<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554</id><updated>2012-02-12T07:51:15.752-06:00</updated><category term='kate'/><title type='text'>Chronicles of a sleep-deprived mama</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-8389934616655185374</id><published>2011-10-11T10:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-18T09:39:04.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family of Five</title><content type='html'>After what seemed like an eternity, our sweet Carissa Jayne finally made her appearance on September 27th at 4:43 in the afternoon. After having contractions for 2 solid months, we were sure our sweet girl would come on her own BEFORE her due date, but, proving herself a true Logan, she scoffed at our plans! Since I was so uncomfortable, Dr. Gardner scheduled me for an induction on September 22. So I called mom, she packed her bags and her dogs and headed up here to meet her newest granddaughter. Well, at 2:30 in the morning, I got a call from the hospital telling me that they were full, so I would have to reschedule. Ugh. The earliest they could get me in was Wednesday, the 28th. That was unacceptable to me, so I decided to do everything in my power to get the baby out myself. I tried every natural induction method out there. Went to the doctor on Monday the 26th, and all my efforts had resulted in exactly ZERO change. Baby was still high, and nothin' was happening down below. So discouraging. But, they WERE able to move my induction date up to Tuesday, and this time they couldn't cancel it since I was officially overdue. YAY, we were having a baby!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bright and early Tuesday morning, Josh and I kissed our girls good bye and headed to the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7h8GJmFVPvI/TpRf0WxlcKI/AAAAAAAAAKo/km62kAMnkJw/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7h8GJmFVPvI/TpRf0WxlcKI/AAAAAAAAAKo/km62kAMnkJw/s320/007.JPG" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;We got there around 7, waited for a room for about 15 minutes, and then got the party started. I'd never been induced before, so I was a bit nervous, but honestly, it was my best delivery of all three. Once the contractions got a little uncomfortable, I got my epidural and life was good. About 4:00, I was complaining about how hungry I was (if you know me well, you know that I get VERY grumpy if I'm not well-fed!), so my fabulous doctor volunteered to bring me a Fuzzy's taco on her way back to the hospital. Then, about 30 minutes later, I told the nurse that my epidural had stopped working, so she decided to check me and see how I was progressing. She had checked me about 30 minutes earlier, and I was 5 cm dilated, so we assumed I'd be maybe 6 cm this time. WRONG--I was 10 cm, and the baby was crowning. The nurse called Dr. G, who had just gotten back from getting my taco...she ran until the room, set the taco down, and 5 minutes later, Carissa was born.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-veHM1gE5Urc/TpRhTt8lwPI/AAAAAAAAAKw/hZ4YOdoQaBI/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-veHM1gE5Urc/TpRhTt8lwPI/AAAAAAAAAKw/hZ4YOdoQaBI/s320/023.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Love at first sight&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After the baby got cleaned up, we let the girls and our parents come in and meet her. Kate and Avery were SO excited to finally see their new sister...9 months is a LONG time for a 5 and 3 year old to wait!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtN4ZUHrjZk/TpRjf6o61EI/AAAAAAAAAK4/z54rAHfh-qM/s1600/the+girls+meet+their+sister.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="214" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtN4ZUHrjZk/TpRjf6o61EI/AAAAAAAAAK4/z54rAHfh-qM/s320/the+girls+meet+their+sister.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We hadn't decided on a name yet, but had narrowed it down to either Charlotte or Callie. After looking at her, we agreed that she&amp;nbsp;didn't&amp;nbsp;look like either of those, so we needed to think of something else. Carissa had been on our original list of girl's names, and we both thought it fit her perfectly!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We're all so in love with her, and I just can't wait to watch her grow and see who she becomes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-8389934616655185374?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/8389934616655185374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/10/family-of-five.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8389934616655185374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8389934616655185374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/10/family-of-five.html' title='Family of Five'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7h8GJmFVPvI/TpRf0WxlcKI/AAAAAAAAAKo/km62kAMnkJw/s72-c/007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7886631575737085583</id><published>2011-09-12T07:13:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-12T07:13:58.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindergarten!</title><content type='html'>*I started writing this post last week, but kept crying and gave up. Now I'm sitting here in my blissfully quiet house with my steaming cup of coffee, and I'm gonna give it one more go :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My first baby girl started kindergarten on Monday. That was a hard sentence to write. Kindergarten? Really? Wasn't she this little just last week?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGV9ts4DGOA/Tm3xQWOQFAI/AAAAAAAAAKg/PVJBThxV0l8/s1600/happy+baby--email.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGV9ts4DGOA/Tm3xQWOQFAI/AAAAAAAAAKg/PVJBThxV0l8/s320/happy+baby--email.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;That sweet little baby has now turned into this amazing little girl:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_Vzd2lkYy0/Tm30VkOS_aI/AAAAAAAAAKk/J2mDuaj0cpg/s1600/025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_Vzd2lkYy0/Tm30VkOS_aI/AAAAAAAAAKk/J2mDuaj0cpg/s320/025.JPG" width="214" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Look at her, all grown up. Kinda breaks my heart a little bit. But I'm so, so proud of the sweet girl she is.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;So the first day of kindergarten started out with a bit of drama when Josh mistakenly took my only set of car keys to work with him. I didn't realize the keys were missing until we were on our way out the door.&amp;nbsp;Uh..can you say PANIC? (note to self: locate keys at least 30 minutes prior to departure!) SO....I call Josh, freaking out, he races back home (thank goodness we live close to his office), and we make it to school about 10 minutes late.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;When we walked into the classroom, do you know what my daughter did? She put her backpack in her cubby, turned around, gave me a hug, and said "bye mom". That's it. No crying, no "mommy will you stay" nada. Who is this child, and what has she done with my clingy mama's girl? I made it out of the class without falling apart, but lost it the second my tush hit the car seat. Poor Avery didn't know what to make of any of it!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I found this poem that pretty much sums up everything I was/am feeling about my baby leaving me for kindergarten. Warning: if you have one that just started, this WILL make you cry (unless I'm just a pregnant, hormonal mess--and if that's the case, don't tell me.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: whitesmoke; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;strong style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;"&gt;&lt;em style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;"&gt;First Day of School poem&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;She started school this morning,&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;And she seemed so very small.&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;As I walked there beside her&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;In the Kindergarten hall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;And as she took her place beside&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;the others in the class,&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;I realized how all too soon&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;Those first few years can pass.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Remembering, I saw her as&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;She first learned how to walk.&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;The words that we alone made out&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;When she began to talk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;This little girl so much absorbed&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;In learning how to write.&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;It seems as though she must have grown&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;To girlhood overnight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;My eyes were blurred by hastily&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;I brushed the tears away&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;Lest by some word or sign of mine&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;I mar her first big day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;Oh how I longed to stay with her&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;And keep her by the hand&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;To lead her through the places&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;That she couldn’t understand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;And something closely kin to fear&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;Was mingled with my pride.&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;I knew she would no longer be&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;A baby by my side.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;But she must have her chance to live,&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;To work her problems out,&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;The privilege to grow and learn&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;What life is all about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="display: block; line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"&gt;And I must share my little girl&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;With friends and work and play;&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;She’s not a baby anymore –&lt;br style="line-height: 1.2em; outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;" /&gt;She’s in Kindergarten today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7886631575737085583?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7886631575737085583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/09/kindergarten.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7886631575737085583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7886631575737085583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/09/kindergarten.html' title='Kindergarten!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XGV9ts4DGOA/Tm3xQWOQFAI/AAAAAAAAAKg/PVJBThxV0l8/s72-c/happy+baby--email.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-8427980363439731617</id><published>2011-08-17T07:32:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-17T08:45:39.484-05:00</updated><title type='text'>9 Years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;How is it possible that Josh and I have been married for 9 years already?! Wasn't it just last week that we were making the drive from San Antonio to Lubbock to start our college adventure? Surely we aren't old enough to have been married this long and to have 2 (almost 3) kids together! I guess it's true what they say--time flies when you're having fun! Let's see if I can find some old pics of us crazy kids--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3fv664VoL0s/Tku7RzFJR_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/OMY4xByITsM/s320/b%2526J.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641808872655636466" /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ah, young love! This was taken at Josh's house when we&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;were freshmen in college.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-74v5ZZCQEzs/Tku77jTmBYI/AAAAAAAAAKM/xfrmbcfxLx4/s320/b%2526j5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641809589975778690" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 229px; " /&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is probably one of the first pictures we took together. W&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;e were probably 17. I still remember this day vividly, so surely it hasn't been 15 years since we took this picture, right?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oFL0A3Axl9o/Tku7neg_EYI/AAAAAAAAAKE/utbehGmQtEo/s320/B%2526J%2B2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641809245092385154" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;i&gt;What high school romance wouldn't be complete without a prom picture? Check&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;out the awesome backdrop!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jBov__JL0X0/Tku9Vhu7XEI/AAAAAAAAAKU/CgeKAMdHiEs/s320/Brooke%2B%2526%2BJosh.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641811135741779010" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 256px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;All that brings us to this day--the happiest day of my lif&lt;/i&gt;e.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YJluGyYyfl0/TkvEMGyMQ0I/AAAAAAAAAKc/zIO78Vteh2A/s320/DSC_0645.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641818670470284098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt; We've come a long way from that fabulous day...and I wouldn't change a thing.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-8427980363439731617?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/8427980363439731617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/08/9-years.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8427980363439731617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8427980363439731617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/08/9-years.html' title='9 Years!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3fv664VoL0s/Tku7RzFJR_I/AAAAAAAAAJ8/OMY4xByITsM/s72-c/b%2526J.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-3346404784519349816</id><published>2011-08-14T07:51:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T08:22:09.476-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The little years</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Little Years are tough. You know, the years when your kids need you CONSTANTLY? Yeah, it's tough. "&lt;i&gt;Mommy, I'm hungry." , "I need to go pot&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;ty, mommy.", "Mommy, will you play with me?" "PLEEEEAAAASSSEE, Mommy?"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S7jIeZzgn-s/TkfGt4XQzoI/AAAAAAAAAJs/sKpsMja8nDQ/s320/914.