tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83190546624308336702024-03-05T04:36:09.911-06:00The Kelly FamilyThe Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.comBlogger589125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-49456942009037306912013-04-15T08:50:00.000-05:002013-04-15T08:50:00.277-05:00Happy 3rd Birthday Lauren!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Three years ago I was laying in a hospital bed, excited to know that I was going to be meeting my daughter soon. I had just been checked by the nurse and was ready to get the show on the road!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Twenty three minutes later I was holding her, amazed at the<a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-now-were-four.html"> entire experience</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I knew she was a special little girl from the moment I saw her, but nothing could have prepared me for the smart, friendly, loving, funny, beautiful girl she has become. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lauren, we are so very blessed to call you ours. We love you so very much!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Happy Birthday!</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-36150457093606949212013-02-04T13:07:00.000-06:002013-02-04T13:07:24.197-06:00Speak Up (Bullies Suck)There are so many things that scare me about being a parent. My children getting sick, drugs, alcohol, peer pressure, letting them drive, <i>the teenage years</i>...the list goes on and on.<br />
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Bullying is at the top of that list.<br />
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Just this morning a 9th grader in Coweta, less than 45 minutes from our house, <a href="http://www.fox23.com/news/local/story/Student-committed-suicide-at-Coweta-school/-jXVNgYkP0GvgEbGzn5Lhg.cspx">committed suicide in the school bathroom</a>. It has not been reported that bullying was a factor (that I know of), but that poor child obviously had some serious mental issues that could have been affected by how other students were treating him or her. No, my kids are not being bullied, but it hits close to home because I definitely was.<br />
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My 6th grade year was the worst. It came from all sides, during and after school, from my classmates to my Girl Scout troop. I was constantly teased about an assortment of things; my hair, my clothes, my teeth, my lips, my weight, my lack of an ass (oh if they could see me now!)...many things that I had very little control over. I tried to be as quiet as possible, to disappear into the background, to not ruffle any feathers. I had no clue who I was, who I wanted to be, or why all of the things I was teased for were even an issue.<br />
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I never got to the point of harming myself, but I definitely suffered quietly when I didn't need to. My mom had no idea that anyone was being mean to me, or the extent of just how mean those kids were. Anyone that knows my mom knows she would have gone full on mama bear on some people if she had any clue. I thought complaining would increase the teasing. What's worse, I thought standing up for myself would get me in trouble. It seemed as though the ones that were taunting me would find a way to make me look like the bad guy.<br />
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I was called names. Other kids would laugh and make mean comments when I walked past. Even girls that I considered my friends went out of their way to make me feel awful. For example, I spent the night at one girl's house and she was so mean to me that I spent half the time crying. Why didn't I just call my mom and go home? Because I thought staying was the better choice. I thought staying would change her mind and make her like me. Even when a BB gun was pointed at me, I stayed.<br />
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The worst of it came from 3 girls in my 6th grade class. I'm not sure when or why it started, I was probably just an easy target, but it was constant and it was hurtful. I was barked at and called a "dog". Making me cry seemed to be their main goal, while making it through the day without having a complete breakdown was mine.<br />
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There is one day in particular that stood out the most. It was a day when we had a substitute teacher and for some reason we had a break in the middle of the day when we had downtime and could do whatever we wanted. I decided to read a book, something quiet that wouldn't bring any attention to myself. I started noticing paper wads around my desk but thought little of it. I asked to go to the bathroom and while I was in the hall someone mentioned my "dandruff".<br />
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(Side note: my hair is ridiculously curly and at the time I tried to tame it with a ton of mousse and hairspray. This left my hair crunchy and often resulted in tiny flakes of gunk. Oh to have known then what I know now!)<br />
