tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3867478669620895572024-03-18T22:01:28.554-07:00Taylor and KacieUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger34125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-22191177470826777582012-11-04T14:36:00.000-08:002012-11-04T14:36:16.537-08:00Halloween and a chipped tooth <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: center;">For Liv's first Halloween, it was only fitting for her to be a lion since that is pretty much her signature. She has been able to do the lion noise since she was 7 months old and hasn't stopped since. I was late on finding a lion costume so I figured I'd just make one. Here is her mane and boots along with a tutu and a tail. The only problem was she completely hated it. Wouldn't even wear the mane for a picture. Maybe next year, right?</span><br />
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When she fell asleep I painted her face. She smeared it a bit in the process, but I was all by myself just laughing as I did it. Until I accidentally woke her up. Then it wasn't funny anymore. </div>
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This expresses her sentiments perfectly about how she felt about her costume. So glad you liked it, Liv. I only spent hours and hours making it. : )<br />
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Here are two of my favorite people ever. My neighbor Amanda and my friend Katie at our ward Halloween party. We are all in Young Women's and we were over the party this year.<br />
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Katie again. Liv and I went as the circus...I was the ring master and she was the lion. Taylor had to leave out of town at like 2am so he wasn't feeling up to dress up in his 'World's Strongest Man' costume. <br />
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How darling are my beehives? I just love them!<br />
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This is me chipping my tooth this week--literally doing nothing. I was sitting at the computer at 11pm and it just fell out. I must have done something earlier that weakened it--like enduring pregnancy and throwing up 2.3 million times. It doesn't look bad in this picture, but it really was. The entire front of my tooth is chipped off (not all the way through). So weird, but I got it fixed asap!</div>
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You can't even tell I had it fixed! What a dentist, that Dr. Ellis is. <br />
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Also, I would post more of this weeks events...oh like me having to go to InstaCare over an ingrown toenail (again). Gross. And me getting the stomach flu. Both are photos you really don't want to see.<br />
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Liv's bday post coming soon! Taylor was out of town on Thursday for her birthday, so we are celebrating tonight. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-86627255654627041242012-09-23T20:15:00.000-07:002012-09-23T20:15:26.018-07:00Pretty WomanI recently had an encounter that reminded me of this classic scene:<br />
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Here's what really happened: Taylor and I were heading to Mississippi for the weekend. I'd read the forecast and it predicted rain. Lots of it. Since we were going to be outside at a football game, I headed over to the closest mall in search of a rain jacket. I went to this store (I can't remember the exact name). It's on the corner where Nordstrom used to be, across from Banana Republic and that Black and White store. I popped in for a quick look. The sales associate looked me up and down and asked me if I needed help. <br />
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Me: "No, just browsing around, thanks."<br />
Her: "Are you looking for something in particular?"<br />
Me: "Well actually, I'm looking for a jacket..."<br />
Her: "The only jackets we have are over $100 so I don't think you'd be interested."<br />
Me: (shocked pause) Why thank you, I'd love to take a look at the one hundred dollar jackets (as I emphasize the words one hundred) before I left.<br />
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Seriously hilarious. The best part is, I'm wondering what about my appearance made her feel inclined to say that? <br />
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In other news, Taylor and I had a fabulous time in the South. And turns out, I didn't even need a rain jacket. Here are my favorite things about our little trip to the South:<br />
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1. Most friendly place I have ever visited. Over the top, friendly.<br />
2. I felt super skinny next to all the fried-chicken-eatin' peeps. I really don't think healthy food exists there. Oh and I'm pretty sure I had more teeth than anyone we met.<br />
3. So green and gorgeous.<br />
4. There was a streaker at the football game...never disappointing.<br />
5. We flew out of the Provo Airport which actually rocked... AND I slept 12 hours uninterrupted. AND I got to spend some one on one time with my man. <br /><img align="right" src="http://i932.photobucket.com/albums/ad162/kksafford/signature.jpg" style="border: 0;" />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-56025578949274392672012-09-07T22:07:00.000-07:002012-09-07T22:07:08.954-07:00Konichiwa For the past month, Taylor and I (ok mainly me) have been hosting two 20 year old Japanese students. They are seriously the cutest things ever. They actually just left today. I heard about the opportunity on a Wednesday, casually asked Taylor about it. I honestly don't know what motivated me to do this. It just sort of happened. I just felt like we had the space, and it never hurts to help someone out when we were easily in the position to help. And they weren't LDS so I figured it was also a good opportunity to expose them to our church. <div>
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He obviously didn't think I was serious and told me we'd talk about it later. The next day, I texted him at work and told him I really wanted to do this, and they were coming over to meet me. He says the next thing he knows is he walks in the door from work and hears me asking them if they want to see their room. He claims we never talked about it, and to be quite honest, he was not on board. But turns out he ended up loving them just as much as I did. </div>
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Disclaimer: I didn't realized I would be a full-time tour guide. I was their sole source of entertainment. So I got to planning really quick and made up a calendar of activities. I gave them everything America has to offer: We took them to Temple Square and City Creek Mall, Thanksgiving Point, breakfast at Sundance's Foundry Grill, the moonlight ride at Sundance, BYU museums, pedicures, Costco, elementary schools, boating...I can't even name them all. </div>
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A few highlights for me were: </div>
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1. They thought Swedish Fish were healthy. Granted the bag literally had the words 'fat free' on the bag. I tried to explain that high sugar=unhealthy, but they just kept pointing to fat free. I basically just confused them so I just went with it. </div>
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2. Their favorite movies were Step Up, movies one, two and three. They also loved the Kinect Dance Central game. Too funny. </div>
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3. I'm pretty sure I contributed to shortening their lives a few years by the food they were eating. They loved pizza, burgers and hot dogs. None of which we really ever eat at our house. Taylor and I both hate hot dogs, eat burgers annually and only order pizza on rare occasions. But they don't know that because when they were here we wined and dined them the American way. </div>
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4. I made them breakfast every morning. I'm talking the works: buttermilk pancakes, omelets, french toast, crepes, waffles, etc. They ate so much, I thought they loved it. At the end of the trip, they told me they were surprised at American breakfasts because it is all too sweet. I guess when you're used to eating rice and miso soup for breakfast, syrup soaked pancakes may be a little sweet. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Teaching my mom's first grade class origami and how to use chopsticks in their presentation of Japan</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sundance moonlight ride: this was Miku's favorite activity </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miku, Asuka and Dcota (he was also here staying with another family in UT and we did a lot with him) at the Dinosaur Museum. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Asuka in her kimono holding Liv. They were adorable with Liv. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tubing was my favorite thing to watch. I laughed harder than I ever have. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFAq_65UtvDqedATkMF2s4f-5106icps0LlMHJWdy-pKHLKDV5XSKBb_2jsJocAQiUI0NZYoX65D25gyEC6gkpED5wYJpaB9A29rCaDEdQ4MkPRcK0Q6yaTWgfblcuS8xyYNG-jBzQBs/s1600/IMG_1071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXFAq_65UtvDqedATkMF2s4f-5106icps0LlMHJWdy-pKHLKDV5XSKBb_2jsJocAQiUI0NZYoX65D25gyEC6gkpED5wYJpaB9A29rCaDEdQ4MkPRcK0Q6yaTWgfblcuS8xyYNG-jBzQBs/s640/IMG_1071.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They love to throw up that double peace sign </td></tr>
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A few highlights for me were: </div>
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1. They thought Swedish Fish were healthy. Granted the bag literally had the words 'fat free' on the bag. I tried to explain that high sugar=unhealthy, but they just kept pointing to fat free. I basically just confused them so I just went with it. </div>
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2. Their favorite movies were Step Up, movies one, two and three. They also loved the Kinect Dance Central game. Too funny. </div>
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3. I'm pretty sure I contributed to shortening their lives a few years by the food they were eating. They loved pizza, burgers and hot dogs. None of which we really ever eat at our house. Taylor and I both hate hot dogs, eat burgers annually and only order pizza on rare occasions. But they don't know that because when they were here we wined and dined them the American way. </div>
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I made them breakfast every morning. I'm talking the works: buttermilk pancakes, omelets, french toast, crepes, waffles, etc. They ate so much, I thought they loved it. At the end of the trip, they told me they were surprised at American breakfasts because it is all too sweet. I guess when you're used to eating rice and miso soup for breakfast, syrup soaked pancakes may be a little sweet. </div>
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4. Watching them experience things like boating for the first time was too hilarious. My brother Jence wasn't even being very harsh on the driving and they were flying out of that tube left and right. We tried to go horseback riding but it was too stormy. That night we took them to Texas Roadhouse-- classic western American experience, and they ate it up. </div>
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5. (probably not a highlight) They made us dinner as a thank you. Bless their hearts, they made curry. I think my house still smells like it. I probably still smell like it. : ( </div>
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They were so polite and sweet! I sure loved having them here, but I am planning on taking a full day off. No laundry, no dishes...and no cooking! I have spent a month cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner nearly every single day. Liv and I are just going to read stories all day, play outside and stay in our sweats. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-10960728440384512212012-09-07T21:28:00.000-07:002012-09-07T21:28:28.945-07:00My man turned 30!So my man turned thirty this year. I was anticipating it to be a bit of a sensitive one...thirty is a big one and not an easy milestone for some so I was thinking big. I wanted to catch him by complete surprise. Something he'd totally love. The guy works nonstop. He needed a break. <div>