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640695549831204482" /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some days, it's all I can do to keep from turning on the Disney Channel for them, locking myself in my room, and hiding until Josh gets home from work. But why? They aren't doing anything wrong. They're just being kids. Who God intended them to be. I CHOSE to stay home with them so I could be a part of their every day and not miss a thing, not so I could spend my days counting the hours until bed time. (Come on, you know we've all done that!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's my confession of the day.  Sometimes I totally lose it with my kids when they haven't even really done anything terribly bad. It's just the culmination of two kids whining or fighting, + the kitchen timer screaming at me, + that darn dust ball on the living room floor that's been staring at me all day....you get the picture. So I lose it. And then I feel terrible. It's not the kids' fault that it hasn't rained in months, so there's dust everywhere. Or that I waited until the last minute to cook dinner, so I'm scrambling to get it done before everyone has a complete hunger meltdown, or that I'm 8 months pregnant. So they feel terrible about being yelled at by "mean mom", and I feel terrible for yelling at them. No one wins.  This had been on my mind a lot, when lo and behold, I stumbled across this book a couple of weeks ago:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9sSbmwA8cE0/TkfIae8YAEI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/2G-rx-c_xvM/s320/book.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me tell you, this is a fantastic book for anyone who has little kids at home. It's written by a lady who has 5 kids 5 and under at home (yep, you read that right). And if &lt;i&gt; she &lt;/i&gt;can love the little years, then surely &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; can too!  I really think it has changed the way a respond to my kids on a daily basis. I'm trying harder to see things from THEIR point of view. Little girls who just want to be with me and &lt;i&gt;help&lt;/i&gt; me--not be in my way and &lt;i&gt;annoy&lt;/i&gt; me. Do I still get frustrated on a daily basis? Absolutely. But has this book helped me in the way I handle that frustration? Without a doubt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;God gave me these precious children to raise and teach. It's a HARD job, but one that I wouldn't give up in a million years. The Little Years are tough....together, God and I are tougher!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; background-color: rgb(255, 255, 255); "&gt;&lt;strong style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Psalm 127:3-5&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-3346404784519349816?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/3346404784519349816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/08/little-years.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3346404784519349816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3346404784519349816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/08/little-years.html' title='The little years'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-S7jIeZzgn-s/TkfGt4XQzoI/AAAAAAAAAJs/sKpsMja8nDQ/s72-c/914.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-5654635677624754604</id><published>2011-08-09T07:11:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-09T07:35:57.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We just got back from a much-needed vacation. 5 days at the beach in an amazing condo owned by Josh's family (which means it was also an almost-free vacation!) We didn't do anything the whole time we were there except go to the pool, go to the beach, and sit on the balcony and watch dolphins. Man, did we ever need that. The girls got some much-needed daddy time, I got a few naps in, and Josh got a break from work. It was good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jM-fojy0P38/TkEpP6DDDvI/AAAAAAAAAJk/-0dZhR7Bc70/s320/K%2526A.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638833561701388018" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;i&gt;Ready to find some sea shells!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5_1GWacAHTY/TkEpDkahxAI/AAAAAAAAAJc/1L9oIl8vihI/s320/mommy%2Band%2Bher%2Bgirls.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638833349735859202" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;i&gt;My sweet girls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the way back to Ft. Worth, we stopped in San Antonio for a day and the girls got some grandparent time while Josh and I got a date day. We shopped for baby stuff, saw a movie, and actually had a peaceful mean. Nice. Even though all of that was wonderful, I was SO happy when we finally pulled into our driveway on Saturday night. My bed had been calling my name the whole week long. Now it's back to the real world. Cleaning, cooking, getting ready for KINDERGARTEN!! Where in the world has this summer gone?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-5654635677624754604?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/5654635677624754604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/08/vacation.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5654635677624754604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5654635677624754604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/08/vacation.html' title='Vacation!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jM-fojy0P38/TkEpP6DDDvI/AAAAAAAAAJk/-0dZhR7Bc70/s72-c/K%2526A.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1889710574922285543</id><published>2011-07-23T07:43:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T07:46:49.060-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trying again</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I haven't blogged in almost a year. Life got busy. But, I was looking back through my posts, and realized that I really need to start this up again. I love being able to have a place to write down the things the kids are doing, or what's going on in our lives and look back on it later. SO...that being said, I'm gonna fire this blog up again and see what happens. No promises, no pressure!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1889710574922285543?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1889710574922285543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/07/trying-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1889710574922285543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1889710574922285543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2011/07/trying-again.html' title='Trying again'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-5013066400057412608</id><published>2010-08-20T14:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-23T08:17:19.182-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;What I got for my anniversary/birthday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TG7SFVSvvZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/r47IIsoAVLY/s320/camera.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 220px; height: 220px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507570383377644946" /&gt;It was fate. I've been wanting a DSLR for ages, but couldn't stomach the price tag. But then I wandered into Target after my dentist appt the other day, and here this one sat. On clearance. For $200 lower than the normal price. Sweet. Watch out kids, mama's got a brand new camera!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-5013066400057412608?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/5013066400057412608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/08/look.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5013066400057412608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5013066400057412608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/08/look.html' title='Look...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TG7SFVSvvZI/AAAAAAAAAG8/r47IIsoAVLY/s72-c/camera.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-8108667034497901264</id><published>2010-07-28T16:20:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T21:38:03.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know I might complain every now and then about my crazy kids, my messy husband, or my in-laws, but I.am.blessed. I have some friends who are going through some really tough times right now, and their situations have served as a reminder to me that I should be thankful for everything God has given me:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TFQZm4cySWI/AAAAAAAAAGo/82FZTmIi2Fo/s320/100_5874.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500049200705063266" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And Her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TFCgMFPkbII/AAAAAAAAAGY/vacpXSeN0cI/s320/wall4.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499071274445728898" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And Her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TFCf3NjlHyI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/QTvZisNum5o/s320/wall7.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499070915899891490" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And all of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TFQZzunB9hI/AAAAAAAAAGw/fGY6NV23W_4/s320/100_5928.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500049421401978386" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Seriously, I couldn't ask for a better life. And better people to share it with. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-8108667034497901264?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/8108667034497901264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/07/blessed.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8108667034497901264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8108667034497901264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/07/blessed.html' title='Blessed'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TFQZm4cySWI/AAAAAAAAAGo/82FZTmIi2Fo/s72-c/100_5874.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-4117340069874720277</id><published>2010-07-25T00:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T00:12:57.015-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Weird</title><content type='html'>I can't sleep. This doesn't happen to me, I'm a champion sleeper, if I do say so myself. It's midnight--by now I've usually been out for 2 hours. Huh. I even had a couple of glasses of wine, but I'm still kickin'. I've read every blog I follow, checked facebook, balanced the budget, and cleaned the house. I'm out of stuff to do. I have Jerry Maguire on, but I really hate Tom Cruise, so I can't get into it. Let's see, what's going on in my life right now?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-we painted the living room today, it looks fabulous. Now if I could only figure out how to get high enough to paint the 25 foot walls in the rest of the house....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-we got the girls new bunkbeds, but have yet to put the top bunk on. The bottom is a full bed, so they're just sleeping in that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-did I mention that I spent hours painting and decorating a room that Avery refuses to sleep in?It's CUTE too. I'm not bitter though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I can't decide whether to hang the TV above the fireplace or to get a new entertainment center to hide it in...opinions welcome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I feel like this summer is going by WAY too fast&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I'm training for my first 10K, but am finding it very difficult to run in the ridiculous heat that defines summer in Texas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-One minute I think I'm ready for another baby, then the next minute, I'm terrified by the thought of wrangling 3 kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I have a fabulous group of friends, and I feel so blessed that God has put them all in my life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I'm going to San Antonio for a week the first week of August. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-I think maybe I've bored myself enough with this post that I'm ready to go to bed now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-4117340069874720277?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/4117340069874720277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/07/weird.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/4117340069874720277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/4117340069874720277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/07/weird.html' title='Weird'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1839079185805578641</id><published>2010-06-26T07:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T08:01:53.092-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Crazy....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCX3llb2X3I/AAAAAAAAAGA/j0OlYmWqZzk/s1600/DSC01459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCX3llb2X3I/AAAAAAAAAGA/j0OlYmWqZzk/s320/DSC01459.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487063946096959346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's cute, right? Yeah, she is, but she's also crazy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we went to Sports Authority last night to get a few things, and on the way out, Kate tripped and fell. I know immediately that this would make for a long night. No, no, don't worry, she wasn't terribly injured...but SHE thought she was. First, she made Josh look to see if there was a scrape because she just couldn't bear to look. He reported that there was a small scratch, but no blood was present. She whimpered all the way to the car and all the way home. When we got out of the car, she started limping. Except when she saw the frog and RAN to see it. Then she must've remembered about the scratch, because the limp reappeared. I asked her if she wanted a band-aid, but she said her scratch hurt too bad to put a band-aid on. Huh? Fast forward a few minutes later to bed time. The child is CRAWLING on the carpet. Crawling on the scratch that is supposedly so bad that it makes her limp. She also insisted on her knee being covered up with the throw from my living room when she went to bed. She said it would help her knee to feel better. Crazy, I tell you. Just crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;**please don't think I'm an uncaring mother--the child didn't fall hard enough to break anything (barely even broke the skin). She acts this way every.time. she gets a scratch. Crazy kid.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1839079185805578641?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1839079185805578641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/06/shes-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1839079185805578641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1839079185805578641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/06/shes-crazy.html' title='She&apos;s Crazy....'