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I angrily replied that it was simply hairspray and was met with laughter and told to check my hair. I had several paper wads stuck all over my head. In the bathroom I shook out as many as I could, trying unsuccessfully to keep from bawling. I thought for a moment about not going back to class. I could walk home, it was maybe a mile, or just go to the principal's office. Instead, I walked back into class with my head down. That was until the substitute piped up and said, "You have one more left on the top." Oh yes...she knew what was going on, watched the whole thing, and <i>let it happen</i>.<br />
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Yes, I went on to lead a perfectly normal life. I went to college, married an awesome guy, gave birth to some amazing children. I understand that kids are often mean and that I'm not the only one that was ever bullied. I'm friendly and outgoing, although often too loud, and a decently happy person most of the time.<br />
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That doesn't make their behavior okay.<br />
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Do I hate the people the bullied me? Absolutely not! I would have happily joined them in making some other kid's life hell if they had let me. I know that there were times I was extremely mean to people, even a few that were my friends. (I'm still so sorry Kim!) Adolescence is a difficult time for everyone and I'm pretty sure we were all just doing our best to survive it.<br />
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Every once in awhile someone will bring the paper wad/dandruff day up to me, usually in a "haha we were crazy kids" kind of way. I have even had someone comment about how funny I should find it now.<br />
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I have forgiven the people who were mean to me, but I sure as hell will never find it funny.<br />
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Would those people be okay with someone doing that to their child? I know I wouldn't. Would they tell their kids to suck it up and suffer because someday they would find the whole thing funny? I seriously doubt it.<br />
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Bullying is not funny. It's not something that should be acceptable or brushed off because "all kids do it". Teachers and substitutes should not turn a blind eye and allow students to be act that way. (I know a great majority of teachers and substitutes would never let that happen.) I wish I would have known that I didn't have to suffer. I wish I would have had the courage to tell someone what was going on, especially my mom. I know I'm lucky that I never started to hurt myself or others. Everything could have gone very differently.<br />
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I know I can't protect my kids from everything. I know that they will be bullied, or be a bully, at some point in their lives. I just hope that I can find a way to let them know that it is not okay and that I'm here to help. I hope they will be strong enough to stand against bullying, or to admit they made a mistake and do everything they can to make it right.<br />
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And to any kids out there that are being bullied: Yes, it gets better, but that doesn't mean you have to take it. Tell your parents or a teacher, go to the principal or the guidance counselor, because your life does have value, even if it's hard to see it now. Hurting yourself, or others, will not fix anything. Sitting back and taking it will not make it go away and the bullies will not respect you for keeping your mouth shut.<br />
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You are special.<br />
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You are loved.<br />
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You are worth it.The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-12931556600212192952013-01-27T11:17:00.001-06:002013-01-27T11:18:34.879-06:00Lauren Can Spell Her Name!Yes, I'm totally bragging on my 2 year old. Yes, I'm super proud. Yes, I'm also annoying. :) Sorry!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background-color: transparent; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-43969591003822223062013-01-24T14:20:00.000-06:002013-01-24T14:20:17.107-06:00Eight is Great!Our very first anniversary (of dating) you completely forgot. I did my best not to be sad until you accidentally ran over a curb and announced that you wished you had never even gotten out of bed that morning.<br />
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Yesterday we both had our "ah ha!" moments of remembering that today was our wedding anniversary. We laughed about that first disastrous day, high-fived, and finished making dinner.<br />
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This morning you fixed us all pancakes and printed a giant sign for me at work. I think it's been my favorite anniversary so far. :)<br />
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We've come a long way! And we have so far to go. I love you!<br />
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Love, Amanda<br />
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<br />The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-40432221590839784452012-11-11T15:30:00.000-06:002012-11-11T15:30:21.524-06:00Election Day 2012<i>(This won't be a political post at all, just how the day went for me.)</i><br />