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Knowing we couldn't really take an entire week to go scuba diving which is his favorite thing, I opted for what I thought would be the next best thing: a trip to NYC to see his favorite baseball team (Texas Rangers) play in Yankee Stadium, go see our favorite late-night guy, Jimmy Fallon, eats lots of delicious food, see his only brother who lives there...the list goes on and on. NYC I thought sounded golden. I wanted it to be a complete surprise all the way up until we arrived at the airport. <div>
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So I began planning away...secretly of course. One night, after getting all the details together, I was attempting to sneak upstairs to book the whole thing. Taylor kept asking me why in the world I was missing the Olympics as I hid up in our room. Finally telling him to mind his own business, that I was doing something for his birthday, I reminded him again that he needed to get his birthday and the following day off of work. Here's how the conversation went: </div>
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Me: remember to get the 13th and 14th off of work. </div>
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Taylor: Oh, yeah. I can do that...now that we aren't going to NYC with my family in September. </div>
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(side note: we were thinking about going to NYC in Sept. with his family but plans fell through). By the way, sooo glad we aren't going to New York. That's the last place I want to be right now..blah blah blah (reasons for why he didn't want to go). I'd rather go someplace relaxing. </div>
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Me: (nervous laugh) then blank stare. </div>
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The truth eventually came out and he felt really bad trying to tell me how fun that trip sounded I'd planned. Get real, I knew the truth. But I was just relieved I hadn't booked anything or there may have been some tears shed. </div>
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So we went on a stay-cation instead. To Park City. And it rocked. We stayed here (minus the snow): </div>
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Let me just say that "Vacation Kacie" is much more fun than real life Kacie. His words, not mine. We spent his 30th birthday doing everything a 12 year old would probably love doing: we rode the Alpine Slide, Zip Line and Coaster. We even ate Dip N' Dots. If that isn't the epitome of celebrating your youth, I don't know what is. We laughed the whole time, went to movie, ate at his favorite restaurant in PC and ended the night with some delicious room service birthday dessert. And the best part? We felt a million miles from home. </div>
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Oh, and here's what I got him for his birthday: Texas vs Ole Miss football tickets (in Oxford, Mississippi), Apple TV and a new Hugo Boss suit. </div>
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Excuse the dungeon picture. Since we were going to be out of town, I didn't make Taylor a cake. <br />
DP is his favorite beverage of choice so I improvised.<br />
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Let me explain this gift. I printed our a picture of a grey suit and glued his head to the body. I couldn't pick a suit out for him...it needs to be fitted. So I did the next best thing. He thinks I'm such a weirdo, but you should have seen his face when he opened it up. Hilarious.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-28405840300905086892012-09-07T20:55:00.000-07:002012-09-07T20:55:08.148-07:00Happy 9 months, Liv <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
My friend, Heather Telford whom I know from my college waitressing days took these. At 9 months Liv crawls, knows bye-bye, dances mostly by shaking her arms, and she roars when I ask her what a lion says; she has almost four teeth. </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-9747518825852887042012-09-07T20:45:00.000-07:002012-09-07T20:45:02.281-07:00Goodbye, summer See you next year, summer. <br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWV7x8qMi8y0jBxPucMLIVNz5-q-4egSTvxFFWh8vlg8kJeD31GrifL-pLqBANWH96kVUtcbA5SsVuG3tP9dRiH4-eryWLDY1xLzokT9rmY1aHfPq6qtrd3ZoSkC0vbNDpVcTcXOmQCI/s1600/IMG_0877.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWV7x8qMi8y0jBxPucMLIVNz5-q-4egSTvxFFWh8vlg8kJeD31GrifL-pLqBANWH96kVUtcbA5SsVuG3tP9dRiH4-eryWLDY1xLzokT9rmY1aHfPq6qtrd3ZoSkC0vbNDpVcTcXOmQCI/s640/IMG_0877.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">That's right, folks. I made this white chocolate, red velvet cake for my sister Callie's 30th birthday. She flew all the way from Seattle just for her birthday and Lake Powell so naturally I dug deep and connected with my inner Martha. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGzqjI9mWX4bFqkTvKJrZ9e7JUt_oQZcps6plsOzjjW2DrSBVDnJQ4oowvJrpTeUh1hRUuuNNurU0v-L6-0ivFQusqfU5Mt78QfnHtmigWGQaVJXjFB-j4ADrjj2DRXKqxlZI6IW-kmA/s1600/IMG_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEGzqjI9mWX4bFqkTvKJrZ9e7JUt_oQZcps6plsOzjjW2DrSBVDnJQ4oowvJrpTeUh1hRUuuNNurU0v-L6-0ivFQusqfU5Mt78QfnHtmigWGQaVJXjFB-j4ADrjj2DRXKqxlZI6IW-kmA/s640/IMG_0888.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Liv and I left Taylor home to work. First Lake Powell trip was a mild success. We need to toughen her up a bit, but it was so fun to be with my family. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I will miss summer raspberry deliciousness. A million bottles of jam plus two homemade pies (three if you count the one I threw on the kitchen floor..oops)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This little fish is going to miss her hippo pool. But it will be awesome next year because she won't even remember it exists. </span><br /><br /></td></tr>
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This is probably the thing I will miss the most about summer--my mom. You see, my mom teaches first grade full-time and goes to every single one of my little sister Kenzi's volleyball tournaments. See you next summer, Mom. It sure was great being able to call you at 11am if I felt like it. <br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-43189205100119452272012-07-10T22:39:00.003-07:002012-07-10T22:39:52.746-07:00Watch out Phyllis HeilYou may be wondering who is Phyllis Heil? For those of you not up to date with your current events, she is the World Whistling Champion of 2011. Fast forward fifteen years and she's got some serious competition: Liv Elaine Safford. <span style="background-color: white;">Taylor and I discovered Liv accidentally learned how to whistle. It's the funniest thing. She was whistling quite loudly in the grocery store the other day and this cute grandma thought she was some sort of baby genius. I'm sure she'll grow out of it, but it does make for some interesting attention. I've yet to catch it on video! </span><div>
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As for other Liv updates, she is so close to crawling, it makes me sad. I don't want to baby proof my house. She just rolls and scoots everywhere she wants to go which is slow enough I can usually catch her before any major damage. She also has two teeth on the bottom. She can do bye-bye, but sometimes I'm not sure if she's just excited or if she really knows how to do it. She's becoming quite the mama's girl, loves the water, and is scared of dogs (we're working on this one). She's learned how to throw tantrums and is really good at it. Liv's favorite food is fruit, but she also eats pretty much anything I put in front of her. I am not super adventurous with her foods simply because I'm the one changing her diapers. More real food = more gross diapers. Does that make me a bad parent? </div>
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Everyone comments on her big beautiful blue eyes. She smiles at everyone and is constantly laughing and happy. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She loves grass</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby bikini: so cute yet so impractical</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was in the laundry room for 2 minutes and she's gotten into my bag from girl's camp, somehow turned on the lights and was having a ball</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her means of transportation</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-71445254670235070472012-07-10T22:11:00.001-07:002012-07-10T22:11:08.908-07:00Happy Birthday, America!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The Fourth of July is my favorite holiday. What's not to love? BBQs, fireworks, parades...freedom. Just to name a few. I often feel just a twinge of homesickness for my hometown celebrations. Nobody does the Fourth like Fillmore. But...my family doesn't live there anymore, so we don't make the trip down. Taylor and I hosted a family BBQ and then turned our backyard into an outdoor theater for the neighborhood. We actually had pretty great seats to catch the Stadium of Fire fireworks, too. Whenever I say the words, Stadium of Fire, I have to resist the urge to belt it out Donny Osmond style, "Sta-DI-um of Fiiire!" </div>
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We didn't do our own fireworks this year since I felt a little guilty about the entire state of Utah burning down and so much dry grass around our place, I figured we'll just do an extra great show next year. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kenzi and Liv</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jence and Liv</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jence taking care of the grilled corn on the cob...yum. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving some watermelon (in her choke-proof net of course...I'm a freak about choking)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kenzi and Krew and Jence and Liv</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYax07nDLAFtFqZDMhAphGMeK_FwtwTSbTcjSNkWfFf1-JFr4J5VQuxpDEbPCvqWS9JEZda7ujxm0-Bmcb6egMLWm1fntuVFIeWEennt4SfHPmD6y7Ff2GPMzDhpKYFjW0NgGAq0GIEk/s1600/IMG_0588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJYax07nDLAFtFqZDMhAphGMeK_FwtwTSbTcjSNkWfFf1-JFr4J5VQuxpDEbPCvqWS9JEZda7ujxm0-Bmcb6egMLWm1fntuVFIeWEennt4SfHPmD6y7Ff2GPMzDhpKYFjW0NgGAq0GIEk/s640/IMG_0588.jpg" width="408" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Typical mom, always cleaning up after everyone. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBycqh4755WljFefK52QetDC-l6K-djLbmMbOzVVevi4hmBaMQvnhNWogd8ADsVK1ZBKT1aL6DaeKcgAeUNEaCJUJZEBnbMOjGl1ev-5BREcSpLwAHsBmW1xK2t1qGksOR5XBTB2TZmJU/s1600/IMG_0589.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBycqh4755WljFefK52QetDC-l6K-djLbmMbOzVVevi4hmBaMQvnhNWogd8ADsVK1ZBKT1aL6DaeKcgAeUNEaCJUJZEBnbMOjGl1ev-5BREcSpLwAHsBmW1xK2t1qGksOR5XBTB2TZmJU/s640/IMG_0589.jpg" width="498" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Okay so our backyard needs some more work. In time, in time. But check out that screen! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxWl_mBrZ8WB2cfvF0BXCPIctbZioEZyfIUoMU4kZzMjEn5P9Atki3e-eGHCX1PTf1P4sMju1yqEWEIQ2K8eaMCY-3yGqbVpitQEWt60jUoNiNukXxsOupiajT40vat1Obdz78ySqkn0/s1600/IMG_0590.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxWl_mBrZ8WB2cfvF0BXCPIctbZioEZyfIUoMU4kZzMjEn5P9Atki3e-eGHCX1PTf1P4sMju1yqEWEIQ2K8eaMCY-3yGqbVpitQEWt60jUoNiNukXxsOupiajT40vat1Obdz78ySqkn0/s640/IMG_0590.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little friendly game of horse shoes </td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-3013334553007615722012-07-10T21:41:00.000-07:002012-07-10T21:41:16.650-07:00Burning the midnight oil<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">I have been such a night owl lately. I feel like the hours Liv is asleep, I can do so much so I just don't want to go to sleep even though I feel exhausted. Just the other day, I told Taylor to meet me at the nursery after work so we could pick out flowers and plants for our newly finished yard. Needless to say, it was a very late night, but we had a blast. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVr-HLj5S2Q5gk7Jg8n-Oo3UKW9ts15bm3CLMrcSp3Yp5TRh9bHr_KdkZuBzniwcrkFd2QJwcEIxO5EYQJmv6W4Ri_oOdqLD3_QtUg2OzxPbGG2_T7c0riqLHUbE4QQsPQahgXLAORts/s1600/IMG_0736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="background-color: white; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVr-HLj5S2Q5gk7Jg8n-Oo3UKW9ts15bm3CLMrcSp3Yp5TRh9bHr_KdkZuBzniwcrkFd2QJwcEIxO5EYQJmv6W4Ri_oOdqLD3_QtUg2OzxPbGG2_T7c0riqLHUbE4QQsPQahgXLAORts/s640/IMG_0736.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taylor and my brother Jence with their sweet head lamps</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbEOS8rEIBNN36qRcH33bZs2xIo4P3qobJ2c9SpK1lcsgPfp7q2WHzu8kFGSFZ-d-eB8qqc5JWCicab5rM_6dKGkEdwr9oEhiiYY6gz20pY-mz_UonS_NcF_EhT5usQCPz1IERszOj4M/s1600/IMG_0552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYbEOS8rEIBNN36qRcH33bZs2xIo4P3qobJ2c9SpK1lcsgPfp7q2WHzu8kFGSFZ-d-eB8qqc5JWCicab5rM_6dKGkEdwr9oEhiiYY6gz20pY-mz_UonS_NcF_EhT5usQCPz1IERszOj4M/s640/IMG_0552.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We still need to cap our stone wall, but the yard is coming along! </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHpc-InHHWrSBvMf_JJXNmb_b3IP4uQisEWQnS4fFtxBiuOFASr2LzJbeshqa-Ghk448KlBULGPZD4yU5bH-aLmeZxnb0vrrGYahsOgOoCabG6tslM_bDuBL8WjXqdeO_SZ3ihqe1GTHM/s1600/IMG_0553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHpc-InHHWrSBvMf_JJXNmb_b3IP4uQisEWQnS4fFtxBiuOFASr2LzJbeshqa-Ghk448KlBULGPZD4yU5bH-aLmeZxnb0vrrGYahsOgOoCabG6tslM_bDuBL8WjXqdeO_SZ3ihqe1GTHM/s640/IMG_0553.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdkW0ctQC2d4cMEpTjM6HS64A5zZApaH7zR-3_3ioWgQ3fGPxk-ECSjvm-V4I7u45rftR_q7iGiGSeR4s2d-jjeNMh-GHcsAK1jSePggWb9XmF4vTqFUj0rZt8n7TRStBzIAkdi-SJIb8/s1600/IMG_0554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdkW0ctQC2d4cMEpTjM6HS64A5zZApaH7zR-3_3ioWgQ3fGPxk-ECSjvm-V4I7u45rftR_q7iGiGSeR4s2d-jjeNMh-GHcsAK1jSePggWb9XmF4vTqFUj0rZt8n7TRStBzIAkdi-SJIb8/s640/IMG_0554.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvu3WvhlVcJHKRkhSNtafc5rNT7qAnKWQtp2kJIAuEi47QjsCkMRRLExLSvPEPb8TKRrOArJAqFheLZrdJAtL200_xqSMj927e_gvstPisAIXjPzoTrGlxOJADew9kdC9TOkztckbhVM0/s1600/IMG_0755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvu3WvhlVcJHKRkhSNtafc5rNT7qAnKWQtp2kJIAuEi47QjsCkMRRLExLSvPEPb8TKRrOArJAqFheLZrdJAtL200_xqSMj927e_gvstPisAIXjPzoTrGlxOJADew9kdC9TOkztckbhVM0/s640/IMG_0755.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hose just happened to be the best babysitter that afternoon. And I just love her cute little 95 year old smile. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Iy2PCepNBGDXDCS4Fd8Odr7aAX-JO69yrdq8JrYYT5umKfGiXGh-W-K9udc_SlmXBUlZyPHUnvNARR7mXGxxX1cTitdDBZfZ6GeGv-Izv8DtxKKNxAROOmy7i7OuR2cDId9Ap5zMKEA/s1600/IMG_0563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Iy2PCepNBGDXDCS4Fd8Odr7aAX-JO69yrdq8JrYYT5umKfGiXGh-W-K9udc_SlmXBUlZyPHUnvNARR7mXGxxX1cTitdDBZfZ6GeGv-Izv8DtxKKNxAROOmy7i7OuR2cDId9Ap5zMKEA/s640/IMG_0563.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taylor lets her eat all the dirt she wants</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPawf4dbR3NESh1iQCmujBjXCKgc2WMAfdPWKlMqmS3fR_Iu2P4x5idI5OgIeZeLRJVa3q1fQMucWrOV3utAdhe4K1s1KQMO6d8loW1UBGyKUKR_ZLCaYpp3-Y6rPA-YUGXq-cvsLd19Q/s1600/IMG_0560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPawf4dbR3NESh1iQCmujBjXCKgc2WMAfdPWKlMqmS3fR_Iu2P4x5idI5OgIeZeLRJVa3q1fQMucWrOV3utAdhe4K1s1KQMO6d8loW1UBGyKUKR_ZLCaYpp3-Y6rPA-YUGXq-cvsLd19Q/s640/IMG_0560.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-33361417611571893972012-06-25T22:41:00.001-07:002012-06-25T22:41:07.656-07:00Happy Father's Day!This father's day was a special one for me for two reasons: <div>
1. It was my husband's first real father's day</div>
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2. I gave my grandpa a pretty amazing gift my sister and I had been working on for quite some time. </div>
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I invited Taylor's parents over for dinner to celebrate. We had a great time, and a delicious dinner of filet mignon, chicken and vegetable kabobs, grilled pineapple, strawberry spinach salad, and creamy potatoes. Seriously, I was pretty proud of the spread. </div>
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Taylor has been a really great dad. He just loves Liv so much. It's like I've seen a whole new, tender side of him I didn't quite know existed. Having a child has really bonded Taylor and me because nobody loves our little Liv as much as the two of us do. And I know he loves me which is going to teach her more about love and life than anything else will. Unfortunately, I can already tell who's going to be the disciplinary....me of course. She can't do any wrong in his eyes. Even when I point out that Liv's forehead is kind of huge (in a cute way of course) he is fiercely defensive. : ) </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZV2lMRzb_Br8VQsXmwPI9LnN6c1ymF3erTt0BhFfh-3TzH7fPi5zloYEOtZY9OuF9yqzEyZN8SdztXRvNKBiOLVbHH9MLhxPKmkog8cAFv8SCUmLf4qBgDgwDJfUSxhI59PUgbQHcHfE/s1600/IMG_0550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZV2lMRzb_Br8VQsXmwPI9LnN6c1ymF3erTt0BhFfh-3TzH7fPi5zloYEOtZY9OuF9yqzEyZN8SdztXRvNKBiOLVbHH9MLhxPKmkog8cAFv8SCUmLf4qBgDgwDJfUSxhI59PUgbQHcHfE/s640/IMG_0550.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjafn0vZI-vsxWHFjmhNpWV9PVR9qloq-vxgp8YqTViZg8tfQ3i7Eih1NZpH8BH_ccvvxrcenSyaCFeW_3AhDv9mJhyphenhyphenWjdPBCzQlusb_e6ekWkzh5EPRTBzPq0UbcfLw-I-W8RNwLxyrRY/s1600/IMG_0548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjafn0vZI-vsxWHFjmhNpWV9PVR9qloq-vxgp8YqTViZg8tfQ3i7Eih1NZpH8BH_ccvvxrcenSyaCFeW_3AhDv9mJhyphenhyphenWjdPBCzQlusb_e6ekWkzh5EPRTBzPq0UbcfLw-I-W8RNwLxyrRY/s640/IMG_0548.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-IGOplygKpg_pm8ofb6d4TlQb1_OszNRnNoLMZK9RZAKo6ZfHzbdLfodFOOK5N0lsUjKYU0XUTIBVue0Lgjy1_RuBNDVxjHx2UsCNlkY_quwxgksva5R7APIUiT_WLgxBvY9nxxyzJ0/s1600/IMG_0544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii-IGOplygKpg_pm8ofb6d4TlQb1_OszNRnNoLMZK9RZAKo6ZfHzbdLfodFOOK5N0lsUjKYU0XUTIBVue0Lgjy1_RuBNDVxjHx2UsCNlkY_quwxgksva5R7APIUiT_WLgxBvY9nxxyzJ0/s640/IMG_0544.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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That evening while Taylor and his parents watched Liv, I went over to my grandparents, and handed him the 51 page book of his life history. My grandpa was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lymphoma. I am very close with my grandpa. He truly is my hero. Writing and compiling this book with my sister, Callie has been one of the most moving experiences I will never forget. It was a lot of work. We'd ask him questions, record it and then go home and write. Then edit, then write, then fact check, and repeat. It was worth it though because I sure love this guy! And after he's gone someday, I'll be able to pull out this book and remember why. </div>
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We included a quote by Earnest Hemingway before the foreword that expresses my feelings perfectly on how I feel about my grandpa: </div>
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"I had an inheritance from my [grandfather], </div>
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It was the moon and the sun, </div>
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And though I roam all over the world, </div>
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The spending of it's never done."</div>
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Oh and the back is just grey with this written in white: "Carve your name on hearts, not tombstones. A legacy is etched into the minds of others and the stories they share about you." It's just perfect. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bFiago_hBEKroHu6RYxkdUX-cD9Ltco9sqrSsTgYVKmDbE7wUob303a1ZJk1uFix0c6msbbGKj-tgAWi10gNJuYS-0be6nuDZl-duvh0LV23OgEPTsk8X5KJQmMFmXxTFPFvHNQANi0/s1600/IMG_0711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5bFiago_hBEKroHu6RYxkdUX-cD9Ltco9sqrSsTgYVKmDbE7wUob303a1ZJk1uFix0c6msbbGKj-tgAWi10gNJuYS-0be6nuDZl-duvh0LV23OgEPTsk8X5KJQmMFmXxTFPFvHNQANi0/s640/IMG_0711.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cover</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7lfZMDL_GGEceuYTut3IscCqo5EQ0Y7mk4wgbBfSHgEiBKksZOhwVYHNHE9a09hGoc7iPeTVmz8kOWKKLo-jaywIEiNmdcrkf32wHCz2kY9d115E4W5mYTfnA_YJtRQ5e9noNe184qg/s1600/Scan+6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7lfZMDL_GGEceuYTut3IscCqo5EQ0Y7mk4wgbBfSHgEiBKksZOhwVYHNHE9a09hGoc7iPeTVmz8kOWKKLo-jaywIEiNmdcrkf32wHCz2kY9d115E4W5mYTfnA_YJtRQ5e9noNe184qg/s640/Scan+6.jpeg" width="612" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aren't my grandparents the cutest? </td></tr>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-72730256787760814612012-06-25T22:13:00.002-07:002012-06-25T22:13:54.427-07:00Girl's Camp 2012<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46zGEImDp_6om-YI-o5Q-TtJzdvHZbC0l2uoht6r5OKJHzs4ewVYiOG3AcoGsvalr6tdn63SU71sEqFHZOZjitKEMtR8disUKuEcvnns2wY5M9p0e3yfbZYQ4BJUQJHMs6WXAv044XWg/s1600/IMG_0391.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46zGEImDp_6om-YI-o5Q-TtJzdvHZbC0l2uoht6r5OKJHzs4ewVYiOG3AcoGsvalr6tdn63SU71sEqFHZOZjitKEMtR8disUKuEcvnns2wY5M9p0e3yfbZYQ4BJUQJHMs6WXAv044XWg/s640/IMG_0391.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isn't is beautiful?</td></tr>
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I pretty much have the best ward ever. We camped a whole week at Mia Shalom up Fairvew Canyon. It was my first time there, and I thought it was gorgeous....minus all the dust. We had nearly forty girls come, along with six leaders. And here's the most amazing part: no drama. With that many sleep deprived, hormonal teenagers + one leader who just happened to stop nursing cold turkey that week (yeah that was me), it was nothing short of a miracle. Just kidding. But it really did make the week awesome. Each ward was given a region and we picked a country, our's being India. We wore bindi dots on our foreheads and shawls around our heads all week to represent. Throw in some Indian dancing around the fire, a holi festival of colors war, and no running water--we were the real deal.]<div>
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We leaders split up into both cabins and slept amongst our darling little campers. It seemed like all they wanted to talk about was boys, kissing and how I met my husband. They begged me to reveal my secrets, but duh...I knew better. However, I couldn't resist feeding the fire a bit. So of course I told them how sexy my husband is without his shirt and that he could basically body double for Jacob on Twilight which obviously was followed by lots of shrieking. When they asked for kissing stories, I'd just sigh and tell them all my kissing stories would just make them jealous, only leading to more begging. Whenever I could barely hold my eyes open, they'd beg us to stay up, and I had to tell them that their stories just weren't juicy enough. It was hilarious. I got a kick out of these girls. </div>
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There was also the sweet teachable moments, too. I care so much for all of these girls. Quite a few are from single parent and blended families. I am so impressed how strong they are and how kind they were towards each other. I would take every one of them home with me if I could! </div>
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The other leaders were awesome. The six of us probably had more fun than the girls. At one point, one of our leader's daughter was humiliated by her mother's dance moves and scolded her for acting like a teenager. We choreographed an Indian Dance (a little thanks to my old Sparkette days, I was able to hold my own) and preformed it for the girls. They thought it was a blast and then we taught it to them and danced nearly all day. </div>