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCX3llb2X3I/AAAAAAAAAGA/j0OlYmWqZzk/s72-c/DSC01459.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-4098650221466606177</id><published>2010-06-23T15:09:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T15:34:02.807-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ta-da!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So here's the house that has been occupying all my time for the past few months...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCJrFoc8BzI/AAAAAAAAAFg/mumlTWmFPPo/s320/DSC01538.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486065040592996146" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Front View&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCJrSs46gYI/AAAAAAAAAFo/nwWsW9N7BLM/s320/DSC01539.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486065265122378114" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My very favorite place to sit in the evenings&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCJsj994IqI/AAAAAAAAAF4/TG07YIbmBDk/s320/kitchen.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486066661276000930" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kitchen (this is what sold me on the house)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCJr-XtcW6I/AAAAAAAAAFw/tztJApm_Po4/s320/LR.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486066015351364514" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Living Room&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm still having a hard time believing that this is OUR house. I'm not just borrowing it, no one is going to take it back....it's OURS. I loved our other house, but this one is just unbelievable. There is still A LOT left to do, but we spent all our money on the down payment, so we'll have to do things as we can afford them. Unfortunately, my personality traits do not include patience. I want every room to be perfect. Right now. Josh, on the other hand, is completely content with having to step around boxes to get to the laundry room, setting his alarm clock on the floor since the nightstand got broken in the move, etc. If only I could be a bit more like him and he could be a bit more like me....I guess that's why we compliment each other so nicely! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-4098650221466606177?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/4098650221466606177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/06/ta-da.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/4098650221466606177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/4098650221466606177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/06/ta-da.html' title='Ta-da!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TCJrFoc8BzI/AAAAAAAAAFg/mumlTWmFPPo/s72-c/DSC01538.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-3093664373455138563</id><published>2010-06-16T21:54:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-16T22:30:48.841-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'd like to re-introduce myself...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My name is Brooke, and I'm a terrible blogger. In my defense though, we've had A LOT going on the past few months. Let me re-cap what has happened since my last post in October....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I survived Thanksgiving in San Antonio with the in-laws, then spent a fabulous 10 days in the beautiful mountains of New Mexico over Christmas/New Year's. It definitely ranked up there with the best vacations ever (even though my kids HATED the snow and downright refused to go outside!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TBmV6-H-OOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/fsvtdTWZxO0/s320/100_5937.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483578861641677026" /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;This was Kate's reaction every time she stepped outside. I guess she's a Texas &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;girl through-and-through!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TBmWE3F-KjI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/KfZN7VXYe8I/s320/100_5935.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483579031552928306" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; display: inline !important; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "&gt;&lt;i&gt; Avery was a little more tolerant, but still would have much preferred to be inside.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TBmSH3e9pyI/AAAAAAAAAEo/CNQV4ec7Iy4/s320/100_5928.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5483574685150848802" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The whole crew (aside from my kids, who were toasty warm inside)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got back from New Mexico, Josh decided that we should put the house on the market and see if we got any bites. We had no real hope that it would sell, since it sat on the market for 6 months a couple years ago. But, with the tax credit ending in April, we decided to try. Here's the whirlwind part....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feb. 19--house went on the market&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feb. 21--first showing&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Feb. 23--the first people who saw the house made an offer! It was a terrible offer, but eventually we were able to find a price that worked for both parties. Getting to that point took a couple of weeks, so I was still having to keep the house spotless for other showings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;March 1-finally had a signed contract on the house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;March 1-20--searched frantically, day and night for a new home...failed. Learned that Josh and I have extremely different "must haves" when considering homes. His requirements were ridiculous (mine make perfect sense). He seriously wouldn't even look at houses that backed up to another house. He wanted to back up to a greenbelt. That eliminated 90 percent of homes on the market. Our marriage was under serious stress, so we decided to just stop looking and move into an apartment for a month. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;March 20th--Said good bye to our first home and moved into a ridiculously small apartment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;March-April--Made offers on 2 houses, with no luck. Finally made an offer on a third house, and it was accepted. The house was in pre-forclosure, so the paperwork was insane. We not only had to deal with the seller, but the bank too. I can't even count the number of times we almost backed out. Oh, and the owners, being mad that they were being foreclosed on, decided to take the oven, ceiling fans, shower heads, thermostats, and drawer pulls before handing over the keys. Morons. So much for going out with dignity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;May 16th-finally closed on the new house!! It was a pain in the rear, but in the end, all the trouble was worth it. We got a fabulous house, and a killer price and already have more equity in it that most people have after 5 years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since then, we've been constantly busy with hanging ceiling fans, buying appliances, unpacking, painting, etc. It's been crazy, but I love it. Kate and Avery have made themselves right at home, and are loving having so much more space. The neighborhood is great too, with 7 pools and lots of ponds and walking trails. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;SO....all that to say, I've been busy and blogging hasn't been on my list of things to do. Not to mention, we didn't have Internet in the apartment and for the first couple of weeks in the house. Life is calming down now, and I really do want to get back into this. I'd post a pic of the house, but I haven't downloaded any yet. That will come next, for now, I'm saying good night!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-3093664373455138563?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/3093664373455138563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/06/id-like-to-re-introduce-myself.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3093664373455138563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3093664373455138563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2010/06/id-like-to-re-introduce-myself.html' title='I&apos;d like to re-introduce myself...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/TBmV6-H-OOI/AAAAAAAAAFI/fsvtdTWZxO0/s72-c/100_5937.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-6439542755029235268</id><published>2009-10-28T13:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T13:57:56.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday drama already?</title><content type='html'>So our family doesn't have the best record when it comes to holidays. Without fail, one (or both) sets of parents feels shortchanged, and Josh and I are run completely ragged. We go back and forth between J's parents and my mom's house so many times, we wear grooves in the pavement. Don't even get me started on trying to see my dad and step mom. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But that's Christmas. Thanksgiving is different. When I started working at The Salvation Army, I always had to work on Thanksgiving Day, so that meant Josh and I stayed here. My mom and little brother always come up, and once J's parents and sister even came. It worked for us. At least we got one holiday that we enjoyed. Well, Josh broke it to me last night that we're going to San Antonio for T-day this year. Did he ask me? No, he TOLD me. Yeah, I was not a happy wife. Here's our conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: We should run the turkey trot on Thanksgiving&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J:Yeah, I'm sure they have one in San Antonio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: What does that have to do with anything?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J: Oh, we're going down there this year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Huh? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J: Yeah, mom and dad sent an email saying that they're staying there, and anyone who wants to is welcome to come to them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Huh? Didn't you invite them up here?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J: Yeah, I guess they didn't want to come. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Huh? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;J: What?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: I gotta go running before I explode...see ya. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, I feel like my world is upside down. For those of you who don't know, I'm a planner. I like to have my calendar written out months in advance. I don't like surprises. Now, to be fair to Josh, he just wants to see his family for a holiday. We won't be with them for Xmas since we're going to a cabin in New Mexico (side note: we invited them to accompany us, but they declined). But seriously, why can't his parents come here? We invite them up here multiple times a year, and they probably come twice. It's not like he has several other siblings who would be left with no place to go if his parents came here. He has one sister, and we invited her too. Now I have to break it to my mom that we will not be spending Thanksgiving with her like we usually do. I hate breaking bad news to people (especially my mom). She really doesn't have any other family, so I don't know what she'll do for Thanksgiving now. Ugh. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and on top of that, I have to work until 9: 30 pm the Wed. night before T-day, so we'll either get to SA in the middle of the night, or have to leave Thanksgiving morning. I also have to work the Saturday after, so that leaves us fewer than 48 hours before we have to load the kids and dog back up and go home. Now that I think about it, maybe that's a good thing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-6439542755029235268?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/6439542755029235268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/10/holiday-drama-already.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6439542755029235268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6439542755029235268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/10/holiday-drama-already.html' title='Holiday drama already?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1885485625397134434</id><published>2009-10-14T20:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T20:40:01.067-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kidless for a day</title><content type='html'>So my kidless weekend was AMAZING. We shopped, we ate, we shopped some more...then we ate some more. Unfortunately, my sleep wasn't much better than it is at home, thanks to a serious thunderstorm and a phone call at 7 am. That's okay though, who needs sleep anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Josh ended up taking the girls to his parent's while I was gone. Wuss. I'm sure my in-laws were ecstatic that they got to see the kids while I wasn't around. I was a little worried about how Avery would do in a strange place without me, but apparently she didn't even notice I was gone. Nice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had such an amazing time, we've decided that we should have a weekend like this at least every 3 months. Surprisingly, Josh agrees. Yay! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now we begin our crazy fall schedule...at last look, we have exactly 1 free weekend from now until Thanksgiving....yikes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1885485625397134434?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1885485625397134434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/10/kidless-for-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1885485625397134434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1885485625397134434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/10/kidless-for-day.html' title='Kidless for a day'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-5216729909355771668</id><published>2009-09-29T20:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T21:23:48.581-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You do the math</title><content type='html'>My job is wearing me out. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Job?" You say, "don't you just stay at home with your kids?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I do. And let me assure you, that IS a job. It's not a&lt;i&gt; sit on the couch and watch Oprah&lt;/i&gt; kind of job, either. Do you know how many times a day I get to sit down for more than 5 minutes at a time? I actually counted today, because I knew my readers would want to know. 4. That's right, FOUR. And, in case you were wondering, those 4 times were in the car. When I was in my house, I never sat down for more than 5 minutes. Not even at lunch. Oh, wait, I didn't eat lunch today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that the kids are in bed, I'm actually sitting down, and I've had a little time to crunch a few numbers. My kids get up around 6:30 am. They go to bed at 7:30 p.m. That's 13 hours of awake time. For 11.5 hours, I am their sole caregiver. That's 57.5 hours/week that I'm by myself at my job. For the other 33.5 hours during the week that my kids are awake, I have assistance from Josh, but I'm still at work. Add it all up, and I'm at work for &lt;i&gt;at least&lt;/i&gt; 91 hours a week. That doesn't include any nightwakings that might occur (which have been happening all too frequently lately!) No wonder I'm worn out! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Over the weekend, I realized that I need a break. I cannot be the mom and wife that I want to be unless I take care of myself and get some "me" time every now and then. I've been blaming Josh for not ever giving me time away from the kids, but really, a lot of it is my fault. I have this incredible guilt complex that attacks me whenever I even consider doing something for myself. Most of the time it stops me in my tracks and I just stay at home. Then when Josh takes time for himself, I completely resent him for it. Not good for anyone. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...drumroll, please....I'm going away this weekend! Without my kids! Or my husband! I'm meeting my mom in Austin to shop and relax. I can't wait! Mom and I have been talking about a trip like this since Kate was a baby, and now we're finally going! And best of all, I'm not feeling guilty about. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Okay, maybe a little, but I'm going anyway&lt;/span&gt;. Josh has NEVER been by himself with the girls for more than a few hours, so this will be an adventure for us all! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-5216729909355771668?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/5216729909355771668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-do-math.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5216729909355771668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5216729909355771668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/you-do-math.html' title='You do the math'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-6631465157857753377</id><published>2009-09-17T10:58:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T11:05:16.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little mommies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdZN2OUDI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oHQ0_Fri0b8/s1600-h/DSC00612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdZN2OUDI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oHQ0_Fri0b8/s320/DSC00612.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382467192456368178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdCddq8hI/AAAAAAAAAEI/CCwpsc-VnoI/s1600-h/DSC00609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdCddq8hI/AAAAAAAAAEI/CCwpsc-VnoI/s320/DSC00609.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382466801511363090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdxGrAl1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/REdVPPQD9dg/s1600-h/DSC00615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdxGrAl1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/REdVPPQD9dg/s320/DSC00615.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382467602847143762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-6631465157857753377?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/6631465157857753377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-mommies.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6631465157857753377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6631465157857753377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-mommies.html' title='Little mommies'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SrJdZN2OUDI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/oHQ0_Fri0b8/s72-c/DSC00612.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1918633054886073703</id><published>2009-09-15T10:41:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T07:57:50.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Us</title><content type='html'>My kids are great. They're cute, sweet, precocious, amazing...you get the idea. And that's why this blog is mainly about them. But today, I'm going to leave all the cute things the kids have done this week to your imagination and focus on my other love....my husband. Sometimes in the craziness of kids, work, house, friends, etc., I lose focus on how I got here in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I actually went to the same school starting in 6th grade, but we didn't meet until our senior year.  We started dating 5 months before we graduated. At the time, he was planning on going to Texas Tech, and I already had a dorm and roommate secured at A&amp;amp;M. We were going to try to make the long-distance thing work, but I wasn't sure how. Then I decided to change my major...and it just so happened that Tech had a much better program than A&amp;amp;M, so a Red Raider I became! (On a side note, I dropped out of that program 2 semesters in!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a long story short, we dated through college, and Josh proposed to me on the way home to SA for Thanksgiving about a month before we graduated. We got married 9 months later, moved to Fort Worth, bought a house, got a dog, had a kid, had another kid, and that brings us to today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There it is...an abridged version of us. We have basically grown up together. We've gone from being 17-year-olds who knew nothing, to 30-year-olds who know a little bit, but still have a long way to go. I have learned a few things in the last 13 years though...being married to a kind, Godly man is what every girl deserves, and I'm so grateful that God brought Josh and me together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I love about Josh:&lt;br /&gt;-He loves God and is teaching our kids to love God.&lt;br /&gt;-He is an AMAZING daddy.&lt;br /&gt;-He doesn't care what other people think about him.&lt;br /&gt;-When he sets his mind to something, he doesn't stop until it gets done.&lt;br /&gt;-He's a great provider and works hard so I can stay at home with the girls.&lt;br /&gt;-He loves coffee almost as much as I do.&lt;br /&gt;-He doesn't care if I cook dinner every night.&lt;br /&gt;-He tells me I look beautiful, even when my hair is frizzy and I have a big zit on my nose.&lt;br /&gt;-He takes over with the girls in the evenings so I can go do things by myself.&lt;br /&gt;-He occasionally watches chick flicks with me (don't tell him I told you!)&lt;br /&gt;-He puts up with my HGTV obsession.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. Now, if I ever complain about him on this blog, you'll have to remember that you read this and I really do love him.....even if he does drive me crazy on occasion!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is from a couple of years ago, but it's the most recent picture I have of just the two of us...guess we should be better about picture-taking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sq--G4rARlI/AAAAAAAAAEA/3j-9J4PQjJ8/s1600-h/b%26J.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sq--G4rARlI/AAAAAAAAAEA/3j-9J4PQjJ8/s320/b%26J.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381729105232283218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1918633054886073703?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1918633054886073703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/us.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1918633054886073703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1918633054886073703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/us.html' title='Us'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sq--G4rARlI/AAAAAAAAAEA/3j-9J4PQjJ8/s72-c/b%26J.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7138057729622601046</id><published>2009-09-05T20:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-05T21:19:47.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Avery!</title><content type='html'>A year and 2 days ago, we met this beautiful face:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMXrAggu5I/AAAAAAAAADo/HQM9IZDLKiE/s1600-h/avery+newborn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMXrAggu5I/AAAAAAAAADo/HQM9IZDLKiE/s320/avery+newborn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378168407648680850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Amazing how things change in a year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMYMPX2usI/AAAAAAAAADw/Kk3ICGPA21Y/s1600-h/avery+birthday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMYMPX2usI/AAAAAAAAADw/Kk3ICGPA21Y/s320/avery+birthday.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378168978574588610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I cannot believe that my sweet baby is already a year old. She's not a baby anymore--she walks all over the place, is starting to talk (her favorite word is "NO!") and is a girl who most definitely knows what she wants and isn't the least bit afraid to scream until she gets it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little girl is so full of life and personality--it's crazy to think that just 12 months ago all she did was eat, sleep and poop. I can't even remember what our lives were like without her, it's like she's always been here. It's such a joy to watch her learn and grow every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun facts about Avery:&lt;br /&gt;-Started walking about a month ago, and hasn't looked back since!&lt;br /&gt;-Has about 5 words (mama, dada, kate, dog, no)&lt;br /&gt;-Still only has two teeth, but that doesn't stop her from eating everything in sight!&lt;br /&gt;-NEVER sits still. We have kissed our days of eating out goodbye for now, it's not worth it to fight with Avery the whole time!)&lt;br /&gt;-Is obsessed with dolls. Walks around holding them to her chest and "shushing" them. It's pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;-Is pretty rough &amp;amp; tumble. She got a black eye the other day, and barely even flinched.&lt;br /&gt;-LOVES her sister and wants to do everything Kate does. Kate is pretty tolerant of this, surprisingly.&lt;br /&gt;-Still has pretty bad stranger anxiety. I haven't gotten to sit through a whole church service in months b/c the nursery has to call me to come get her after about 15 minutes of crying :(&lt;br /&gt;-Is a complete mama's girl, and I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMb1RBFY9I/AAAAAAAAAD4/UVlWxBF6CCc/s1600-h/cool+avery.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMb1RBFY9I/AAAAAAAAAD4/UVlWxBF6CCc/s320/cool+avery.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378172981925471186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had her birthday party today, but I don't have the energy to write about it right now. Maybe tomorrow....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7138057729622601046?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7138057729622601046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-birthday-avery.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7138057729622601046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7138057729622601046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-birthday-avery.html' title='Happy Birthday, Avery!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SqMXrAggu5I/AAAAAAAAADo/HQM9IZDLKiE/s72-c/avery+newborn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-3137535771537179584</id><published>2009-09-01T20:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T21:08:43.169-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahem...</title><content type='html'>It has been called to my attention that my blog has been sorely neglected this summer. I don't know why, but sometimes I get in writing funks. The last time I blogged was right after K's bday. Here's a quick rundown on what has happened in my life since then:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I turned 30 ( I was in denial that this would actually occur, but when I woke up on July 18th, my 20's had jumped ship)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Josh and I celebrated our 7th anniversary. Crazy. We have a severe lack of babysitters, so we ordered Chinese takeout and drank wine after the girls went to bed.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We took our first vacation as a family of 4. Stayed at Josh's aunt's AMAZING condo in Port Aransas. Seriously, this place was 10 times nicer than my house. And it's only used a handful of times a year! The vacation deserves a post of its own--stay tuned!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And last, but not least....Kate started pre-school today!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sp3RvQQwUOI/AAAAAAAAADg/k3xA6cKG188/s1600-h/DSC00550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sp3RvQQwUOI/AAAAAAAAADg/k3xA6cKG188/s320/DSC00550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376684139899539682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Look at her--she's practically a grown-up! I think I was more nervous than Kate about school starting. I mean, how would she survive without me for 5 hours? She &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;needs &lt;/span&gt;me, right? Right? The kid practically jumped into the car this morning and barely looked up from her blocks when I left her at school. To say the first day was a success is an understatement. She LOVED it. It helps that one of my best friends is her teacher, so she felt pretty comfortable there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People kept asking me if I cried when I dropped her off. I think I probably would have, if it weren't for Avery screaming the entire way home because she was mad that I didnt' leave her there with Kate. She provided a nice distraction from my sadness that my first baby is growing up. I do have to say though, it was nice having some 1:1 time with Avery. She never gets any mommy time, so I think this will be good for all of us!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-3137535771537179584?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/3137535771537179584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/ahem.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3137535771537179584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3137535771537179584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/09/ahem.html' title='Ahem...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sp3RvQQwUOI/AAAAAAAAADg/k3xA6cKG188/s72-c/DSC00550.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-794558781692570462</id><published>2009-07-08T20:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T20:42:14.505-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy, Happy Birthday!