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It's been several years since I've actually voted in person for any type of election. I've had to use an absentee ballot since 2000 so it was slightly strange to drive up to my polling place (at Brenden's school, which made it rather simple, except for parking) and wait in line to cast my vote. I also had to drag poor Lauren along with me and I admit I was not sure how well she would tolerate standing in line, not driving everyone crazy and staying relatively quiet.<br />
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My day was full of surprises!<br />
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Parking really was insane, which just meant that a lot of people were out voting so complaining about that seems silly. We eventually found a spot, trekked back to the correct building, and started the 45 minute wait. Lauren happily stood next to me, singing some of her favorite songs, chatting with two ladies in front of us, and greeting anyone that made eye contact with her. After about 20 minutes she told me she had to use the bathroom and when I asked her to wait she said, "Okay." I was pretty sure she really didn't need to go and was just bored in line so I wasn't really worried about her.<br />
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We finally made it to the front of the line, picked up my ballot and the all important "I Voted" sticker, and headed to a voting booth. Lauren found a little boy next to us and entertained him by counting her fingers and pointing out where her eyes and forehead were located. His dad started laughing and could barely concentrate. Oops! She was so happy and well behaved that I was completely caught off guard when she started crying after I finished. She wanted to vote, too and was not convinced when I explained she had to be 18. Thankfully, she got over it pretty quickly.<br />
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On the way out the door she spotted a bathroom and started running. I had completely forgotten she had mentioned it! My big girl was dry! After months of arguing, tantrums, accidents, pleading, bribing, and banging my head against the wall, this was a HUGE achievement You better believe that girl got lots of M&Ms when we got home!<br />
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That afternoon I picked Brenden up and was happy to see that there was still a line to vote. Brenden asked what was happening and when I started to explain he got upset. "I wanna vote!!!! Wahhhh!!!" Of course, Lauren chimed in. "I wanna vote TOO! WAHH!!" I love that they are so passionate about wanting to be included, but my goodness my ears almost started bleeding! They eventually calmed down when I offered to make them their own special ballots at home.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Romney/Obama<br />Pizza/Spaghetti<br />Power Rangers/Ninjago<br />Summer/Winter</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">They voted!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">The votes were split between Romney/Obama and Power Rangers/Ninjago, but pizza and summer won the night! I hope they are always this excited about the privilege of voting...and those simple stickers. :)</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-13180732158801789882012-10-11T13:06:00.000-05:002012-10-11T13:06:01.534-05:00Tulsa State Fair 2012This year we were lucky enough to have a chance to go to the fair twice. The first time Connie, my mom and I took the kids and the second time Connie, Mike, Tim and I took the kids. To say we had a good time would be a <b>huge </b>understatement.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWA4ir0hZIA4VtssME08YS549o2VMys9poPK3ET9kTwAu5-x6mrsmd2Y86wF5KAmWPssy86h2-rKkj72sOIztTTPq-z3NYQRmeI4AKcuSOx1-jOnkJw5JgVQGaNi1QuiidjBZQB2I9OU/s1600/P1180859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWA4ir0hZIA4VtssME08YS549o2VMys9poPK3ET9kTwAu5-x6mrsmd2Y86wF5KAmWPssy86h2-rKkj72sOIztTTPq-z3NYQRmeI4AKcuSOx1-jOnkJw5JgVQGaNi1QuiidjBZQB2I9OU/s320/P1180859.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">She looks unhappy. I promise, she wasn't. :)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />(Just a random hint: Use Paid Parking. It's annoying to have to pay to get good parking, but it's worth it!)<br />
<br />
I knew the kids would be excited about the rides so we had to do those first. We had to split up for a bit since Brenden was tall enough to go on some of the bigger rides but it worked out well with 2 grandmas helping. We finally convinced them to eat and somehow we found the cheapest corn dogs and snagged a table. We struck up a conversation with the lady sitting at the table and it turned out she was working one of the booths at the fair...a toy booth. So <i>of course </i>we had to go see her and let the kids pick out 2 of the loudest, brightest laser guns. They went zombie and vampire hunting when we got home. I need to work on my zombie/vampire drawing skills!<br />
<br />