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I had so many positive girls camp memories growing up with the good old Fillmore 1st Ward. There were a lot of faith-building memories I have of girl's camp. Now as an adult, I was reminded why it always left such an impression on me. I'm also discovering how much work actually goes into camp, but it's well worth the effort and time. </div>
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I missed Liv terribly, but she was in good hands. Due to complicated schedules, she was bounced around a bit, spending a few days with my mom, then my sister-in-law, my mother-in-law and my husband. It was so fun to see her when I got home. She gave me the biggest smile and kept cuddling her little face into my neck. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the girl's made this cute photo collage</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIXFEDeNYOo_evQqjgdJbSjrz6lBb1pwjyo72ioA6buBdeuhjNoy5nWQyha8wHQ6CzXEH48q74PikmZOUyd_kmTYpgUdnRwPpdgqxYf3OOHblMkWJQJnS_Slo7SdhrVtU4O19Sc80BlY8/s1600/IMG_0712.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIXFEDeNYOo_evQqjgdJbSjrz6lBb1pwjyo72ioA6buBdeuhjNoy5nWQyha8wHQ6CzXEH48q74PikmZOUyd_kmTYpgUdnRwPpdgqxYf3OOHblMkWJQJnS_Slo7SdhrVtU4O19Sc80BlY8/s640/IMG_0712.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ward skits...apparently they were funny. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLK3gPM70aXZ4B3RYaMiW_ej4GnYnbARvFqJvXaMJbzW7LGfa21mVmBlGxtdicrabrU8Rxe1YjSUr4jYsDICwrVDKshpo8FyhqOf5epOzrdv_i8Up98d75R4o-gVo3e7OJNG-fAjMwr0/s1600/IMG_0713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaLK3gPM70aXZ4B3RYaMiW_ej4GnYnbARvFqJvXaMJbzW7LGfa21mVmBlGxtdicrabrU8Rxe1YjSUr4jYsDICwrVDKshpo8FyhqOf5epOzrdv_i8Up98d75R4o-gVo3e7OJNG-fAjMwr0/s640/IMG_0713.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our amazing camp director, Rachel. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TPLSJK7IkMow6DcBAsxI7eiiWa65jarJjvKe7Phe2O54aF25A4c0FWDexcrrdnqpxIAXnljA-t-BuDTerBHtnc6ZfDTsu3Zjfj-dcYycsM_KvCO7INLcgBZDQtM1XK5C_wg6FvGQL0U/s1600/IMG_0714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3TPLSJK7IkMow6DcBAsxI7eiiWa65jarJjvKe7Phe2O54aF25A4c0FWDexcrrdnqpxIAXnljA-t-BuDTerBHtnc6ZfDTsu3Zjfj-dcYycsM_KvCO7INLcgBZDQtM1XK5C_wg6FvGQL0U/s640/IMG_0714.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our cute little cabin</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij9SegOAHwFjxqIps9cA4Z-L_t5xCgfdV0-V8PTZSSck90O31gocPDZOGUZkP1ach64034obG9g-5WIQdIl64eZo4ZATGWnfmnB8QPQXyCioJpSfIJsFXNm6vkzDFPXvca-1MnHVEL8G4/s1600/IMG_0715.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij9SegOAHwFjxqIps9cA4Z-L_t5xCgfdV0-V8PTZSSck90O31gocPDZOGUZkP1ach64034obG9g-5WIQdIl64eZo4ZATGWnfmnB8QPQXyCioJpSfIJsFXNm6vkzDFPXvca-1MnHVEL8G4/s640/IMG_0715.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4th year girls</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxGZ9JdPgbuMqBQNcRx4a7huCmHN3wu4SbzWIg8abvsG7R_Qp6Qx2xYfA2ThSUUPNZSv98Z79KmT9m2Y_5vY7ATSPPuM-1qbtiRyUtpV4782iQ7IY4sF5A-ZVpjmg4XVMk5qhcJjkuMc/s1600/IMG_0718.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioxGZ9JdPgbuMqBQNcRx4a7huCmHN3wu4SbzWIg8abvsG7R_Qp6Qx2xYfA2ThSUUPNZSv98Z79KmT9m2Y_5vY7ATSPPuM-1qbtiRyUtpV4782iQ7IY4sF5A-ZVpjmg4XVMk5qhcJjkuMc/s640/IMG_0718.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Love these cute sisters </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTmxwRl5yf0dxOBdWDJRW8OvZ8ZI4KQ3BZAImNsJNe7_pLIrzg2j3T4c3FnwVuiFLBLHIAayjMt6YI-damy1RkaUKIt9XPp3DQ-iqzcUbdsxlfwWUc21YTEoJQPGFbPvqhna7_jr5pNY/s1600/481226_3206585376259_167303374_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFTmxwRl5yf0dxOBdWDJRW8OvZ8ZI4KQ3BZAImNsJNe7_pLIrzg2j3T4c3FnwVuiFLBLHIAayjMt6YI-damy1RkaUKIt9XPp3DQ-iqzcUbdsxlfwWUc21YTEoJQPGFbPvqhna7_jr5pNY/s640/481226_3206585376259_167303374_n.jpeg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I totally love this girl. Funny side note: English is her second language. There was so much dust and she had a difficult time with a cough. She came up to us and said that her "asparagus" was really sore and she needed a cough drop...meaning esophagus. haha we laughed pretty hard. but how cute is she?! </td></tr>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-45205546360119701272012-05-01T22:01:00.002-07:002012-05-01T22:01:35.117-07:00You could probably chalk my pre-parent self right up there with Hilary Rosen. You know, the democrat strategist who criticized Ann Romney for 'not working a day in her life' as a stay at home mom. I really didn't have a clue what a stay at home mom did with all her 'free time'. Well now I know exactly what those stay at home moms do with their free time...all five minutes of it. <br />
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All kidding aside, I am as busy as I ever have been. The last six months have been such an adventure. I'd love to go back and do it all again, minus the dieting and sleep training! I haven't been blogging much because I have been spending all my free moments co-writing (with my sister) my Grandpa Jorgensen's personal history or doing girl's camp stuff (I'm the assistant camp director). </div>
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And happy 6 months to my little babe! I'd love to report all the new things she's doing, but quite frankly, she's a little slow. haha I look at all the other babies her age and most are sitting up, scooting around, or at least standing. Not my little runt. She is completely content vegetating--just laughing and smiling. Although, I'm one to talk because I look at all the other moms who had babies 6 months ago, and most look fantastic. I guess I'm a little slow, too. I still have 15 pounds to lose before I get to my pre-baby weight. Still working my butt off...just have to focus on what I have done--45 pounds gone. </div>
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Here's a little of what we've been up to the last month or so (warning...picture overload): </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Blonde or Brunette? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I laughed so hard about this. The left is my sister Callie's hair and the right is my sister Kenzi's. She is pretty bald now and I just long for her to grow some hair! </span></td></tr>
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I love her little laugh. It's the cutest thing. Don't mind me. I can't hold my phone and throw her in the air at the same time, ok? </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Easter Sunday at the park </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Easter dress from Taylor's mom (she spoils Liv with the cutest clothes!)</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Her dad has the magic touch at church...fast asleep, just the way we like her. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">At Cabela's...way passed her bedtime, but she did great. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Zoo day! </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apparently she was having a great time visiting the giraffes. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pqitdfmd30BiQcwoWFCAF8JkPdAyKEnumzQtoNlSfkfdUWtQJ4I2DL9WvW4juAeEupcwYacE4bISbSO1yMtU2n6R9lLOntGVzXXdJx-RpXrVQKcLJfJ8xAJWAqqnjZnqMwG1G4lftMc/s1600/IMG_0528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4pqitdfmd30BiQcwoWFCAF8JkPdAyKEnumzQtoNlSfkfdUWtQJ4I2DL9WvW4juAeEupcwYacE4bISbSO1yMtU2n6R9lLOntGVzXXdJx-RpXrVQKcLJfJ8xAJWAqqnjZnqMwG1G4lftMc/s640/IMG_0528.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is her focused face. Taylor says she looks like this kitten (haha):<br /></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic0GjPIiXzxe30wQo2GkfLztW0cnnn7nQrZrFp2lvoC0AJOH6H7CtFII91QhxAadcEs5Mevnv05KmtJqFzrNkJ7jy5jcQz60_qtsBFoIn5mPmpVwibK4g4LZ7OYSYfGdR1aR82qw3MRds/s1600/shrek2_wp03_1280.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="505" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic0GjPIiXzxe30wQo2GkfLztW0cnnn7nQrZrFp2lvoC0AJOH6H7CtFII91QhxAadcEs5Mevnv05KmtJqFzrNkJ7jy5jcQz60_qtsBFoIn5mPmpVwibK4g4LZ7OYSYfGdR1aR82qw3MRds/s640/shrek2_wp03_1280.jpeg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsojHMysTrTgHfFo1HS6S22JRR7Bu2vKrKh2_Qtrpg3z4pR0JdqsLaALDIchoMLtSdVeuLOglt7lqTjHihLNJdRiE4M4mw_G_oXNtdhFiN5ax96NA0Do3b93tGN2jnCCpolI5Mpv9b6I/s1600/IMG_0638.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsojHMysTrTgHfFo1HS6S22JRR7Bu2vKrKh2_Qtrpg3z4pR0JdqsLaALDIchoMLtSdVeuLOglt7lqTjHihLNJdRiE4M4mw_G_oXNtdhFiN5ax96NA0Do3b93tGN2jnCCpolI5Mpv9b6I/s640/IMG_0638.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Daddy daughter time while I was cooking dinner </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqqj0260tTGDnYf9rXCNIzyQxz2mbCZEzpkRqljxIOtT4QJH7UnYg93YjpVg_YenoH-ZijaLi8Jjrm_cnjsWZ22WcAyn_ZQHwen0mqDoC88v24a0LGmew3vyenOMYhp8EvfEqTtp57yk/s1600/IMG_0648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqqj0260tTGDnYf9rXCNIzyQxz2mbCZEzpkRqljxIOtT4QJH7UnYg93YjpVg_YenoH-ZijaLi8Jjrm_cnjsWZ22WcAyn_ZQHwen0mqDoC88v24a0LGmew3vyenOMYhp8EvfEqTtp57yk/s640/IMG_0648.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Liv loves watermelon! And I know, I know, she has a huge head for her little body. her light hair doesn't help the cause either. ha </span></td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXUKIyyExt-Bth6QocvBY80_0nYLT_p1vfUjkfusOR_iCBSsLYFC85exvJY8f2KABAjmBqtOftURs3dsNJc-xJIs-4E5XVKFYc7_K8otvLxfACl3Ihgw4gX3BDZ3SmAgL6KS1dlsTts4/s1600/IMG_0531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXUKIyyExt-Bth6QocvBY80_0nYLT_p1vfUjkfusOR_iCBSsLYFC85exvJY8f2KABAjmBqtOftURs3dsNJc-xJIs-4E5XVKFYc7_K8otvLxfACl3Ihgw4gX3BDZ3SmAgL6KS1dlsTts4/s640/IMG_0531.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just some cookies I made for my cute friend Hayden's bridal shower. </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidKMsKiTeVFUgjb1pBw3ieDJqrPGLKQaFikD6CJx5uNlLkis4p-tV6vYY0mrj4Qssnn0RZwlypdqJOmG1SKKqkuLZDgEr7li1ZVQeDmBreRBmIlpzr6iQ6VIshWEAibe2bUueRnbhN80/s1600/IMG_0529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidKMsKiTeVFUgjb1pBw3ieDJqrPGLKQaFikD6CJx5uNlLkis4p-tV6vYY0mrj4Qssnn0RZwlypdqJOmG1SKKqkuLZDgEr7li1ZVQeDmBreRBmIlpzr6iQ6VIshWEAibe2bUueRnbhN80/s640/IMG_0529.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And no, I didn't see these on Pinterest. I think like twenty people asked me that. haha </span></td></tr>
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<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Db0SohOWspNCqczvHMdNyvtPZEOKjNELGDkyJGJgfSbbChWACuNDqOoKel58DQ69r-1J2z4WqEaC2YFqWzJkLCq_u2ADsdbZSa0Ozf3S9z6Xjcs103s-gW_IarXi1oZU_TbCGXvtqH4/s1600/IMG_0419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8Db0SohOWspNCqczvHMdNyvtPZEOKjNELGDkyJGJgfSbbChWACuNDqOoKel58DQ69r-1J2z4WqEaC2YFqWzJkLCq_u2ADsdbZSa0Ozf3S9z6Xjcs103s-gW_IarXi1oZU_TbCGXvtqH4/s640/IMG_0419.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">First cereal experience. She didn't love it. </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uc4UZD7GuX29Qgc41Af5OvHZ7_tjNSCgn2wME5TtrYeJL40_ZNWOiWks76iGyneQrux-p9da8_tcim9QFP548KbltznbwFQ6xsNso0PCxAolEVo_D_Fk6BDMTd1ZIEoknokJW0sTFx4/s1600/IMG_0423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9uc4UZD7GuX29Qgc41Af5OvHZ7_tjNSCgn2wME5TtrYeJL40_ZNWOiWks76iGyneQrux-p9da8_tcim9QFP548KbltznbwFQ6xsNso0PCxAolEVo_D_Fk6BDMTd1ZIEoknokJW0sTFx4/s640/IMG_0423.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Then we tried a different position....still not sure of it. </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ihKVuRfqsjrqNYGqea5Q2_B-qexge47D9wtXjOqE-Dy5foSXd6-Egf9tSYw9QdUOhoPAx65HBDle1u7Q_8ouHoIdIXoXn8DXySvUL8Bg91EYFjSqiN4Wly1qscXgoV81m21SA5q3hOM/s1600/IMG_0464.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ihKVuRfqsjrqNYGqea5Q2_B-qexge47D9wtXjOqE-Dy5foSXd6-Egf9tSYw9QdUOhoPAx65HBDle1u7Q_8ouHoIdIXoXn8DXySvUL8Bg91EYFjSqiN4Wly1qscXgoV81m21SA5q3hOM/s640/IMG_0464.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">She loves mirrors. </span> </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT2IxJfLNZtpJAQoii8C-oR9kpRYbo7fK6G2ZPbbOHGP26jAoVO6mshZelnuj0fmxI4Y26E9WtR27Xor2ryxOgELQWedaauuF2sSDoYbBj5yAc5lPlf9V56R-jEsJ0Kw6QIsWXadgtXYc/s1600/IMG_0552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT2IxJfLNZtpJAQoii8C-oR9kpRYbo7fK6G2ZPbbOHGP26jAoVO6mshZelnuj0fmxI4Y26E9WtR27Xor2ryxOgELQWedaauuF2sSDoYbBj5yAc5lPlf9V56R-jEsJ0Kw6QIsWXadgtXYc/s640/IMG_0552.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">We love going on walks with Liv's cousin Krew. </span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnP21sWIW_PXcOkrT-ooqOTmRqaYst8qNKbSuJewT8b-7VXby13xGxn6RDiPAMjp4khykV4lyVKLPZNKGXpyhUab6Bnsw31GIxLU_xVSj8r3Ek3lLbvTDut6ABb7WyUxKIcK4PQ2Pq-U/s1600/IMG_0482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnP21sWIW_PXcOkrT-ooqOTmRqaYst8qNKbSuJewT8b-7VXby13xGxn6RDiPAMjp4khykV4lyVKLPZNKGXpyhUab6Bnsw31GIxLU_xVSj8r3Ek3lLbvTDut6ABb7WyUxKIcK4PQ2Pq-U/s640/IMG_0482.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And I went to Sundance for breakfast with this handsome guy. </span></td></tr>