</title><content type='html'>Kate is 3, how could that be? Wasn't it just  a few months ago that we brought that little bitty bundle of joy home from the hospital, totally terrified that we were going to break her before the day was over? When Kate was a baby, I didn't want her to grow up. I thought there was no way that I could love a toddler/preschooler/teenager as much as I loved that sweet baby. Wrong. I love that child more every day. She was a precious baby, but I think I'm loving these toddler years even more. She's SO funny. A conversation from last night (mind you, I was in the middle of cooking dinner:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Mommy, please get me some milk&lt;br /&gt;Me: Okay, just a second&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;about 5 minutes pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Mommy, you never got me my milk&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oops, sorry, I'll get it in a minute&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a couple more minutes pass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: FOCUS, Mommy, I NEED my milk!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post pics and party details later, but for now will leave you with a picture of the birthday girl swinging on her new swingset:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SlVKSyUckZI/AAAAAAAAADY/kshYXstVnYk/s1600-h/swinging.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SlVKSyUckZI/AAAAAAAAADY/kshYXstVnYk/s320/swinging.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356269018432704914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-794558781692570462?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/794558781692570462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-happy-birthday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/794558781692570462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/794558781692570462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/07/happy-happy-birthday.html' title='Happy, Happy Birthday!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SlVKSyUckZI/AAAAAAAAADY/kshYXstVnYk/s72-c/swinging.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1947558098361088254</id><published>2009-06-26T14:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T14:23:09.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Splish-splash!</title><content type='html'>No air conditioning for 2.5 days meant a lot of time spent at the pool. K's a little nervous in the water-- you would think the world had come to an end to hear her scream when her face gets wet. But, as long as she has her beloved fishy float, she's as happy as a clam. &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351715907251192098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SkUdQ1aDwSI/AAAAAAAAADI/Ra_5XFAdugs/s320/100_5088.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Avery on the other hand, LOVES the water. Couldn't care less if you dunk her, and willingly sticks her face in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351716762778215250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SkUeCofmI1I/AAAAAAAAADQ/qGxJRsnJKeI/s320/100_5084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love watching these two precious girls grow and seeing their different personalities emerge. Kate is our cautious girl, and somewhat of a drama queen. She is extremely smart, and that makes her somewhat of a challenge. Sometimes I forget that she's not even 3 years old.&lt;br /&gt;Avery dives headfirst into anything and doesn't seem to mind much when she gets hurt. She already beats up on her poor sister. Now that Avery is getting older, they are actually starting to play together, and that always warms my heart. I never had a sister, so I love that my girls have each other!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1947558098361088254?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1947558098361088254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/splish-splash.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1947558098361088254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1947558098361088254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/splish-splash.html' title='Splish-splash!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SkUdQ1aDwSI/AAAAAAAAADI/Ra_5XFAdugs/s72-c/100_5088.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-6919050607476054575</id><published>2009-06-15T16:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T17:02:34.104-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A weekend with one</title><content type='html'>Josh took Kate to San Antonio over the weekend, leaving me with only Avery. I had honestly forgotten what it was like to only have one kid. So.much.easier. Why didn't I have a clean house when I only had Kate to tend to? Why wasn't dinner always ready by 6, and why didn't I have time to take up sewing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and Kate headed out early Saturday morning. By Saturday night, I had cleaned the house, gone shopping for baby shower decorations for the next day, made a diaper cake, and watched 2 movies. Oh, and played with Avery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so nice to get some 1:1 time with sweet Avery. We don't ever really get that kind of time, since she naps at the same time as K. It's hard to believe that she's 9 months old now...where has the time gone? She's cruising like crazy, and has even stood by herself a few times. She waves bye-bye; she claps; and she dances anytime music comes on. Oh, and she also likes to give high-fives. She demanded one from the doctor the other day at her appointment. Speaking of her appointment, she's doing beautifully. She's checking in at 18 lb, 8 ounces (50th%) and is 28 3/4" long (80th%).  She's a full pound and a half lighter than Kate was at this age...I think it's because she NEVER STOPS MOVING!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjbCTR-GZxI/AAAAAAAAAC4/LE9Cy1pAvVM/s1600-h/100_4872.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjbCTR-GZxI/AAAAAAAAAC4/LE9Cy1pAvVM/s320/100_4872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347675244046214930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, and I got Kate's birthday invites done too...hard to believe she'll be 3 in less than 3 weeks! She requested a Strawberry Shortcake party, so that's what she'll get!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjbC8FV-RfI/AAAAAAAAADA/jIdxG-wCI-U/s1600-h/kate+invite.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjbC8FV-RfI/AAAAAAAAADA/jIdxG-wCI-U/s320/kate+invite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347675945031321074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-6919050607476054575?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/6919050607476054575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/weekend-with-one.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6919050607476054575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6919050607476054575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/weekend-with-one.html' title='A weekend with one'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjbCTR-GZxI/AAAAAAAAAC4/LE9Cy1pAvVM/s72-c/100_4872.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1455729112569857185</id><published>2009-06-12T21:57:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T22:27:34.878-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And the thunder rolls...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjMclDHfsxI/AAAAAAAAACw/MnqBq69NJnQ/s1600-h/wr-lightening_jpg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjMclDHfsxI/AAAAAAAAACw/MnqBq69NJnQ/s320/wr-lightening_jpg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346648605436392210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit it, I'm a complete baby when it comes to thunderstorms. I start to freak out at the first appearance of storm clouds. I refuse to drive in any type of rain other than a sprinkle. If it's thundering and lightening, forget it. I'll pull into the nearest gas station and wait it out. Of course, that almost backfired on me when the roof of the gas station got ripped off and fell inches away from my car...but I digress. You'd think that after living in Lubbock for 5 years, and in Ft. Worth for 6 years, I'd be used to tornado sirens and such....nope.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been raining here for days. Not sprinkling, not just a summer shower, but torrential rain. Thunder, lightening, tornadoes, you name it, we've got it. I don't like it. Wednesday night, the 80 mph winds knocked down half of the fences in our neighborhood. Scary. You know how tornados supposedly sound like freight trains? I swear I hear a train horn every time it starts to rain. One of the main issues I have with our house is that we have ZERO interior rooms. Damn open floor plan! Even our closets are exterior. If a tornado ever hits, we're toast. Of course, the weather guys just feed my fear since they interrupt all programming to show us how horrible the storms are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and Kate were supposed to leave tonight for San Antonio, but I convinced him to stay just in case a tornado happened to hit. I refuse to be in the house alone during hazardous weather...if Josh isn't home, I head to the neighbor's house. Of course, our neighbors moved earlier this year, and now we don't know the new people who moved in. They might think I was a bit strange if I showed up on their doorstep asking to camp out in their living room until the storm passes. Oh well, it's bound to happen sometime...probably tomorrow since Josh won't be here and rain is in the forecast again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1455729112569857185?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1455729112569857185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-thunder-rolls.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1455729112569857185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1455729112569857185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-thunder-rolls.html' title='And the thunder rolls...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SjMclDHfsxI/AAAAAAAAACw/MnqBq69NJnQ/s72-c/wr-lightening_jpg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-959003843230553059</id><published>2009-06-10T10:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T10:35:47.608-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Contentment</title><content type='html'>I'll admit that I'm not always the most content person in the world. I can always list hundreds of things that would make me more content.&lt;br /&gt;-if my house were bigger&lt;br /&gt;-if my carpets weren't so dirty&lt;br /&gt;-if Josh would help a little more around the house&lt;br /&gt;-if Avery would sleep better&lt;br /&gt;-if we just had a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;little&lt;/span&gt; more money...&lt;br /&gt;and I could go on and on and on....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately though, I've been trying very hard to be content with where I am and with what I have. After much praying about it, I think I'm almost there. I realized that I care way too much about what other people think, and therefore try to have everything perfect just so people won't think I'm a failure. Basically, I was entirely caught up in ME and what I NEED. In a word, selfish. We are so blessed to have everything we have. In a time when so many people are suffering in this economy, we have felt barely a ripple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~Is my house small? Yes, but at least we have a nice home and it's filled with people I love.&lt;br /&gt;~Is my carpet dirty? Heck yes, but the two little girls who are responsible for the grime are such blessings. They're worth the dirty carpet.&lt;br /&gt;~Does Josh still leave his dirty dishes in the sink and his clothes on the floor? Yep, but he also works 10 hours a day so that we can have everything we have and I can stay at home with our precious girls.&lt;br /&gt;~Does Avery still wake up at night? Yes, but I'm learning to cherish that quiet time with my sweet baby who is growing up so fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, there are still times that I feel like, if I could just have (insert random thing here), I would be happier. I'm a work in progress. But, believe me, with God's help, I've come a long way. I can honestly say now that I can think about staying in our house for another few years without having an anxiety attack.  I'm trying to enjoy my children every day instead of worrying about everything that pops into my head. I've been a worrier my whole life, so this is a new way of thinking, a new way of BEING for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, I like it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-959003843230553059?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/959003843230553059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/contentment.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/959003843230553059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/959003843230553059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/06/contentment.html' title='Contentment'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-8795190730140335191</id><published>2009-05-26T15:22:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T15:37:18.422-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where has the month gone?</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it's been 3 weeks since I last posted. We've been crazy-busy this month. Josh's grandpa died a couple of weeks ago, so we headed down to SA for the funeral. Since I had been planning to take Kate down there the following week, we just moved our trip up a week and stayed. Josh came back home since he had to work. Our week in SA was fun...my mom took a couple of days off and we went to the zoo and Sea World. The kids had a blast, and it was a nice break for me too. The days that mom had to work, we got to hang out with my (not so) little brother Jon. Mom came back to Fort Worth with us on Friday, and just left yesterday. Now I'm on my own again and  trying to get back in the swing of things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and while I was gone, my house was invaded by fruit flies, YUCK! I don't know why they showed up, there was no rotten fruit, but they are tough little buggers to get rid of! I'm trying about 5 different ways to kill them right now, hopefully one of them will work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pics from Sea World:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/ShxRxh_kuNI/AAAAAAAAACg/0riE00lPlR0/s1600-h/100_4853.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/ShxRxh_kuNI/AAAAAAAAACg/0riE00lPlR0/s320/100_4853.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340233169535023314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/ShxSQ5pa0lI/AAAAAAAAACo/wWpBlhIA68M/s1600-h/100_4849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/ShxSQ5pa0lI/AAAAAAAAACo/wWpBlhIA68M/s320/100_4849.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340233708460495442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-8795190730140335191?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/8795190730140335191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-has-month-gone.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8795190730140335191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8795190730140335191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-has-month-gone.html' title='Where has the month gone?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/ShxRxh_kuNI/AAAAAAAAACg/0riE00lPlR0/s72-c/100_4853.