Great memories from this trip:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Brenden convinced his grandma Ginger to ride the big roller coaster with him. (His first big roller coaster!) He had a BLAST! My mom told his he wasn't allowed to cry or get sick because that would make her cry or get sick, so he ran off yelling, "I didn't cry! I didn't get sick! LETS DO IT AGAIN!"</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>Lauren went on her own, smaller version, of a big roller coaster with grandma Connie. She also had a fantastic time and wanted to go again. I'm raising dare devils!</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlAmztE1Vhl73Dx4wj8Vq_T27li6GijH6HufRQmenQZW0yowj_tsAUZ80qul9uobs6XLEb8FaE_UdAeVXe61wOoB4is8HcVSLDaDjOBSGhBQiNxT_ukvKImeaXolBTSWHKJ0B29YYBcw/s1600/P1180889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrlAmztE1Vhl73Dx4wj8Vq_T27li6GijH6HufRQmenQZW0yowj_tsAUZ80qul9uobs6XLEb8FaE_UdAeVXe61wOoB4is8HcVSLDaDjOBSGhBQiNxT_ukvKImeaXolBTSWHKJ0B29YYBcw/s320/P1180889.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>The Humane Society has veterinarians spaying dogs right next to the adorable baby pigs. I would have never stopped to watch this, or expected anyone else in our family to want to, either. Brenden sat down right at the beginning and was mesmerized for almost the entire time. Eventually he got bored (I think it was right about the time they started the sutures) but before we left that building he wanted to check on the dog. After he was sure she was okay he told us, "I want to cut dogs in half when I grow up!" I know a good school for that! (Go Pokes!)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>While Brenden was keeping watch over the dog, Lauren, Connie and I went to check out the chickens. There are some funny looking birds out there! I don't know how some of them can see. They were actually packing the birds up and one lady offered to let Lauren pet a chicken. This is what happened instead: </li>
</ul>
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<br />
<div>
The second trip was just as fun, although it was filled with a lot more tears. I guess the kids saved their frustration for their dad and grandpa. Ha! We rode rides, ate more cheap corn dogs and cheese on a stick, and finally had a chance to walk through the buildings. No Ginsu knives this year! Maybe next year, Connie? :) </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Great memories from this trip:</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>Brenden convinced his grandma Connie to go on the big roller coaster this time. He ran off yelling the same thing, "I didn't cry! I didn't get sick! I WANT TO GO AGAIN!"</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOW5TLMlasln8hK60C9ZU1uA3E7712V8OJSOXc9aigvbp6-eF69TdYgpHt2P6ZiuBZk36BT9gM0_e3WMw1Gpiawg_1bM7Bgq5IUeaBTcvdk0kAx1eQQ87RJ0rNgacpoos5rfTzGMQBf8/s1600/P1180919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaOW5TLMlasln8hK60C9ZU1uA3E7712V8OJSOXc9aigvbp6-eF69TdYgpHt2P6ZiuBZk36BT9gM0_e3WMw1Gpiawg_1bM7Bgq5IUeaBTcvdk0kAx1eQQ87RJ0rNgacpoos5rfTzGMQBf8/s320/P1180919.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I feel a tradition starting. :)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<ul>
<li>Lauren decided that grandpa Mike was the lucky one to go on her roller coaster and again, she had a blast. </li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKU5hbPXAs5k5WIGMfrnOfEXBgRl4dx1XIo3m5M-BB47cgOehS90m0B_5DnIs3UMEzFpkvNKkGmsYXQsKL07uXVLJ6yX6QMlv19L-o24co0uWnpj8nZhLfIb4Am0m2vligdhyUpASqm84/s1600/P1180935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKU5hbPXAs5k5WIGMfrnOfEXBgRl4dx1XIo3m5M-BB47cgOehS90m0B_5DnIs3UMEzFpkvNKkGmsYXQsKL07uXVLJ6yX6QMlv19L-o24co0uWnpj8nZhLfIb4Am0m2vligdhyUpASqm84/s320/P1180935.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>We passed the trampolines where the kids are strapped in and can jump super high. Brenden was desperate to go and squealed so loud when grandma said okay. He tried his hardest to flip over but never quite made it. He sure got up there, though!</li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li>He also flirted hard core with a little girl behind him in line. He shook her hand, picked up her ticket for her, and told her he liked her shirt. Yep...just like his dad was when I met him! :)</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI-Lfzyrp8ZdPGl3eKb4AxxcK0jS7nzSSDNs07mLFEgt1IRA8K_eIgpXRlQaONLaonG2lmsOViSg5CzQDAxbwVLW47vkV4ZYqWMcrvwEel_x1rDFyhzUTe_g-KjVTepVIzYWpGDiPh7k/s1600/P1180945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI-Lfzyrp8ZdPGl3eKb4AxxcK0jS7nzSSDNs07mLFEgt1IRA8K_eIgpXRlQaONLaonG2lmsOViSg5CzQDAxbwVLW47vkV4ZYqWMcrvwEel_x1rDFyhzUTe_g-KjVTepVIzYWpGDiPh7k/s320/P1180945.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>As we were leaving the Expo Center we heard some music. Anytime Lauren hears music she wants to dance, and this was definitely music with a drum beat. We walked over to the stage and saw there was a Native American dancing demonstration. Lauren desperately wanted to dance with them and, to our surprise, one of the dances was an audience participation dance. I never expected one of the guys to walk over to us, with all the bells and feathers and fancy clothes, and ask Lauren to dance. She did the entire thing! All the way around the room, down the aisle and back around again. It was so cute!</li>