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So many more things I couldn't fit in. Life is great! I just wish there were more hours in the day. <br />
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-27780438276397443602012-03-15T20:58:00.000-07:002012-03-15T20:58:21.343-07:00The latest happenings...So much has been going on this past month. Here's just a peek at what's been going on:<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>-I had a birthday. And so did half of my family. Lots of February birthdays=lots of celebrating </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGa-huILZj5HdVyO2SRCfpXi_A7cjSPZo1gQhe1bFtW_yMK_VArH1dgLBaICWsLey8_mH-MYpHTpfH8ikvSZmWvp_baPfQqTT7y0kEOYZ7XE2uWEiGue0YyQOjRNHYnbwEYufS2BfJY3s/s1600/IMG_0407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGa-huILZj5HdVyO2SRCfpXi_A7cjSPZo1gQhe1bFtW_yMK_VArH1dgLBaICWsLey8_mH-MYpHTpfH8ikvSZmWvp_baPfQqTT7y0kEOYZ7XE2uWEiGue0YyQOjRNHYnbwEYufS2BfJY3s/s640/IMG_0407.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Pops... we are almost exactly 30 years apart. 30 years and 5 days. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4i52NWiye_vw6N5Zrw36zbuskb3qsNWluIlWOa1zCLYjoM-dIIudIqEZzTQXL9YE0DNrEgdPQAMcpWFc_m1Sa2Tw2NjxbJyAY0QI7T4SF1lcT6807omG4MsR9M_DswuXnj7V1d_kF9I/s1600/IMG_0476.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz4i52NWiye_vw6N5Zrw36zbuskb3qsNWluIlWOa1zCLYjoM-dIIudIqEZzTQXL9YE0DNrEgdPQAMcpWFc_m1Sa2Tw2NjxbJyAY0QI7T4SF1lcT6807omG4MsR9M_DswuXnj7V1d_kF9I/s640/IMG_0476.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liv and I on my birthday</td></tr>
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</div><div>-My little brother got home from serving an LDS mission in Ukraine. He did have to come home last December for surgery for three weeks, but it's great to have him permanently home. He's such a little stud. I just love that kid. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Fe_elieYZsVzqaRpvThs6NXUgfKkpI9mDt4IjECuwqMY0wIBE5XNxBhU5km-467Bj76DhAv6vylRvA5uE02z5EpqaR5jtR60V0fwzEAtPr0MdoHCetZ0n4OpxBTt9UU-EI9bV0vx1Yg/s1600/18850_723250762689_17812619_39711908_4796196_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Fe_elieYZsVzqaRpvThs6NXUgfKkpI9mDt4IjECuwqMY0wIBE5XNxBhU5km-467Bj76DhAv6vylRvA5uE02z5EpqaR5jtR60V0fwzEAtPr0MdoHCetZ0n4OpxBTt9UU-EI9bV0vx1Yg/s640/18850_723250762689_17812619_39711908_4796196_n.jpeg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ok this is pre-mission, but I was too busy wrangling a tired baby to take any pictures at the airport with my camera </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>-Taylor and I hit our 4 year anniversary! Celebrating will take place this weekend. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCJ5SUHT8Ygc3rkGVl4BRfNc1zCeSvQdGnuiuDOj6caIIlowVdrygrrKuIgtqAQvv7z-nt9vC6QO6J7NRV52DYJvUNolFAAPCLJ004YHWiDsPAYfwFym3mEBgO8lbQRTbrzKpf9fa7fo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2012-03-15+at+9.50.57+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglCJ5SUHT8Ygc3rkGVl4BRfNc1zCeSvQdGnuiuDOj6caIIlowVdrygrrKuIgtqAQvv7z-nt9vC6QO6J7NRV52DYJvUNolFAAPCLJ004YHWiDsPAYfwFym3mEBgO8lbQRTbrzKpf9fa7fo/s640/Screen+Shot+2012-03-15+at+9.50.57+PM.png" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oops...didn't crop Facebook out of it. </td></tr>
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</div><div>-Liv turned 4 months. How did this even happen? She is getting more and more fun every week. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaTRq5o4FezmODmDh9BWFbarjImS-HTL2e1eTQ0uDbqKDcV-Tai5yu3UQnHsd9Ok67ELXOyIGYlcBQ0HU51gBloLTFyeQVNR97-84HPNeHVfNiMcJma0LTolnCtomjYEDVmnPCNIdXNA/s1600/IMG_0439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaTRq5o4FezmODmDh9BWFbarjImS-HTL2e1eTQ0uDbqKDcV-Tai5yu3UQnHsd9Ok67ELXOyIGYlcBQ0HU51gBloLTFyeQVNR97-84HPNeHVfNiMcJma0LTolnCtomjYEDVmnPCNIdXNA/s640/IMG_0439.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCbmAbADOEpoJt_Uk9CYjZrowG07SXwAOwvLFWIEaw_oXPmfqgSdQuFpFsy-Ccn7IgdjpFSBMEePo3m8J2Fi25Jkbx-zwbf7o8PMyr1N7nKaO9HML0v9iVOsspjf8eOJWQgUW9MeuG9g/s1600/IMG_0457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCbmAbADOEpoJt_Uk9CYjZrowG07SXwAOwvLFWIEaw_oXPmfqgSdQuFpFsy-Ccn7IgdjpFSBMEePo3m8J2Fi25Jkbx-zwbf7o8PMyr1N7nKaO9HML0v9iVOsspjf8eOJWQgUW9MeuG9g/s640/IMG_0457.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She sucks her thumb now...and sort of looks like an alien here. So funny. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div><br />
</div><div>-I've been able to get away and start kickboxing and cycling again at the gym. My little sister Kenzi has been going with me and Taylor's parents have been watching Liv while we go. </div><div><br />
</div><div>-I went to my parents' for a few days to spend some time with my brother. My other brother and sister-in-law live there right now so it was so fun to hang out and have Liv get some cousin time with darling little Krew. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gnsg0P5_ycFmpGYx0J90w0D-2Pmj3Jg776ClOa-Lv4aTwQwyO_RzVi8dMSh2ml5SMnmDtCtR59muWjQ8mUg7fZwGPRjnpWFDrzjskNS1YEGJ5nKlmoGUBpQX2eCCIpUGyIaAJYmCmJY/s1600/IMG_0470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8gnsg0P5_ycFmpGYx0J90w0D-2Pmj3Jg776ClOa-Lv4aTwQwyO_RzVi8dMSh2ml5SMnmDtCtR59muWjQ8mUg7fZwGPRjnpWFDrzjskNS1YEGJ5nKlmoGUBpQX2eCCIpUGyIaAJYmCmJY/s640/IMG_0470.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All Krew wants to do is eat Liv and Liv just stares at Krew...but someday they will be buddies! </td></tr>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-29651435489519325922012-03-15T20:14:00.001-07:002012-03-15T20:59:29.915-07:00Best day of the yearToday I felt like the old me again. Not this crazed and exhausted new mommy persona I've recently taken on. Just me again. <br />
<div><br />
</div><div>This past week I've been pretty sick, and Liv hasn't been sleeping well. Well rested and healthy, I can conquer the world. Take those two things away...it get's ugly. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Liv and I finally took advantage of the beautiful weather and got outside. Taylor's parents gave me a really awesome jogging stroller for my birthday. The only used it'd gotten was to the mailbox and back. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I had plans to just take a nice little power walk. Adrenalin kicked in and I found myself running up hills, returning home an hour and half later, drenched in sweat. It felt great. And the best part...Liv loved it. She didn't even fuss once. </div><div><br />
</div><div>When we got home, I made my most favorite green smoothie to date: </div><div><br />
</div><div>banana, lite coconut milk, fresh pineapple, spinach, and some shaved coconut. Not the lowest calorie smoothie ever, but it was amazing. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iudgATC3mqPfSQ_sCbOVxvpcODHkQ4m6aKricj95YW33UiLkiNoU2yOXGQxuB2ZXPj3qHN-yMWJo_zcbDffxu9e0KQnnMweyJZOmLMNFVqfNb6EovJd91_3pjdblIvRo9c4ncS1uUyQ/s1600/IMG_0480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7iudgATC3mqPfSQ_sCbOVxvpcODHkQ4m6aKricj95YW33UiLkiNoU2yOXGQxuB2ZXPj3qHN-yMWJo_zcbDffxu9e0KQnnMweyJZOmLMNFVqfNb6EovJd91_3pjdblIvRo9c4ncS1uUyQ/s640/IMG_0480.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7kyaU5NwZv0bH1N_uVMQ5vKgkOrqIFRrNDR9evo44px8-i1sm010FUNcCgbEYD6l3ouOTAXsDGHdrJecYEhjyzB2FqPQ08X80nlxLbDiJnezzbKqGN7dRXyoWzbOWCB2UzkHkfOVXbU/s1600/IMG_0434.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7kyaU5NwZv0bH1N_uVMQ5vKgkOrqIFRrNDR9evo44px8-i1sm010FUNcCgbEYD6l3ouOTAXsDGHdrJecYEhjyzB2FqPQ08X80nlxLbDiJnezzbKqGN7dRXyoWzbOWCB2UzkHkfOVXbU/s640/IMG_0434.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-77523920156071040792012-03-15T19:26:00.001-07:002012-03-15T20:31:03.009-07:00Family<div>My mom recently gave my dad a book of his mother's personal history for his birthday, written by my grandmother, compiled by two of my cousins. It is the most incredible book and brought tears to my dad's eyes when he opened it. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X_eggUqbjLoiwfyUfEV3k_m_I5ZduQCbRfhqFtB-G3n8klSkzrhtPCBycQ6VH9MIgSfvtVqOxiZ5yTJCbVAjD6Oc3DSD3qH3T0INl7wdjN1I-ryaCIjDRwQZUWRJkmzIU68mraFPalg/s1600/IMG_0472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X_eggUqbjLoiwfyUfEV3k_m_I5ZduQCbRfhqFtB-G3n8klSkzrhtPCBycQ6VH9MIgSfvtVqOxiZ5yTJCbVAjD6Oc3DSD3qH3T0INl7wdjN1I-ryaCIjDRwQZUWRJkmzIU68mraFPalg/s640/IMG_0472.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div>My grandma, Elaine Kofoed was incredible. She's since passed away, but she kept a very detailed journal...even recounting my mom's wedding colors and how many guests attended their wedding. I laughed as I read humorous stories of my dad as a kid. He was such a little prankster and I'm sure gave her hell at times, but it was also touching to read as a young 17 year old, he defended and comforted her as she suffered a broken heart from a broken marriage. She was strong. It was difficult not harboring ill feelings towards my grandpa when reading the details of her divorce even though she recounted the events with such class. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I love that Liv carries on her name. I'm glad she'll be able to read about what kind of a woman she was named after. It also inspired me to begin my own personal journal. I have already typed up details of our wedding day, Liv's birth, and other fun details I don't want to forget. My sister Callie and I are working on getting my mom's parents' history together, too. I am very close with my grandparents. Even though I see or talk to them about once a week, they aren't going to be around forever. </div><div><div><div><br />
</div></div></div><div>I stand corrected in thinking family history was a geriatric hobby. </div><div><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-58695150480401573082012-02-14T20:22:00.000-08:002012-02-14T20:22:08.212-08:00Real LifeI'm not big on going out to dinner on Valentine's Day. Restaurants are always packed, and I just don't think it's worth it. In fact, one year Taylor and I went to Denny's on Valentine's Day. We thought long and hard on where people wouldn't be. Yep, Denny's. It was great. <div><br />
</div><div>Tonight reminded me of a scene from One Fine Day when Michelle Pfeiffer finally gets freshened up and the kids taken care of only to find George Clooney asleep on the couch. : )<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Even though this year's Valentine's plans didn't exactly go as planned, it was still perfect. I may not have cooked up the fancy dinner I'd envisioned or gotten to spend a romantic evening with my husband, sans baby. But I did get the sweetest card from Taylor (and a note on my bathroom mirror written in my lipstick) and that really made all the difference. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I think this sweet old man knew exactly what love is all about: </div><div><br />
</div><div>"I am satisfied that happiness in marriage is not so much a matter of romance as it is an anxious concern for the comfort and well-being of one's companion. Any man who will make his wife's comfort his first concern will stay in love with her throughout their lives and through the eternity yet to come." </div><div> -Gordon B. Hinckley </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvavkpJg4o38IG3CPYg1fdFPU13Q79rSlSQMf10T2KIDHJQswvAkIiOzsnDPwwhvJqdEwZJpfqFNzmOOhVGI9bVvhzPzbbYTnjdpyfGQ5ejY4h5k_fs5TXK4fBDZHn9DEwiNv-5Z0dtFE/s1600/5349.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvavkpJg4o38IG3CPYg1fdFPU13Q79rSlSQMf10T2KIDHJQswvAkIiOzsnDPwwhvJqdEwZJpfqFNzmOOhVGI9bVvhzPzbbYTnjdpyfGQ5ejY4h5k_fs5TXK4fBDZHn9DEwiNv-5Z0dtFE/s1600/5349.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Happy Valentine's Day! </div><div><br />