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-170441025203034744</id><published>2009-05-06T13:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T14:22:39.179-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kate'/><title type='text'>I thought it would never happen....</title><content type='html'>But it's true:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;KATE IS POTTY TRAINED!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even begin to tell you how much we have&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt; strug&lt;/span&gt;gled with this over the past few months. She knew when she needed to go, knew what to do, but just flat out refused. She has serious control issues. It finally got to the point where she didn't want to go in her diaper OR in the potty. Uh, honey, you have to go somewhere! After an unfortunate incident in the McDonald's parking lot, which ended in a pair of soggy pants and a very frustrated mommy, it's like something just clicked in that little head of hers. "Oh, mommy was right, I DO have to go somewhere. Gee, it sucks having wet pants and a mad mommy...hmmm, guess I'll go on the potty now!" And that was that. Okay, maybe not quite that simple, there was still a little bribery to get her to go, but it was basically easy. This was not even a week ago, and now she's a champ. Hasn't had an accident since then.&lt;br /&gt;I honestly thought this day would never come. I was convinced that my child would be the only one in her preschool class who was still wearing diapers. I promised her a few weeks ago that as soon as she started using the potty all the time that I would take her to San Antonio to go see Shamu. When I made the promise, I thought I wouldn't have to follow through with it until much later this summer. Boy did she prove me wrong. We're packing up and heading to SA in a couple of weeks....good thing we already have season passes and a free place to stay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A picture of my big girl:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SgHfUYxW2qI/AAAAAAAAACY/dy36Mk1uuxU/s1600-h/100_4692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SgHfUYxW2qI/AAAAAAAAACY/dy36Mk1uuxU/s320/100_4692.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332788975123225250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-170441025203034744?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/170441025203034744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-thought-it-would-never-happen.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/170441025203034744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/170441025203034744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-thought-it-would-never-happen.html' title='I thought it would never happen....'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SgHfUYxW2qI/AAAAAAAAACY/dy36Mk1uuxU/s72-c/100_4692.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-2279332213949097277</id><published>2009-04-30T22:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:13:05.517-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep is a Beautiful Thing</title><content type='html'>Sorry I've been MIA this week--it's just that too much sleep has left me unable to sit at the computer. I've actually had the energy to get off my duff and play with Kate, clean the house, and all kinds of other things! Yep, that's right: Sleep Boot Camp was a success! After three nights, my sweet little thing started sleeping from 7 pm until 6 am. AMAZING. I now remember what it feels like to be human. It was so hard listening to her cry those first few nights, but the payoff has been totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much more to write about, but it will have to wait until tomorrow...I'm going to bed now, and plan to sleep all night long!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-2279332213949097277?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/2279332213949097277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/sleep-is-beautiful-thing.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/2279332213949097277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/2279332213949097277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/sleep-is-beautiful-thing.html' title='Sleep is a Beautiful Thing'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-6179402219409385280</id><published>2009-04-21T14:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T14:50:20.852-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep Boot Camp, Day 1</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was tough. Avery woke up every.single.time I tried to put her down for a nap. Frustrated doesn't even come close to describing how I felt. We had a birthday party at noon, and by that time, she had only slept for about 30 minutes all day. I had to leave her in the crib crying while I showered and got dressed. Never did go to sleep. At the party, K had a complete meltdown, and I had to practically drag her to the car, kicking and screaming. It wasn't pretty. She proceeded to scream the entire way home, which made Avery think that she should scream too. I put on my  headphones and tried to drown them out with Dave Ramsey. Josh must've known I was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thisclose&lt;/span&gt; to a breakdown because he got home at 5 and ordered me to go out for a while. Have I mentioned that I love him? I headed to the gym and felt much better by the time I got home. That didn't last long...K threw a huge fit 10 minutes after I got back. Spent about an hour in time out because she refused to apologize to Josh for hitting him. Crazy girl. While she was in time out, sleep bootcamp began in Avery's room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put Avery in the crib at 7:50. The minute I laid her down, she started to scream. I kissed her goodnight and left. She proceeded to scream for 25 minutes, and then stopped....that was it. I went in and checked on her, and she was zonked out. Awesome. The first time we let Kate cry it out, she went on and on for almost 2 hours. Avery woke up at 11:30. I fed her and then put her down awake. She cried for 10 minutes. Up again at 2:30. Cried for almost 30 minutes. Up for good at 6:30. I fed her and tried to get her to go back down, but she just wanted to play. That was really too early for her to get up b/c she was ready to go back to bed by 7:30. Overall, it wasn't a bad night. Believe it or not, that's better than most of our nights are. Naps have been much better today too--I haven't had to hold her at all! Let's hope night 2 goes even better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-6179402219409385280?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/6179402219409385280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/sleep-boot-camp-day-1.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6179402219409385280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/6179402219409385280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/sleep-boot-camp-day-1.html' title='Sleep Boot Camp, Day 1'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-3957576694699628034</id><published>2009-04-17T09:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T09:04:25.417-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Avery....</title><content type='html'>Dear Avery,&lt;br /&gt;I would love it if I had no responsibilities in this world other than to hold you while you sleep. This is not the case. Your sister needs my attention. I would like to get dressed sometime today. We have errands to run. I have no problems rocking you to sleep, but please....PLEASE do not wake up the second I lay you down. A 5-minute snooze in my arms does not constitute a nap! Thank you for considering my point of view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-3957576694699628034?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/3957576694699628034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-avery.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3957576694699628034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3957576694699628034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/dear-avery.html' title='Dear Avery....'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1287405370932768573</id><published>2009-04-14T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:29:25.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There's a monster in my house...</title><content type='html'>There's a monster that lives here. Not under the bed. No, this monster has some serious nerves. She camps out on top of the bed. My bed. She's not the monster of little kids' nightmares either. No fur, no sharp teeth...no teeth at all, now that I think about it. Most people wouldn't even know she's a monster....she's incognito....a monster disguised as a baby!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, you got me, I'm speaking of my sweet baby Avery. When I say sweet, I mean during the day. The nights are a whole different story. Apparently, she doesn't need sleep like the rest of us do. She's had her share by about 2 a.m. After that, it's play time. Unless, of course, she gets to go to mommy and daddy's bed. Then, she'll conk out until morning. Now this hasn't always been the case. Avery was a stellar sleeper until about 4 months old. Then all of a sudden, she decided that sleeping is for the birds. I'm fairly certain that her older sister had a talk with her and let her know that&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; she&lt;/span&gt; didn't sleep through the night until 13 months, and that she expects no less out of Avery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I expect different from Avery. And unfortunately for her, I'm not as sensitive to her crying as I was to Kate's when she was a baby. I know that a night or two of crying will equal much more sleep for everyone. So, starting Monday....&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;SLEEP BOOT CAMP&lt;/span&gt; at our house! I'm at the end of my rope, sleep-wise, and it's not fair to any one that mommy is always grumpy. I look forward to the day when I can lay down in bed, and KNOW that I won't be getting up again until the sun is up. Then maybe we can discuss the idea of another baby.....who will be a GREAT sleeper, I'm sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My monster:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SeVGObHNmuI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0Zlj7PG4LKA/s1600-h/tutu+cute.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SeVGObHNmuI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0Zlj7PG4LKA/s320/tutu+cute.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324739348045601506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1287405370932768573?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1287405370932768573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/theres-monster-in-my-house.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1287405370932768573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1287405370932768573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/theres-monster-in-my-house.html' title='There&apos;s a monster in my house...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SeVGObHNmuI/AAAAAAAAACQ/0Zlj7PG4LKA/s72-c/tutu+cute.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-1294656303441949174</id><published>2009-04-13T15:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T15:19:04.592-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The nothing box</title><content type='html'>It's a real thing, the "nothing box". I don't have one, but Josh does. It's that place that men go when they get that blank stare on their faces. The one that they escape to when you start to tell them things that they need to do around the house. Or anytime there's sporting event on TV. Or there's a toddler running around saying, "I have poop!".  I despise the nothing box. At the same time, I'm insanely jealous of it. I wish I had one. What would it feel like to sit on the couch and watch tv without thinking about the messy kitchen, the crying baby, the dinner that needs to be cooked, the bills that need to be paid..... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to a marriage conference in January called "Laugh your way to a better marriage". The presenter was a man named Mark Gungor, and he is hilarious. He's the one who brought the nothing box to my attention. All this time, I thought that Josh was ignoring me on purpose, but really he was lost inside his nothing box. Hmmm....interesting. It doesn't make it any less irritating when I have to tell him things 4 times before he hears me, but it is nice to know that most men have this irritating habit. Now, before I tell him something important, I make it a point to ask him to kindly exit his nothing box before I start talking. It has helped our communication immensely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a couple of occasions, I've tried to pretend that I have a nothing box. The problem is that my box doesn't work right. It doesn't block out sounds, sights, or guilt. My box has transparent sides, no sound barrier, and the guilt comes in with me. Maybe one day, when the kids are in school and I have enough money for a maid and a cook, THEN I will have a working nothing box. Until then I guess I'll concentrate on inventing a lock to keep Josh out of his!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-1294656303441949174?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/1294656303441949174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/nothing-box.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1294656303441949174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/1294656303441949174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/04/nothing-box.html' title='The nothing box'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7935041085767361191</id><published>2009-03-30T14:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T14:37:52.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Everyone has one: that one friend that seems to have it all pulled together. Their kids' clothes never have stains, the girls always have perfectly brushed hair WITH a bow that matches the outfit, the mom has no leftover baby fat, etc. You know what I mean. I know a girl like that, and I can't help but wonder how she manages to be so perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you walk into my house unannounced, you will find the floor littered with toys (and crumbs, and who knows what else...), dirty dishes in the sink, and a pile of laundry in the laundry room. You will see a baby who is probably still in her pajamas, and a toddler with a dirty face and bed-head. If you're lucky, I will have morphed into "daytime mommy", but that's not always a guarantee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if you do announce your coming, you won't walk into a spotless house with perfectly coiffed children. The toys will probably be picked up, but they will still be visible. The dishes will be done, but there will still be that ever-present pile of mail on the counter. The children will be dressed, but toddler will probably have messed her hair up 5 minutes after it was brushed. I'm okay with all of this. It's just how life is when you live in a small house with 2 small kids and one large dog. I'm okay with it, that is, until I see that someone else manages to do it better.