poisonous.  I caught him with one petal hanging out of his mouth and tried to pull it out and he was like a pit bull with that flower petal!  Would NOT let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, I guess I have one more thing I can add to his daily menu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-2846016252104022173?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/2846016252104022173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=2846016252104022173&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2846016252104022173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/2846016252104022173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/alstroemeria-anyone.html' title='Alstroemeria anyone?'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S7JEMZy02mI/AAAAAAAAArQ/f3yOmaiYzto/s72-c/DSCF2222.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8136926992919406594</id><published>2010-03-26T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T09:18:03.965-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I live to disappoint!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday on the way to T-Ball practice:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B:  Mommy, what is that fun store!  It says "Kids, Inc." on it!  Can we go?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  No.  It's not a store, it's a daycare.&lt;br /&gt;B:  Oh.  What's a daycare?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Well, you know how Mommy works at home on the computer every day?&lt;br /&gt;B:  Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  I do that so I can stay home with you guys.  Some mommies and daddies can't work at home,  so they have to take their kids to daycare to be taken care of while they're at work.&lt;br /&gt;B:  You mean they get to go there everyday?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yup. &lt;br /&gt;B:  Oh...  Wow, they're so lucky!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy that my sacrifices are being appreciated.  After all, who cares that my college degree is completely wasted and I'm working a menial low-paying job at home?  My reward is that I'm keeping my kids from having FUN at daycare!  mwahahaha...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8136926992919406594?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8136926992919406594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8136926992919406594&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8136926992919406594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8136926992919406594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-live-to-disappoint.html' title='I live to disappoint!'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-8030584534154796521</id><published>2010-03-23T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T11:39:56.557-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do this:</title><content type='html'>Go &lt;a href="http://www.thekingandiblog.com/p/blogging-questionnaire.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and do what she tells you, and you might win a $100 GC to Target!  I'll do just about anything to win a GC to Target.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-8030584534154796521?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/8030584534154796521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=8030584534154796521&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8030584534154796521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/8030584534154796521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/do-this.html' title='Do this:'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-1785122335868585729</id><published>2010-03-22T20:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T21:19:17.268-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life is a Joke</title><content type='html'>Let me tell you a tale...sadly, a tale that has been told &lt;a href="http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2008/09/out-of-gas.html"&gt;before&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, there was a mother of 3 boys.  She had been sick all day, hadn't eaten since the night before.  She had a lot on her plate, always does.  After a crazy busy day, she had 3 things left to do.  Pick up a prescription at Target, get gas in the van, and take her son "B" to T-Ball practice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she rushed rushed rushed out the door, like she always does.  Made pretty good time too!  Was happy to see she was leaving Target a little after 5:00 with prescription in hand, and had just enough time to stop by Costco for gas, which was literally ONE MILE away.  For once, she was going to make it to T-Ball in plenty of time.  Even more miraculous, all 3 boys were behaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then...something happened.  Something that had happened to this mother before.  Something she swore would never happen again.  Something that made her feel TOTALLY and COMPLETELY stupid.  She ran...out...of...gas.  Ran out of gas, WITHIN SIGHT of Costco.  Literally, a 3 minute walk away from Costco. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor harried mother steered her sad minivan over and drifted to the side of the road.  She turned off the engine and thought, "My life is a joke."  But then she realized, she had no time to ponder her predicament.  Action is what was needed!  She had 3 boys in a vehicle on the side of a busy road!  She said, "Boys!  Get out.  We're walking to Costco!"  She put her hazards on, got out, and resisted the urge to flip off stupid careless drivers whizzing past her and her 3 children outside of her obviously disabled minivan.  After all, who could be bothered to at least pull over and see if she needed help?  She grabbed her stroller and took off towards the Costco, kids in tow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About halfway there, what should happen, but a policeman pulled over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman:  Ma'am, is that your minivan back there? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Yes, it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman:  Well, you can't leave it there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  (resisting urge to be a smart mouth) Yes I know, it ran out of gas.  I pulled it over as far as I could and put the hazards on.  I'm heading to Costco to see what I can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman:  Well, you need to push the van off the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  I can't, it's heavy and it's just me and my 3 boys.  (gestures, as if this weren't obvious?)  Nobody was pulling over to help and I figured I needed to do something, so I'm walking to Costco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman:  Do you have a Costco card?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Yes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Policeman:  Well, we need to go back to the van and I'll help you push it off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom:  Okay.  (gritting teeth...thinking about T-Ball practice that starts in 20 minutes.  Wonders WHY she is still worrying about T-Ball practice when she's in this predicament?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After returning to the van, the nice policeman realizes there IS nowhere to push the van further off the road, something that our little mother already knew but nicely bit her tongue to avoid pointing out.  The policeman then pulled his cruiser behind the minivan with his overheads on, and informed this poor mother that he had radioed the fire department.  Mother is wishing the ground would swallow her whole at this point.  Police?  Fire Department?  Could this GET any more ridiculous?!  Mother wonders, when will she learn to just fill up her gas tank and avoid this situation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our mom then spends 45 minutes entertaining her boys by playing "hide the toy plastic lizard in the desert landscaping and find it".  The fire truck arrives!  Her boys are bursting with little boy excitement.  It's not a big engine (thank goodness), but a small "connector" truck.  The nice fire fighters put a gallon in the tank, hand out stickers and water bottles to the boys, and send poor mother on her way.  Mother makes beeline for Costco and fills up gas tank.  (There's no line!  It's a miracle!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother drives to T-Ball practice.  "B" makes it for the last 10 minutes.  Mother comes home, serves boys Chef Boyardee and toast for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The End.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-1785122335868585729?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/1785122335868585729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=1785122335868585729&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1785122335868585729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/1785122335868585729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-life-is-joke.html' title='My Life is a Joke'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3760782692935972587.post-6796840287179243878</id><published>2010-03-18T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T13:11:53.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Green Green and more Green</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a major holiday in the Larsen household, St. Patrick's Day.  As B told me, "I'm so happy today because it's a holiday!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did the usual, green waffles, green milk, wearing green head to toe, playing with all green toys. Each of the boys also grew their own clovers, which unfortunately did not reach full clover status by St. Patrick's Day, but are lucky nonetheless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S6KIOcpjc7I/AAAAAAAAAqo/WAE6ZdBadnQ/s1600-h/100_2095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S6KIOcpjc7I/AAAAAAAAAqo/WAE6ZdBadnQ/s320/100_2095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450068280861750194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Even the biggest leprechaun got in on the action!  I got pinched while I was making the waffles because I hadn't had time to change from my PJ's.  Apparently having green eyes does NOT save you from St. Patty's Day pinching.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3760782692935972587-6796840287179243878?l=azlarsens.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/feeds/6796840287179243878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3760782692935972587&amp;postID=6796840287179243878&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6796840287179243878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3760782692935972587/posts/default/6796840287179243878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://azlarsens.blogspot.com/2010/03/green-green-and-more-green.html' title='Green Green and more Green'/><author><name>AZ Larsens</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09912238915959771658</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/Sv9Kxz8xVoI/AAAAAAAAAmI/yFgTc3R7Res/S220/JCP01.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxfJKXBssOE/S6KIOcpjc7I/AAAAAAAAAqo/WAE6ZdBadnQ/s72-c/100_2095.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