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</span></span></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-52739375613272973392012-02-01T20:44:00.000-08:002012-02-01T20:44:42.055-08:00Happy 3 months, today!Happy 3 Month Birthday to my sweet little girl!<br />
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She has almost doubled her birth weight now. And it seems that the worst of colic is behind us...so exciting! She's becoming such a sweet baby. We're starting to get in a routine which is great, and I love her little smile more than anything even if she never smiles once the camera comes out. Now I understand why moms are so annoying about their kids. I love Liv so much I seriously can't even stand it. She's starting to look less like her daddy's clone and more like her own little person. I just love her. And yes, she does wear a bib most of the day because she doesn't have enough clothes to go through 13 outfits a day.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrO6BexL9k8-sNeXasaJP5oI9K_1yqQN4KEt50oIsgME77t9XRY3O68PO_EJMFU0VzB0taCyn0L4xq6vjj5MLSzSBdQGa3cpfpBSLLf2hPcYKLf8JdA0aoSOFGa-sSTa89g0rdXKShyphenhyphen4/s1600/IMG_0380.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="586" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrO6BexL9k8-sNeXasaJP5oI9K_1yqQN4KEt50oIsgME77t9XRY3O68PO_EJMFU0VzB0taCyn0L4xq6vjj5MLSzSBdQGa3cpfpBSLLf2hPcYKLf8JdA0aoSOFGa-sSTa89g0rdXKShyphenhyphen4/s640/IMG_0380.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Most recent picture...loves her little bumbo now.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeYP_y0PvV-xf-asjDu1pNfF-OGGlbHQ5C0LJdKYlGPHicSn31FIrpwKPxOYM1kkadRu5duEBvb8fm0Eud_JtwkBYJPF1KDP7Z6WqTBajFn3uc4TNLgQUpTdin6CnnL3YBtPIN7uBklU/s1600/IMG_0254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeYP_y0PvV-xf-asjDu1pNfF-OGGlbHQ5C0LJdKYlGPHicSn31FIrpwKPxOYM1kkadRu5duEBvb8fm0Eud_JtwkBYJPF1KDP7Z6WqTBajFn3uc4TNLgQUpTdin6CnnL3YBtPIN7uBklU/s640/IMG_0254.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's funny to see that she's gone from this </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmKU3RfP7AdK7NItcmM5iuf45wpYRg6UGAs6MfZMCRXDC0N65lYAMxENAy6UDilsBnY_c_LLP6HRkVWLvhkDccOrFaYuKb51bWFCyNn25ymPOgYwGd8h8t78Ewq5D-4MvZl-EUkav-PQ/s1600/IMG_0310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmKU3RfP7AdK7NItcmM5iuf45wpYRg6UGAs6MfZMCRXDC0N65lYAMxENAy6UDilsBnY_c_LLP6HRkVWLvhkDccOrFaYuKb51bWFCyNn25ymPOgYwGd8h8t78Ewq5D-4MvZl-EUkav-PQ/s640/IMG_0310.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...to this in just 3 short months.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUP3fBx95W2i3yTx0o0FzCQ6cPdVW08A8Pf0u19Jx4vAn6DgoPfSvjaKGIKZQLgeUFRJYxHro-VrAbglhMN9gVKgHZlu6b_1JLSTFxikRTWpnWdc7sdMaHc2DCSmwB3U1vuW2Bl5oUk70/s1600/IMG_0316.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUP3fBx95W2i3yTx0o0FzCQ6cPdVW08A8Pf0u19Jx4vAn6DgoPfSvjaKGIKZQLgeUFRJYxHro-VrAbglhMN9gVKgHZlu6b_1JLSTFxikRTWpnWdc7sdMaHc2DCSmwB3U1vuW2Bl5oUk70/s640/IMG_0316.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Call me a bad mother, but this is the ONLY way she would sleep for weeks. What a little weirdo. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhFeWP6jF9u62kOr_zCDZ7-hMTGkXofEjVmrJnn3vFus1pF79VfrQswoAhGFzg2d-7r4MzvFeNPDZcM0UQqQSNdpf1XY62bte88pdmXtyW3A3u1kcdxO2TSEaxIdJkO8pOobmbEvbL7c/s1600/IMG_0327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAhFeWP6jF9u62kOr_zCDZ7-hMTGkXofEjVmrJnn3vFus1pF79VfrQswoAhGFzg2d-7r4MzvFeNPDZcM0UQqQSNdpf1XY62bte88pdmXtyW3A3u1kcdxO2TSEaxIdJkO8pOobmbEvbL7c/s640/IMG_0327.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a little smile I caught...which never happens in her car seat because 99% of the time she is screaming. She absolutely hates her car seat. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsfF9b1iQSkyIANCComUGYyT-bkIkF2ZeMfIf-n6OOsDyfBQZ0xBel3CFn2VKAcN74BlNn8B713BwzZhhPann5eemNcg0ylceE8AwgRfGr4P9AobDeWm4J6SFOeyO1HjiOdz8KYCjyDI/s1600/IMG_0330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHsfF9b1iQSkyIANCComUGYyT-bkIkF2ZeMfIf-n6OOsDyfBQZ0xBel3CFn2VKAcN74BlNn8B713BwzZhhPann5eemNcg0ylceE8AwgRfGr4P9AobDeWm4J6SFOeyO1HjiOdz8KYCjyDI/s640/IMG_0330.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not the most flattering picture. ha But she is really funny about her hands. I've caught her sleeping like this a couple of times now. : ) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtuRDP-slePAoT-4GUUPkgQqhcdvAvCyOV1qy9jJww1TrkFQbJJD6DZyyT63dq-uPoumoymHVqp1EwqROvHl1MBqHm-fuVzWgB5GA4DqDcyoS2vIdiZXRcysxyDa9z_q2RiVT2hUlA38/s1600/IMG_0323.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVtuRDP-slePAoT-4GUUPkgQqhcdvAvCyOV1qy9jJww1TrkFQbJJD6DZyyT63dq-uPoumoymHVqp1EwqROvHl1MBqHm-fuVzWgB5GA4DqDcyoS2vIdiZXRcysxyDa9z_q2RiVT2hUlA38/s640/IMG_0323.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bath time</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbz9HVVmDm14eBo0d3MLQMf0gPOiXV8mmAKtrQyPxHVDHbO4VQujXivDs8r2_Xv-x6VNRI18JGUclG4OfuEqk5tUV4r2DmBinY8lhRI1vCg4ERjaRog83Ha7cODR3V4h5TH-eM_MxFnQ0/s1600/IMG_0363.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbz9HVVmDm14eBo0d3MLQMf0gPOiXV8mmAKtrQyPxHVDHbO4VQujXivDs8r2_Xv-x6VNRI18JGUclG4OfuEqk5tUV4r2DmBinY8lhRI1vCg4ERjaRog83Ha7cODR3V4h5TH-eM_MxFnQ0/s640/IMG_0363.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this is her room ( i bought that dresser off of KSL and refinished it myself)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrseR2ghU66nhg36b5SUOPj-26ggO_xWe_uUWecWRBF2J5sy2KWqxv-_agZxFTEGdNdI2sw_g2lW40_acrRsFvXkqla4YHqDXaEdu3n43HpUm-j2NoMMqFvrAhacFL2vZrwilN2GSgmU/s1600/IMG_0364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrseR2ghU66nhg36b5SUOPj-26ggO_xWe_uUWecWRBF2J5sy2KWqxv-_agZxFTEGdNdI2sw_g2lW40_acrRsFvXkqla4YHqDXaEdu3n43HpUm-j2NoMMqFvrAhacFL2vZrwilN2GSgmU/s640/IMG_0364.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this room...it's tiny and perfect for her. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlQD9-SFfcRv38csgoUU2pQfWOEPpawjc_BRXb8w2SSJdMwt7qM2Tl60Zv5G1Qu_qWuP0m9lK0EgWuYDU0uOYw3yJnWYR5zFHmErcNy2J6NaCKD-j_aXN4eMRjwY-WbhGQ3t_fBsGbo4/s1600/IMG_0366.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlQD9-SFfcRv38csgoUU2pQfWOEPpawjc_BRXb8w2SSJdMwt7qM2Tl60Zv5G1Qu_qWuP0m9lK0EgWuYDU0uOYw3yJnWYR5zFHmErcNy2J6NaCKD-j_aXN4eMRjwY-WbhGQ3t_fBsGbo4/s640/IMG_0366.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am dying for her to love books! </td></tr>
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</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-45515507136446054582012-01-27T19:43:00.000-08:002012-01-27T20:35:07.153-08:00MomnesiaOkay, is this even real? I don't know, but it'd make me feel a whole lot better if it were. Last week was sort of miserable. And by miserable I mean awful. The closest thing to hell I can imagine. Okay, maybe I'm being a bit dramatic....<br />
<div><br />
</div><div> -Liv's colic spiked. She was rotten. And a very bad baby= no sleep=looney/emotional me.</div><div></div><div> -Taylor got super sick (and according to the doc, highly contagious) so Liv and I packed our bags for the week because I'm a germ-a-phobe and didn't want Liv to come down with strep and a sinus infection, too.</div><div><br />
</div><div>-I lost my wallet for 2 days. Somebody turned it in. I left it in the grocery store parking lot. </div><div><br />
</div><div>-I had to visit the doctor, too. I got an ingrown toenail ripped out. Gross, I know. The doc said it was the worst one he's seen. Even grosser. </div><div><br />
</div><div>-I went to the temple (only endowed Mormons are going to understand this one) on a Friday and the again on Wednesday because my cousin was going through for her first time and managed to lose my recommend. They still let me in and then I lost my temple envelope while I was there. I didn't go back up to get it. </div><div><br />
</div><div>-Liv got her 2 month shots. She may as well have gotten her limbs severed. Pretty sure the oral vaccine is the reason she's been producing man farts. </div><div><br />
</div><div>-Missed garbage day. Twice. And we have renters in our basement so that equals double the trash and we both have babies. Ew. </div><div><br />
</div><div>-Used conditioner instead of shampoo. <br />
<br />
-And I broke my iPhone. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_4w2Xl83bmSZcVL2HkGp_k28I1XlQXKZU-j5KcUq4qlSL_SYsggIP1yDDdvgE106gkjJObZDFlxnPKW8SsPFQNT6QxXBqcIo4mMUqRRj9qTdH9rKckXv32gRRO2B3mKd92fn15jHeGs/s1600/Screen+shot+2012-01-27+at+8.36.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE_4w2Xl83bmSZcVL2HkGp_k28I1XlQXKZU-j5KcUq4qlSL_SYsggIP1yDDdvgE106gkjJObZDFlxnPKW8SsPFQNT6QxXBqcIo4mMUqRRj9qTdH9rKckXv32gRRO2B3mKd92fn15jHeGs/s640/Screen+shot+2012-01-27+at+8.36.16+PM.png" width="640" /></a></div><div>But in good news, Taylor's health is restored, I donated blood, visited the temple twice this month, and lost 2 more pounds (33 down, 27 more to go). Oh and the best news of all...Liv is sleeping much better. But the downside is my boobs feel like the hoover dam waiting to burst every morning. It's a double-edged sword, I tell ya. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-38354916035711721372012-01-21T17:18:00.000-08:002012-01-21T17:18:02.139-08:00Liv's BlessingTaylor gave Liv a beautiful blessing in church on New Year's Day. It was great to have our family and friends over to our house afterwards. Feeling very grateful for all we've been blessed with.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLxe-uGurFnB0x3gKzQdhqt3_aqmMU2d23XiD-SPTv-5Q_UJD3cj0Zpg2hI2Tn2zSBk37n1IOaTvfcciYtwMpXeKJ-Y2yjfchup-qiYEvYAhw8NftW_PsDq76NvA-t5urwoF7yZslbw0/s1600/IMG_0349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgLxe-uGurFnB0x3gKzQdhqt3_aqmMU2d23XiD-SPTv-5Q_UJD3cj0Zpg2hI2Tn2zSBk37n1IOaTvfcciYtwMpXeKJ-Y2yjfchup-qiYEvYAhw8NftW_PsDq76NvA-t5urwoF7yZslbw0/s640/IMG_0349.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know, her tights are too big, but they don't even make them small enough.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG18rGrla7XGKHEsNPYcs0GMTg7uh4QIo903lnFUrI8ZOciDjXxERRPEEf7adF-j5sLtKHfhn0yS-4Sj0HhizqyAPTqC6sBnYicm3kIYhjSZ3tBOpjD7YbaKXST1SZYKzEaLqJvI5KX34/s1600/IMG_0361.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG18rGrla7XGKHEsNPYcs0GMTg7uh4QIo903lnFUrI8ZOciDjXxERRPEEf7adF-j5sLtKHfhn0yS-4Sj0HhizqyAPTqC6sBnYicm3kIYhjSZ3tBOpjD7YbaKXST1SZYKzEaLqJvI5KX34/s640/IMG_0361.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love her shoes.</td></tr>