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously though, how do you keep a house spotless when you have kids? At first I thought that she must just spend all her time cleaning, but now that I know her better, I know that's not true. She's a great mom. Very involved with her kids and interacts with them all the time. I don't know, I guess she's just got a clean/organization gene that I missed out on. When I look at her perfectly-groomed life, I get irritated with myself that I can't be that way. Then I get irritated with myself for being irritated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After writing all of this, I feel like I need to get off the computer and go vacuum those crumbs up off the floor and maybe put a dent in the laundry that is overflowing into the kitchen.....it still won't be a perfect house, but it'll be a start!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone has any great organization tips they'd like to share with this under-organized mom, please feel free!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7935041085767361191?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7935041085767361191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/everyone-has-one-that-one-friend-that.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7935041085767361191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7935041085767361191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/everyone-has-one-that-one-friend-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-8052449350790879469</id><published>2009-03-23T16:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T16:31:16.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick, sick, sick</title><content type='html'>Sick kids are no fun. It started on Thursday with just a runny nose. Then a cough. Then came the fevers and the whining. Ugh. Of course, along with congestion comes sleepless nights. Poor babies. I feel like they've been sick SO much this winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since Avery was pulling at her ear yesterday, I thought I should take her to the dr. to rule out an ear infection. I decided to get Kate checked out too since she was still miserable. Bad idea. The whole way to the office, K was whining, "mommy, I don't want the dr. to check me out." I drove on, just praying that she would behave when we got there. No such luck. They call us back to the room, and K has a complete meltdown. Picture me: I'm carrying the giant diaper bag (note to self--get a smaller one!), my purse, and my wiggly 18-lb baby in one arm, and literally DRAGGING Kate with the other. Once we made it into the room, the nurse asked K to step on the scale. More screaming ensued. I handed Avery over to the nurse (Avery immediately started screaming), and tried to convince K to step on the scale. I even tried bribing her with McDonald's for lunch. No dice. Then we did temperature, and blood ox levels with both kids screaming the entire time. I seriously didn't know whether to laugh or cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for $50 and much frustration, we were told that they just had terrible colds and there was nothing they could do for us. Ugh. I just get so frustrated with Kate. She's usually such a good girl, but she is SO stubborn. If she doesn't want to do something, she's just not going to do it. It's all good now though, they're both sleeping, and I'm not feeling like running away from home anymore. Let's just pray that they get better soon because I can't handle being trapped in the house with these little bitty whiners for much longer!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-8052449350790879469?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/8052449350790879469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/sick-sick-sick.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8052449350790879469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8052449350790879469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/sick-sick-sick.html' title='Sick, sick, sick'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-5987738766678449725</id><published>2009-03-16T16:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T16:51:44.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm baaaaack!</title><content type='html'>My blog has been so lonely the past couple of weeks! I have a good reason--I promise! My mom was in town all last week, so I had entertainment and childcare, yay! Seriously, my life is great now, but would be even better if mom lived here. Kate loves her so much, and Avery is definitely on the same path of adoration as her big sister. Let's see...the week in review:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday: We went to the zoo. Fun, fun, fun. The weather was perfect, and there were no crowds since Ft. Worth's spring break isn't  until this week. I don't think I've mentioned this yet, but we're working on potty training with K, so she was in a pull-up. Those things suck. One pee, and they leak. Anyway, that happened at the zoo, so for the last part of our trip, I had the dirty kid walking around with only a shirt and a diaper on. I used to frown upon those kinds of parents--"geez, can't you even put some pants on that child--think ahead, pack the diaper bag!" Yeah, having a kid has taught me NEVER to judge others based on the appearance of they're children! For the record though, I did pack extra pants, they were just in the car, not the diaper bag!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday: We felt the need to shop (we always do when mom's in town!) We hit a few stores to get some spring/summer clothes for the kiddos. Let me tell ya, there are way cuter clothes out there for babies than for toddlers! I honestly don't know where the rest of Tuesday went. I guess we just putzed around until bedtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday: The weather was terrible, so we couldn't do any of the fun outdoor things that we had planned. So what did we do? Well, we shopped some more, of course! We needed to find the girls some things to wear for picture day on Friday. We weren't too successful, but we had fun anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday: Avery had her 6 month checkup in the morning. The office was painfully slow, so we got out of there later than I had hoped. Oh well, it's par for the course. After that, I went home to pick up mom and Kate and we headed to the children's museum. The parking lot was pretty empty, so I was hopeful that we'd have the place to ourselves. Imagine my suprise when we walked in and were greeted by hundreds of elementary school kids! We were infomed that the kids would be leaving shortly, so we decided to stay. Right before we payed though, the manager came in and told us that although these kids were leaving, he was expecting a busload of 180 3-year-olds within 30 minutes. That's where I draw the line. It should be illegal for 180 3-year-olds to EVER be in the same place. We high-tailed it back to the car and decided to take K to Chuck-E-Cheese instead. I hate that place on a normal day, but it was even worse that day b/c there was a field trip of 5th graders there. Ugh. I wish I had gotten to go on field trips to CEC when I was in school. Instead, we went to museums and the Alamo. Guess times are changing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday: Got the kids pictures taken (a miserable experience for everyone involved). Got ZERO pics of K b/c she refused to look at the camera. Got a couple cute ones of Avery, but nothing to get excited about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday: Hung out with friends and just chilled after our busy week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, that's our week in a nutshell. We all get a bit sleep-deprived when mom's here b/c we feel like we have to pack everything in before she leaves. Today, we're catching up on sleep. Both girls slept until 8:30 this morning (yay!) They're napping now, and have been for about 2.5 hours. I'm about to have to go wake miss K up, or she'll never go to bed tonight!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-5987738766678449725?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/5987738766678449725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-baaaaack.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5987738766678449725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/5987738766678449725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-baaaaack.html' title='I&apos;m baaaaack!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-8633358478281376642</id><published>2009-03-04T14:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T14:37:28.133-06:00</updated><title type='text'>6 months old already!</title><content type='html'>I cannot BELIEVE that my sweet baby is already half a year old! Where in the world has the last 6 months gone? It really doesn't feel like that long ago that I was screaming at Josh to drive faster as we headed to the hospital. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I swore to myself that I would savor Avery's babyhood more than I did Kate's, but I'm not sure that I really have. With Kate, I was so concerned with doing everything right that I forgot to just enjoy her. With Avery, I'm so busy dealing with Kate, that I don't have as much time to just watch her sleep, hold her, and cuddle her. I guess we make up for that in the wee hours of the morning when she wakes up and wants nothing more than to be held. In honor of Avery's half-year mark, here is a glimpse of what she's doing these days:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Sits on her own and can get herself into a crawling position, but doesn't quite know what to do from there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Will eat anything that you put in front of her, but her favorites are squash sweet potatoes, and baby mum mum's. Definitely not a fan of applesauce, but will eat it because, well, it is food afterall! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Shows a distinct preference for mommy. If she's tired, will only tolerate mommy, not even daddy will do. Screams like a crazy woman if she's left with someone she doesn't know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Loves, loves, loves Kate. When no one else can make her smile, Kate always can. I can't wait to watch the two of them grow up together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Still a pretty pitiful sleeper. Most nights, she's up 2x, but about once a week, we have nights that she's up 4 or 5 times. Those nights, she ends up in momma's bed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Just a all-around happy baby. Very easy-going and adaptable. She really is a joy, and I can't wait to watch her grow and see what she becomes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309434053778637074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sa7mJC3WgRI/AAAAAAAAABU/BLC61mKAkSs/s320/100_4463.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-8633358478281376642?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/8633358478281376642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/6-months-old-already.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8633358478281376642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/8633358478281376642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/03/6-months-old-already.html' title='6 months old already!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/Sa7mJC3WgRI/AAAAAAAAABU/BLC61mKAkSs/s72-c/100_4463.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7199368255780076776</id><published>2009-02-26T16:16:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T16:18:26.959-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lake House</title><content type='html'>I just finished watching this movie, and it is honestly the most confusing movie I've ever seen.  I'm still not sure what happened. Of course, that might be because it's taken me three days to watch the whole thing or that I'm living on 4 hours sleep today....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7199368255780076776?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7199368255780076776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/lake-house.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7199368255780076776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7199368255780076776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/lake-house.html' title='The Lake House'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7854091678392641457</id><published>2009-02-25T15:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T15:44:09.795-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Notes to the things I love...</title><content type='html'>They say you can tell a lot about a person by the things they love. In short, I'm a sleepy mommy who loves quiet babies, clean bathrooms and flip flops. These are just a few shoutouts to my favorite things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My pillow&lt;/strong&gt;: I love you, dear pillow. We don't get to spend nearly enough quality time together, but just know that one day, we will have a whole uninterrupted night. I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Coffee&lt;/strong&gt;: After a long, sleepless night, I can always count you to be there for me. Just the smell of those beans when I open the bag is enough to make my eyes open a little wider. Thank you for giving me hope that I will survive the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pacifiers&lt;/strong&gt;: You can quiet Avery immediately, which makes you the one thing I can't leave the hose without. Pink, green, purple, white, I love you all and am already dreading the day we have to evict you from our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My hotsling&lt;/strong&gt;: I absolutely couldn't go anywhere with both of my children without my beloved sling. You are Avery's favorite place to ride, and my favorite place to carry her. I would carry her in the sling forever if my back could handle it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kaboom bathroom cleaner&lt;/strong&gt;: Is it sad that one of my favorite things is a bathroom cleaner? I tried every cleaner in the store, and you are the only one that can keep my glass shower doors clean. Small things that make me happy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DVR:&lt;/strong&gt; I would never, ever get to watch my shows without your help. You are truly one of the best inventions EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The YMCA&lt;/strong&gt;: Not only do you provide a place for me to get rid of this post-baby fat, but you also give me an excuse to get away from my children for a few hours a week. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Flip flops&lt;/strong&gt;: Easy, cute, and well, did I mention easy? I've now declared it officially flip flop season since it's 90 degrees outside today. I look forward to a long and glorious spring and summer (and probably fall) with you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7854091678392641457?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7854091678392641457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-i-love.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7854091678392641457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7854091678392641457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-i-love.html' title='Notes to the things I love...