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</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiyfUrQdpEXyuKSejtqWinu0JaVEDG_K03h0PC_KvskRgNiZVe5d9-JI7NIl2D0no8J6FjaYYiceOoFzirNdwKyF-tS1MxRYb_qH9MlMjyiSvVTDiDTSsNzQxEG8irL7LKLdrijdiWrs/s1600/IMG_0336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZiyfUrQdpEXyuKSejtqWinu0JaVEDG_K03h0PC_KvskRgNiZVe5d9-JI7NIl2D0no8J6FjaYYiceOoFzirNdwKyF-tS1MxRYb_qH9MlMjyiSvVTDiDTSsNzQxEG8irL7LKLdrijdiWrs/s640/IMG_0336.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivR_A0AmNgviDTT38dEZKYVOGumpSHge1jwTbk53GhCFraovcK5zuuByo7aQESOb9_56hLnQdL3YcYtCHkq5CnRGASrYXfg155z_6Ad_sAuzJjA9fHiL27g2tu6l9O545tHMu8viVv6fc/s1600/IMG_0359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivR_A0AmNgviDTT38dEZKYVOGumpSHge1jwTbk53GhCFraovcK5zuuByo7aQESOb9_56hLnQdL3YcYtCHkq5CnRGASrYXfg155z_6Ad_sAuzJjA9fHiL27g2tu6l9O545tHMu8viVv6fc/s640/IMG_0359.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Kenzi holding Liv</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUo3AcdDvKJAMHYmueSm3BVonoLogJCbvfZrnwoQ2dO2F-YBCtgzL7_sg6ljVYimg2IiOh7iRgHUN2y_bNEVknhgzihZaXWIimTkE2bFS6haD631xO_6fJfF8lxbG1ncuO6GCNgliCBJI/s1600/IMG_0357.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUo3AcdDvKJAMHYmueSm3BVonoLogJCbvfZrnwoQ2dO2F-YBCtgzL7_sg6ljVYimg2IiOh7iRgHUN2y_bNEVknhgzihZaXWIimTkE2bFS6haD631xO_6fJfF8lxbG1ncuO6GCNgliCBJI/s640/IMG_0357.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The most amazing great grandparents that have ever lived</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDrvsjMcWq8M8FYvv3KLARrbVSwuy8gP5M7le7wFk5lwVRxEVn1GVq_HOspci0kk1BAmc5De_ERxM4Ip86le-tYQzEQauXScyeVM5d820uAoEeUhOirmIvaUAEsg1_1aq6RAL091bSu3Y/s1600/IMG_0342.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDrvsjMcWq8M8FYvv3KLARrbVSwuy8gP5M7le7wFk5lwVRxEVn1GVq_HOspci0kk1BAmc5De_ERxM4Ip86le-tYQzEQauXScyeVM5d820uAoEeUhOirmIvaUAEsg1_1aq6RAL091bSu3Y/s640/IMG_0342.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liv's second mom...my sister, Callie</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50LkCcOYUivNN89lXUFRyueoDdGAF7XSsf6Kd6Zs41_s1u0sm0w26LNZRteo807OjNVfVXJnuP-JJL1it8Qfe1dQStpkysR9FUVMSuH7cGi1lraTZd6H5k-tVpBd9z1gMZoAObCXtVMs/s1600/IMG_0332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj50LkCcOYUivNN89lXUFRyueoDdGAF7XSsf6Kd6Zs41_s1u0sm0w26LNZRteo807OjNVfVXJnuP-JJL1it8Qfe1dQStpkysR9FUVMSuH7cGi1lraTZd6H5k-tVpBd9z1gMZoAObCXtVMs/s640/IMG_0332.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safford family all together: Taylor's Uncle Scot and his family</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7aC_WI56U4penp83eM7zI8vEfYYps-uvQPs2nF2FwB2y87OqQe2xaltoMgU92RBPhiu4SWipvPogi1hLFBk-uSqhoSRaoHy0O7msfxCLEbrMWAD26COZ1X_OB1eGvYmFsyoqSCET-Xo/s1600/IMG_0339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7aC_WI56U4penp83eM7zI8vEfYYps-uvQPs2nF2FwB2y87OqQe2xaltoMgU92RBPhiu4SWipvPogi1hLFBk-uSqhoSRaoHy0O7msfxCLEbrMWAD26COZ1X_OB1eGvYmFsyoqSCET-Xo/s640/IMG_0339.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taylor's brother, Trevor</td></tr>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-33834071036169884992011-12-30T21:10:00.000-08:002011-12-30T21:10:43.266-08:00Liv's newborn pictures<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Even though she's had a little colic, never sleeps and poops more than any baby I've ever heard of, I am in love with this little nugget. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWCvHVdAEro/Tv6XcZux9uI/AAAAAAAAASY/JTgYY4A67P0/s1600/L_004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GWCvHVdAEro/Tv6XcZux9uI/AAAAAAAAASY/JTgYY4A67P0/s640/L_004.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xuYkyE_9qcU/Tv6XpzdMA3I/AAAAAAAAASg/1npTVjcAx3Y/s1600/L_013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xuYkyE_9qcU/Tv6XpzdMA3I/AAAAAAAAASg/1npTVjcAx3Y/s640/L_013.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3x80Y_dUg0/Tv6XzGTtNzI/AAAAAAAAASo/jLFzh1eBfxE/s1600/L_017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-C3x80Y_dUg0/Tv6XzGTtNzI/AAAAAAAAASo/jLFzh1eBfxE/s640/L_017.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AO_WLpqwj4o/Tv6X4D33ErI/AAAAAAAAASw/lBt5rI1P3BM/s1600/L_034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AO_WLpqwj4o/Tv6X4D33ErI/AAAAAAAAASw/lBt5rI1P3BM/s640/L_034.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EAWR2kXTtB0/Tv6YG9IQzgI/AAAAAAAAAS4/72SnMnK1P5M/s1600/L_036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EAWR2kXTtB0/Tv6YG9IQzgI/AAAAAAAAAS4/72SnMnK1P5M/s640/L_036.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kzr-v0lXTFQ/Tv6YKKzDjNI/AAAAAAAAATA/nsBYMw18A8U/s1600/L_029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kzr-v0lXTFQ/Tv6YKKzDjNI/AAAAAAAAATA/nsBYMw18A8U/s640/L_029.JPG" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lf4iSZ_bNjU/Tv6YP_m-t0I/AAAAAAAAATI/6YzSPurceio/s1600/L_051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lf4iSZ_bNjU/Tv6YP_m-t0I/AAAAAAAAATI/6YzSPurceio/s640/L_051.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DL2Ze6WKTT0/Tv6YjqzGtfI/AAAAAAAAATQ/y1KUwqkMK8c/s1600/L_061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DL2Ze6WKTT0/Tv6YjqzGtfI/AAAAAAAAATQ/y1KUwqkMK8c/s640/L_061.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dfwvICzSYrY/Tv6YtZi_jfI/AAAAAAAAATY/VcXkh8fnht0/s1600/L_079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dfwvICzSYrY/Tv6YtZi_jfI/AAAAAAAAATY/VcXkh8fnht0/s640/L_079.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--lOm28NLL_w/Tv6YxKdWoyI/AAAAAAAAATg/aMO7EMpTqK8/s1600/L_073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--lOm28NLL_w/Tv6YxKdWoyI/AAAAAAAAATg/aMO7EMpTqK8/s640/L_073.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mHE_l6yVOAk/Tv6Y1SGvWZI/AAAAAAAAATo/-BcktsP5Xv0/s1600/L_028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mHE_l6yVOAk/Tv6Y1SGvWZI/AAAAAAAAATo/-BcktsP5Xv0/s640/L_028.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-65669758536655774002011-12-30T20:57:00.000-08:002011-12-30T20:57:05.069-08:00Happy HolidaysMy apologies for being MIA in the blogging world. I've been busy raising a human. NBD. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ea0EMsMCzw0/Tv6TO_QcwOI/AAAAAAAAAQU/IMiYTUwIvao/s1600/IMG_0661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ea0EMsMCzw0/Tv6TO_QcwOI/AAAAAAAAAQU/IMiYTUwIvao/s400/IMG_0661.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Safford family Thanksgiving at Sundance. The food was incredible. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2hhh9TZsGA/Tv6TTrcz7yI/AAAAAAAAAQc/gp0sMvBLA4Q/s1600/IMG_0659.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M2hhh9TZsGA/Tv6TTrcz7yI/AAAAAAAAAQc/gp0sMvBLA4Q/s400/IMG_0659.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liv met her Uncle Trevor for the first time. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UZZGtpUsbUg/Tv6TbX1GfpI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VEC6F2w9Sig/s1600/IMG_0668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UZZGtpUsbUg/Tv6TbX1GfpI/AAAAAAAAAQk/VEC6F2w9Sig/s400/IMG_0668.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After dinner at Riverwoods</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rO7ZvymPwjU/Tv6Td6pT-MI/AAAAAAAAAQs/8ox1Uzch0Ok/s1600/IMG_0672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rO7ZvymPwjU/Tv6Td6pT-MI/AAAAAAAAAQs/8ox1Uzch0Ok/s400/IMG_0672.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, we chopped our tree down. It's gorgeous! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gx6SDwMyoHA/Tv6TnZgmD4I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/I1ERHVU-ylM/s1600/IMG_0700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gx6SDwMyoHA/Tv6TnZgmD4I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/I1ERHVU-ylM/s400/IMG_0700.JPG" width="378" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our favorite Christmas toy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YJ_AGllMUTI/Tv6TuiAQJFI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/eAGrBiHEP-s/s1600/IMG_0676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YJ_AGllMUTI/Tv6TuiAQJFI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/eAGrBiHEP-s/s400/IMG_0676.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gingerbread competition getting intense. </td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WGEPli9wUMM/Tv6Tzl_OXCI/AAAAAAAAARM/2HmkOCMdw5w/s1600/IMG_0678.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WGEPli9wUMM/Tv6Tzl_OXCI/AAAAAAAAARM/2HmkOCMdw5w/s400/IMG_0678.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdeJfB4PbGQ/Tv6Unj9CCoI/AAAAAAAAASA/ZkbjIODRldQ/s1600/IMG_0687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IdeJfB4PbGQ/Tv6Unj9CCoI/AAAAAAAAASA/ZkbjIODRldQ/s400/IMG_0687.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every. single. year. Callie has many talents. Gingerbread house making isn't one of them. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9bZ-agaugdM/Tv6UDrzoDrI/AAAAAAAAARc/ahc3yv5dMVg/s1600/IMG_0694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9bZ-agaugdM/Tv6UDrzoDrI/AAAAAAAAARc/ahc3yv5dMVg/s400/IMG_0694.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas jammies</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins. Not sure how Liv feels about Krew touching her. : ) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCmFVaxAK9I/Tv6ULs8cVkI/AAAAAAAAARs/lmxKt4gcjwY/s1600/IMG_0709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HCmFVaxAK9I/Tv6ULs8cVkI/AAAAAAAAARs/lmxKt4gcjwY/s400/IMG_0709.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aunt Callie and baby Liv</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xu9Ubi7nk98/Tv6UNUzrAFI/AAAAAAAAAR0/poEjxJ0zJYw/s1600/IMG_0718.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="340" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Xu9Ubi7nk98/Tv6UNUzrAFI/AAAAAAAAAR0/poEjxJ0zJYw/s400/IMG_0718.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our new snowblower...woot woot! Now only if it would snow...</td></tr>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-81427890925160553422011-11-08T21:42:00.000-08:002011-11-08T21:42:42.053-08:00And I couldn't agree more!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjpbF4IHP8tgO4Irab7UaVlXW8TY1fTzroLed4rw4Ufl0PwsWfLfhk_RFJSXmdn_TFYbq3-fnHMsxx7scpN7a9skeQDfOYHqwKPAoi9XmfA9kk3CyonCgdf8ZxFjE8ldyl8TLMhUWMLiU/s1600/hallmark-edge-of-motherhood-cards-review-giveaway.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjpbF4IHP8tgO4Irab7UaVlXW8TY1fTzroLed4rw4Ufl0PwsWfLfhk_RFJSXmdn_TFYbq3-fnHMsxx7scpN7a9skeQDfOYHqwKPAoi9XmfA9kk3CyonCgdf8ZxFjE8ldyl8TLMhUWMLiU/s640/hallmark-edge-of-motherhood-cards-review-giveaway.jpeg" width="536" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-56761147691197969032011-11-06T12:06:00.000-08:002011-11-06T20:06:24.223-08:00Welcome to the World!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Liv Elaine Safford arrived on Tuesday, 11/1/11 at 9:20am in room 111 (so many ones) weighing 6 pounds, 2 ounces and 19 inches long, 10 days early. </span><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My water broke on Halloween night somewhere around 9:30pm. We had just finished cleaning up dinner and doing dishes. I had actually taken the day off of work to spend the day with my little sister to celebrate her 16th birthday, just the two of us. She got her braces off, we went shopping, to lunch at La Jolla Groves, and then to a movie. Oh and of course had to get carmel apples since that's one of her favorite treats she hasn't been able to enjoy eating the last two years. I was feeling extra tired and by the end of the day, and anxious to get off my feet. Anyway, back to Halloween night. We had planned to stop by a neighbor's and watch a movie, but with the mass of trick or treaters, we hadn't made it out the door, and we kept having to pause the movie. I laid down on the couch for just a few minutes, dozing off only to have my eyes fly wide open, feeling a gush of 'water'. I jumped up and told Taylor that I think my water just broke. In about 2.5 seconds, the TV was off, and the car seat was in his truck and he was ready. Meanwhile, I was still standing in the same place, bawling my eyes out. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I was absolutely convinced she would come after my due date so I had a minor melt down. The house wasn't in perfect order; the nursery wasn't finished; we didn't have anything packed or any laundry done for that matter. I didn't wrap anything up at work that I'd planned to, and to be honest, I was so nervous that this day had finally arrived. Taylor did a great job comforting me, then called my mom. My mom gave me a pep talk, and Taylor gave me a priesthood blessing. I got in the shower, packed my things, and we were off to the hospital. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I had my first contraction about 10 minutes after we got to the hospital. They started coming fast. By 4am, I was getting my epidural. It was so much better than I ever expected. I could still move my legs and feel pressure of my contractions. My blood pressure was really low (no surprise there since I'd been dealing with that my whole pregnancy) so it kept setting off an alarm. My baby's heartbeat was dropping. I guess somehow there was pressure on the cord so she wasn't getting enough oxygen. I really didn't sleep for a second all night...and thanks to that alarm, neither did Taylor. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">That morning I could feel her descending. I seriously felt like she was going to drop out. My awesome doctor came in that morning....I have no idea what time, but I started pushing, and ten minutes later, she was here. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I expected to feel this incredible surge of emotions and deep love for this little person I'd just carried for 9 months, but to be honest, it just felt so weird. And that's all I kept saying. This is so weird. I felt a little guilty for not feeling any connection with her, or any emotions at all for that matter. But by the next day, that all changed. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">She is so much fun. I don't mind the no sleep thing. In fact, I don't know if I am running on pure adrenalin, but I really haven't been that tired. Pregnancy was SO much harder for me than this whole post baby thing. I am euphorically happy which I really didn't anticipate at all. I've been giving myself pep talks for months now trying to gear up for this, and it's so much easier than I expected it to be...with the exception of nursing. I loathe breastfeeding. I'd rather give birth again. But I hear it gets easier, so I'm sticking with it...barely. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Now, on to the two people that deserve a medal every day the rest of their lives: Taylor and my mom. Taylor definitely gets a 5 stars on this whole daddy thing. He's done better than I could have ever expected him to. It's pretty incredible how much more I love him since Liv has arrived. He has been my number one cheerleader...even cheering me on in his sleep. haha </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">My mom is here to stay and it's been the best thing that could have happened. She is a machine. She took a week off work, is riding on less sleep than I am, and she's cleaned my entire house, done all the laundry, organized things, cooked, changed dirty diapers. You name it, she's done it. And I couldn't be more grateful. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">We've already had so many wonderful dinners brought to us, so many sweet messages from friends and family. It's been great to share this with both mine and Taylor's families. We're excited for Taylor's only brother Trevor to come visit for Thanksgiving to meet little Liv. And my brother will get home from his LDS mission in March, but we are sending them both pictures. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I am so happy, and little Liv is pretty much the cutest thing I have ever seen. I always thought I'd know if my baby would be ugly. Yeah right. I wouldn't have a clue, and thank goodness for that. Everyone deserves to have a mother who thinks they are the very cutest. </span></div><div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTftmDd3dYzVInB0SNb2oGRNw3-D4yVLLfdmroyibW3boWD1mpsRlCWJdXVwMwRIpnY-mvZJ57pdclzaUerzUsyIQvfnEP1kXLXVbRAuuwoz3G1RhPpq7f5lHp5RYk0gn_vHWx1lVEtvw/s1600/IMG_0257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTftmDd3dYzVInB0SNb2oGRNw3-D4yVLLfdmroyibW3boWD1mpsRlCWJdXVwMwRIpnY-mvZJ57pdclzaUerzUsyIQvfnEP1kXLXVbRAuuwoz3G1RhPpq7f5lHp5RYk0gn_vHWx1lVEtvw/s640/IMG_0257.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">She kind of looks 90 years old. Of course, one cute little 90 year old! </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7TGzfNQ_XtwcVMoYflhIF5_d_Lo8DqMhQwJrM3dxutCvVawz1hZPxKDPtm7Ktf3x8F6jA2zrznb6rEfV_9mFcEYI5MWYMLaCuYixQ1rGjDxM6XJaSQYXyg5EhTE-HdtXXki2VFFgfqk/s1600/IMG_0261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7TGzfNQ_XtwcVMoYflhIF5_d_Lo8DqMhQwJrM3dxutCvVawz1hZPxKDPtm7Ktf3x8F6jA2zrznb6rEfV_9mFcEYI5MWYMLaCuYixQ1rGjDxM6XJaSQYXyg5EhTE-HdtXXki2VFFgfqk/s640/IMG_0261.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We'd actually hadn't decided on a name. It was between Liv and Sloane. The nurses cast their vote which ended up just perfect. We named her after my grandma Elaine. I really wish she could have been here to meet her. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit69rGKSb5mgEoCnbyt-slky_ngktp763UosWkQeXsq3THqdY-D9-GZY_-2ob9fFAWqS_zL2V3864imkUyg5rS0IUh6QLZTCiEZzYV4kgJBwUZNenY_iuVK64AT-NJiy-MJNqVK6RY42I/s1600/IMG_0253.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit69rGKSb5mgEoCnbyt-slky_ngktp763UosWkQeXsq3THqdY-D9-GZY_-2ob9fFAWqS_zL2V3864imkUyg5rS0IUh6QLZTCiEZzYV4kgJBwUZNenY_iuVK64AT-NJiy-MJNqVK6RY42I/s640/IMG_0253.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I literally had puked about one minute before this picture was taken</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hVbk39H5R3mrUKZyafDHvEz_dp7n1EI5RRmRsXoTiGu0XI1hDyxLQf954-8C57BUElpjiH9eNXP3QFHSDgA0n5U8UsqbIzD23YsdPbDKQ0AdUFcxaSY7PB73rVE513QkRxUNtkEEuYQ/s1600/IMG_0264.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9hVbk39H5R3mrUKZyafDHvEz_dp7n1EI5RRmRsXoTiGu0XI1hDyxLQf954-8C57BUElpjiH9eNXP3QFHSDgA0n5U8UsqbIzD23YsdPbDKQ0AdUFcxaSY7PB73rVE513QkRxUNtkEEuYQ/s640/IMG_0264.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Taylor's face cracks me up in this picture. I hardly ever hear him call her Liv. He always calls her L or 'little one'. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4_o0Fi-zUQAWdCJnS1JUUklx4fE0Wf2FVfHg-D1DGIqpUgfsJxzznXfe5cWEC3wMU4ELH27Rzx95WmBFfXdG1g1_oYL2lwpfxCIJ5mlD1Jo6l7pmoUQBUl7LEj__QgURtwZ2otUx-4g/s1600/IMG_0269.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF4_o0Fi-zUQAWdCJnS1JUUklx4fE0Wf2FVfHg-D1DGIqpUgfsJxzznXfe5cWEC3wMU4ELH27Rzx95WmBFfXdG1g1_oYL2lwpfxCIJ5mlD1Jo6l7pmoUQBUl7LEj__QgURtwZ2otUx-4g/s640/IMG_0269.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I admit it, I put on lip gloss and put my hair up before the picture. Thank goodness, too. Taylor made fun of me because I still had my big pearl earrings in while I gave birth. But hey, a girl's gotta keep a little dignity. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBSATCvaV8kKTiQd62iYzIRxYKMfe7RNkLtBAEXjM5HnooPRSqid4-cjfQCj5wfHb0DOwtkYy-I1512UwMW0KAyDSbbMFMcTowlRm_POD3mPB6L5mvHEpm2Xe63ulfbi_U4AMfvFItpo/s1600/IMG_0274.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkBSATCvaV8kKTiQd62iYzIRxYKMfe7RNkLtBAEXjM5HnooPRSqid4-cjfQCj5wfHb0DOwtkYy-I1512UwMW0KAyDSbbMFMcTowlRm_POD3mPB6L5mvHEpm2Xe63ulfbi_U4AMfvFItpo/s640/IMG_0274.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">New best friends</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVxLaNO8xlhHtgvIq-9szbV43qTikajsLC2JP8WqOpb_235Is6P8eEjtjNogdJmXVw0OibbClunOh4n21CHSboQ9m7VtKdm5Vkm0dfkfYYz4fsg06sWA7VEAhiZaDz-Q9R6mRPukae3g/s1600/IMG_0278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlVxLaNO8xlhHtgvIq-9szbV43qTikajsLC2JP8WqOpb_235Is6P8eEjtjNogdJmXVw0OibbClunOh4n21CHSboQ9m7VtKdm5Vkm0dfkfYYz4fsg06sWA7VEAhiZaDz-Q9R6mRPukae3g/s640/IMG_0278.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Going home </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuOCdSkTLDTLa0NJWIt3IxEUaXFtrxvyfRwTNIRRvgCWcFByssXRwbT4bh6Ib9DLNFYV4BFw2MkTI-3zueybcMXYNXIiQTXD2RSxD8nF-YBezWIw4TBUSaW7A_jpXUdafs8hA9w-55k5A/s1600/IMG_0280.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuOCdSkTLDTLa0NJWIt3IxEUaXFtrxvyfRwTNIRRvgCWcFByssXRwbT4bh6Ib9DLNFYV4BFw2MkTI-3zueybcMXYNXIiQTXD2RSxD8nF-YBezWIw4TBUSaW7A_jpXUdafs8hA9w-55k5A/s640/IMG_0280.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Waiting for Daddy to come pick us up. Her headband is hilarious in the picture--going for the Rambo look I guess</span></td></tr>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-21553132809446735852011-10-30T10:34:00.000-07:002011-10-30T10:34:30.968-07:00Baby, it's cold outside.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I came downstairs this morning, just in socks and my short sleeve pjs to see this. I just don't think it's that cold in our house this morning. Apparently, I'm the only one...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYDjkoO4Y_8HCI5FUMMIzNAiqOnPvMTcr24qWwXH0OgXoAlHMpKfdvQcUuzgStd6YP79SpaAy5bNL94m0mqGBDUPziqC6eC4s_yJk3T6qLe6DAYOb4qLVP0uMD1Dpu_Swp6GlHKkFRjM/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-10-30+at+11.18.20+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYDjkoO4Y_8HCI5FUMMIzNAiqOnPvMTcr24qWwXH0OgXoAlHMpKfdvQcUuzgStd6YP79SpaAy5bNL94m0mqGBDUPziqC6eC4s_yJk3T6qLe6DAYOb4qLVP0uMD1Dpu_Swp6GlHKkFRjM/s640/Screen+shot+2011-10-30+at+11.18.20+AM.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Taylor wearing a beanie, long sleeve shirt, sweats, socks, slippers AND a snuggie! haha </span></td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">On another note, I'm sad I forgot to take pictures of our dinner party on Friday night. Taylor manages a team of about 10 people at work so we had them and their families over for dinner. We had pumpkin soup bowls, homemade chili and chicken noodle soup, a few other things and everyone brought desserts. But I forgot to pull out the camera. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Our dining table is still set up, so I figured we'll do it again tonight. I love holidays, so I believe today we'll be celebrating Sunday dinner, Halloween style...with asian cuisine. I know, it doesn't really go together, but it sounds good to me! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Happy Halloween! </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NshifwYpCyq9QRdhdcwDaBlIAMAxsGuMHShD-hhp6C9KeES6fCOB8wyLI_Es7YaAcPbmsc_CgtLkdOMllYViDtJTurrOKWfPXS8hmAD_ofZKDW6BSWj_N_DUywwa-xDDKlCKsOAqMnw/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-10-30+at+11.18.38+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7NshifwYpCyq9QRdhdcwDaBlIAMAxsGuMHShD-hhp6C9KeES6fCOB8wyLI_Es7YaAcPbmsc_CgtLkdOMllYViDtJTurrOKWfPXS8hmAD_ofZKDW6BSWj_N_DUywwa-xDDKlCKsOAqMnw/s640/Screen+shot+2011-10-30+at+11.18.38+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-386747866962089557.post-38290360454464551992011-10-25T09:16:00.000-07:002011-10-25T09:16:20.398-07:00Lock me upI'm home sick today...again...with a nasty cold which sounds as if it's merely been an inconvenience. Let me assure you, this is the worst I have felt in years, next to that one time I got really sick the week before I got married, but even then, I lost 7 pounds before my wedding so it's not like it was completely worthless. And I won't even go into the dangers of coughing while 9 months pregnant. <div><br />
</div><div>I've barely moved from my bed. But last week is proof this is where I belong--confined to my own home with little or no interaction with others. Last week I failed social conversation at it's worst. Two of my 'foot-in-the-mouth mishaps' were with co-workers, and one with a midget at Cafe Rio. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlJpvG4iLr7BmhkYjemkQ05dOgzmUhjAxjSa8JgdQNg4_3DACMW3IRiVs6AculNSQR6waU7wMs8LZJDu6K8prxGa_oB4d9SomeX4MNkc-xAataW23mTCr3NVeRtUosru8r3xPsr1YHdrI/s1600/awkward-is-my-specialty.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlJpvG4iLr7BmhkYjemkQ05dOgzmUhjAxjSa8JgdQNg4_3DACMW3IRiVs6AculNSQR6waU7wMs8LZJDu6K8prxGa_oB4d9SomeX4MNkc-xAataW23mTCr3NVeRtUosru8r3xPsr1YHdrI/s320/awkward-is-my-specialty.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>The first was with a male co-worker who is a total hypochondriac. After going through the list of ailments he thought he had, I insisted his mother was probably the reason behind all of this ridiculous paranoia. Because let's face it, we are products of our parents. I don't like touching public door knobs or the remote controls in hotels largely due to my own mother's influence; I am a bit of a germ-a-phobe. Well turns out, the answer is yes, his mother has played a significant role in his paranoia....because she is currently battling cancer. I felt like the biggest jerk. I apologized and silently excused myself. </div><div><br />
</div><div>The second was a similar situation, but I won't go into details other than the fact that it had to do with me giving a co-worker a hard time for canceling his RSVP to this awesome corporate holiday party I've been planning because his marital relationship is "a sensitive subject and complicated". Ouch. Okay, now I really sound awful! </div><div><br />
</div><div>And third, I was walking out of Cafe Rio with dinner to-go, and if you've ever been there at peak hours, it's a challenge just to make it out the door. As I pushed through the sea of people, all I could see was this sweet little girl (I couldn't see her face) holding the door open for me. Trying to encourage this young girl her manners were not to be taken for granted, I bent down and said thank you in an enthusiastically, high-pitched baby voice (I'd only to talk to children under 6 with), I see this midget adult staring back at me. The clearly annoyed look on her face said it all. Oops again. </div><div><br />
</div><div>3 strikes last week. Seriously, what is wrong with me? Lock. Me. Up. </div><div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3