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7412857832510498707</id><published>2009-02-24T15:39:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T15:53:25.674-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>This is Kate's current favorite question. It drives me insane some days, but it also makes me really stop and think about why we do things. I decided to write down the Why questions I was asked on Thursday...I only made it through about noon before I got tired of toting my pen and paper around with me, but here's the morning's questions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Why do you like to drink coffee?&lt;br /&gt;-Why did my cereal spill on the table?&lt;br /&gt;-Mommy, why does Cookie Monster have eyes?&lt;br /&gt;-Mommy, why does Brooke (her friend) love me?&lt;br /&gt;-Why do big trucks drive on that road right there?&lt;br /&gt;-Mommy, why is my cup empty? (this was right after she dropped the entire slushie on the floor of the car!)&lt;br /&gt;-Why are my tennis shoes hard to get on?&lt;br /&gt;-Why did my old pink shoes get too small?&lt;br /&gt;-Why is that kid over there crying?&lt;br /&gt;-Why is the grass brown?&lt;br /&gt;-Why are our clothes dirty?&lt;br /&gt;-Why does Bailey dig holes in the back yard?&lt;br /&gt;-Why does Bailey get mud all over the floor?&lt;br /&gt;-Why isn't that little girl listening to her mommy? (We were at the park--Kate's a people-watcher!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7412857832510498707?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7412857832510498707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/why.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7412857832510498707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7412857832510498707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-3518584372804566577</id><published>2009-02-23T14:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T14:32:41.960-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken Piccata Recipe</title><content type='html'>Ask anyone who knows me, and they'll tell you that I'm not exactly a gourmet chef. I cook because I have to, not because I like to. I just don't have the time to spend an hour in the kitchen at my kid's whiniest time of day. Sadly, I do love to eat good food. My laziness wins out over my taste buds most of the time, but last week I found a recipe that is delicious AND easy. Perfect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#990000;"&gt;Chicken Piccata&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ingredients&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;4 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves, about 6 ounces each&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup all-purpose flour&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt&lt;br /&gt;1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper&lt;br /&gt;3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 &lt;a class="cimotif" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; CURSOR: pointer; COLOR: green; BORDER-BOTTOM: green 2px dotted; TEXT-DECORATION: none"&gt;cups&lt;/a&gt; chicken stock, preferably homemade&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons &lt;a class="cimotif" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; CURSOR: pointer; COLOR: green; BORDER-BOTTOM: green 2px dotted; TEXT-DECORATION: none"&gt;fresh&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="cimotif" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; CURSOR: pointer; COLOR: green; BORDER-BOTTOM: green 2px dotted; TEXT-DECORATION: none"&gt;lemon&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a class="cimotif" style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; CURSOR: pointer; COLOR: green; BORDER-BOTTOM: green 2px dotted; TEXT-DECORATION: none"&gt;juice&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces&lt;br /&gt;1 tablespoon drained bottled capers, rinsed and chopped&lt;br /&gt;Additional kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper&lt;br /&gt;Thin slices lemon and chopped fresh parsley leaves, for garnish&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Directions&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;1. Sprinkle a small amount of water on a large plastic sheet of plastic wrap. Place 2 of the breast halves on top of the plastic and sprinkle again with water. Cover with another sheet of plastic wrap and pound with a rolling pin or meat pounder until about 1/4-inch thick. Repeat with the remaining 2 breast halves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Mix the flour with the salt and pepper in a shallow pie plate. Heat half of the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until almost smoking. Working in 2 batches, place the chicken in the flour mixture and turn to coat on all sides. Shake off the excess flour and add to the skillet. Cook until lightly browned and cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate or platter and cover loosely with foil. Repeat with the remaining oil and chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Pour off the fat from the skillet and return the skillet to the heat. Add the chicken stock and lemon juice. Increase the heat to high and bring to a boil, stirring to pick up and browned bits in the bottom of the pan. Simmer for 3 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Return the chicken to the skillet and simmer, turning often, until warmed through and the sauce is thickened, about 2 minutes. Add the butter and the capers. Season with salt and pepper and heat just until the butter has melted. Serve on warmed plates with a spoonful of the skillet sauce, topped with lemon slices and parsley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;YUMMY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-3518584372804566577?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/3518584372804566577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/chicken-piccata-recipe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3518584372804566577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3518584372804566577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/chicken-piccata-recipe.html' title='Chicken Piccata Recipe'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-3195968807973432521</id><published>2009-02-19T16:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T17:09:08.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>ZZZ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZ3hZyaHpBI/AAAAAAAAAAk/RB39xujrp3A/s1600-h/100_4467.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304643769256616978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZ3hZyaHpBI/AAAAAAAAAAk/RB39xujrp3A/s320/100_4467.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know it's been a rough night when I reach for this coffee cup in the morning. It's 2 times the size of a normal mug, and this morning I drank 2 of them before 10 a.m. Yes, it was that bad. I'm used to Avery giving me a hard time at night--she's a baby, my babies don't sleep, I've learned to live with that. Last night, though, Kate jumped in on the action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had just snuggled into bed and closed my eyes when I heard Kate screaming on the monitor. Of course she was calling for mommy, so Josh pushed me out of bed to deal with her. It took me about 20 minutes to get her settled, and I had just closed her door when Avery started fussing. Got her down in about 10 minutes and snuggled up in bed again. About an hour later, I wake up because I think I hear Kate screaming. The monitor is quiet though, so I close my eyes again. Wait a minute, that really is Kate, why isn't the monitor working? I realize in my sleeply stupor, I must've turned it off when she started yelling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time, I make Josh go to her. He hasn't even been gone for 2 minutes when Avery starts in again. I stumble to her room, nearly killing myself on the computer cord that is stretched across the hallway, curse at our lack of a computer desk, and attempt to put her back to sleep. Not happening. I bring her to bed with me, where she proceeds to grunt and whimper all.night.long. I swear, the child never got into a deep sleep. Somewhere along the way, Josh came back in, saw Avery on the bed, and retreated to the couch. Smart, lucky man! Oh well, at least Bailey (the dog) got a good night's rest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing the kid is cute, otherwise, I'd have sold her to the gypsies by now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304647979769487570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZ3lO3ynYNI/AAAAAAAAABE/rtYwMm3XOTw/s320/100_4452.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-3195968807973432521?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/3195968807973432521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/zzz.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3195968807973432521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/3195968807973432521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/zzz.html' title='ZZZ...'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZ3hZyaHpBI/AAAAAAAAAAk/RB39xujrp3A/s72-c/100_4467.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-2738110661162417068</id><published>2009-02-17T16:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T16:28:48.278-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A World Without Computers</title><content type='html'>Out of the blue last weekend, my trusty old laptop took it's last breath. Okay, so it wasn't really out of the blue--the screen had been this scary orange color for a month, but I was choosing to ignore it. Anyway, the screen finally just went black and left me without a computer. After doing a little research, it seems that this is a common problem with that particular model, and the replacement part would cost $250. Well, the computer is 5 years old, so we decided to just buy a new one. We didn't have time to do that until yesterday, so I spent more than a week without a computer. Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just list the things that I was unable to do because of the lack of computer and the Internet:&lt;br /&gt;-access my recipe box on allrecipes.com (and therefore had a great excuse to not cook!)&lt;br /&gt;-order the pictures from Snapfish that I had been meaning to get for weeks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Research what computer we should buy-Mapquest how to get to our playdate yesterday&lt;br /&gt;-Access my address book so I could mail a thank-you note&lt;br /&gt;-pay bills&lt;br /&gt;-Update the checking account&lt;br /&gt;-Fill out new patient forms for the dentist&lt;br /&gt;-Keep up with friends via email and facebook (most important of all the things I missed!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I could go on, but you get the idea. The bottom line is that I can't believe how much we rely on the Internet these days, it's crazy to think that when I started college, E-mail was still a novelty, and most people didn't have Internet access in their homes.I am happy that I have a brand new computer (or pooter, as Kate calls it) and can now get on with my regularly-scheduled life! I still haven't figured out how to get my router hooked up to this computer, so I'm sitting on the floor of my bedroom with the laptop plugged into the modem (we don't have a computer desk due to our lack of space). Oh well, baby steps. Maybe I can get Jon (my brother) up here soon to give me some technological assistance!So, let's just have a moment of silence for the Dell, and hope that the new HP has a longer, happier life than it's predessesor!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-2738110661162417068?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/2738110661162417068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/world-without-computers-out-of-blue.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/2738110661162417068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/2738110661162417068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/world-without-computers-out-of-blue.html' title='A World Without Computers'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5818900847644019554.post-7031151175392261027</id><published>2009-02-17T16:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T16:29:20.818-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Post!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, so I'm new to this whole blogging thing, but I thought I'd give it a shot since we have so much going on these days. Hopefully this will be a way for all our family and friends who live far away to keep up with us and the girls.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;First off, a disclaimer--I have a long and proud history of starting things that never get finished. Let's see, there are the three scrapbooks in the closet, the bins I bought in order to organize my closets that still sit empty in the garage, the Pilates DVD I bought months ago that still has the cellophane wrapper on it....you get the idea. This time though, I have a motivation--to let my loved ones get to know my girls and give them a glimpse of the little things that make them special.Another disclaimer--I am sleep-deprived (as told by the title of this blog), therefore, I take no responsibility for rambling sentences, misspelled words, or anything that makes no sense. Just go with it and realize that one day I will sleep again and then maybe my posts will be a little more clear than mud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To begin, I think I'll post some pictures of the girls (I'd post pics of Josh and me, but we all know that people are really not interested in us, they're interested in the cuteness of the girls!):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kate enjoying one of her favorite activities:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303894355306684978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZs30J5BIjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/01mvy_G15DI/s320/100_4239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Avery loving the Bumbo:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303895812735975202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZs5I_PPPyI/AAAAAAAAAAc/diWFeqIj0Ss/s320/100_4181.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5818900847644019554-7031151175392261027?l=sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/feeds/7031151175392261027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-first-post-okay-so-im-new-to-this.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7031151175392261027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5818900847644019554/posts/default/7031151175392261027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleeplessinfortworth.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-first-post-okay-so-im-new-to-this.html' title='My First Post!'/><author><name>Brooke</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13790289880069652685</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rfQ3fZBX5a0/SZs30J5BIjI/AAAAAAAAAAM/01mvy_G15DI/s72-c/100_4239.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