</ul>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>Brenden begged, again, for a toy that "wasn't too expensive." (These kids!) He happened to pass a couple of kids holding an "arrow bow" (or, you know, a bow and arrow) and Connie found out where they were located. They only had one left so we had to find something else for Lauren. At first she picked out a very expensive Horse Jack-in-the-Box, which was a definite no go. We tried to convince her to pick out something cute, like a stuffed animal or a purse. What does my daughter decide she <i>loves</i>? A pink pig with football laces on it's back (pigskin?) that makes one very annoying BOOOIIINNNGGG sound. That pig has gone everywhere with her since! </li>
</ul>
</div>
<br />
Next year we won't be able to get away with just buying tickets. We're already trying to decide if we should do the mega ride pass or just get a wristband. Budgeting for the fair? I guess so!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6vQjt5m-54bwTmwNqT9xfoRAEVjVfBDPI5DEVlZ7GK4wu-RWHHmVeYGXtu3ANDRniCVgxJtOF8A7_ytyQCFynkRLmGTGEmIwk3ERZgeyADPrjNOIWSy_ZCsIQcSJuLzQMgiMB7bu8ic/s1600/P1180965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV6vQjt5m-54bwTmwNqT9xfoRAEVjVfBDPI5DEVlZ7GK4wu-RWHHmVeYGXtu3ANDRniCVgxJtOF8A7_ytyQCFynkRLmGTGEmIwk3ERZgeyADPrjNOIWSy_ZCsIQcSJuLzQMgiMB7bu8ic/s320/P1180965.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Worth it.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-38540345788293655582012-09-16T11:47:00.000-05:002012-09-16T11:47:00.120-05:00Happy FIFTH Birthday, Brenden!My wonderful Brenden,<br />
<br />
For the past five years I've sat down to write these letters and tried my best to capture the awesomeness of you over the past year. How you've grown, what you've learned, what really makes you special.<br />
<br />
<br />
This year I'm pretty sure I don't have the words to really do that. You have grown <i>so </i>much, learned <i>so </i>much and there is just <i>so</i> much that makes you special that I'm sure to leave something out.<br />
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<br />
You completed another year of preschool at Kids Kare and started Pre-K at Jenks West. The first few weeks of all day school were rough (anxiety about dams? Where did that come from?) but you've really gotten into the groove and enjoy your teachers and all of your new best friends.<br />
<br />
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<br />
You've had a blast playing t-ball and showed us that you have a natural swing. (That must have come from your dad.) We also learned that you do NOT like soccer, which is okay since I don't get that "off sides" stuff anyway.<br />
<br />
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In just a year you've learned how to spell your name and write it with both upper and lower letters. You're also learning to read, which is such a cool thing to watch. The look on your face when you figure something out is priceless. I hope that you always love learning that much.<br />
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Instead of Thomas and Diego your into Power Rangers Samurai, Ninjago, Beyblades, Batman, Spiderman and Scooby Doo. Your love of the color blue is just as strong as ever, which makes it pretty easy to pick out things for you.<br />
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You're becoming a very good big brother (although of course you have your moments). As I'm typing you're showing Lauren how to use your much wanted web shooter and being very patient when she doesn't understand how to use it. You love your little sister, even if she drives you nuts sometimes, and she adores you. She cries every morning we drop you off at school. "I want Brenden! I want my brudder!" I hope that you are always that close.<br />
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Every day you say something to make me laugh. Just yesterday you had a weird look on your face and when I asked what was wrong you told me you had "issues". What do you consider "issues"? Sneezing, coughing and hiccups. It's difficult to keep a straight face sometimes.<br />
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It only takes a second (literally) for someone to become your "best friend". You're so outgoing and can't understand when someone else isn't. (We'll work on that.) You're always the first to introduce yourself, with Lauren right behind you. I have never met two more friendly kids.<br />
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I didn't think it was possible to love you more than I already did, but I do, everyday. Every night I say my prayers with you and thank God that he let me be your mom, and I am so so thankful to have you in my life.<br />
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I love you my crazy boy.<br />
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Love Always,<br />
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MomThe Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-19253670144312331712012-09-05T13:54:00.000-05:002012-09-05T13:54:02.350-05:00First DaysIt's been a few weeks since Brenden's <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2012/08/pre-k.html">first day of pre-k</a>, but today was Lauren's <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2012/09/preschool-year-2.html">very first day</a> at her new preschool. I knew she was excited to go because she cried every time we dropped Brenden off and begged to go see "her school".<br />
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It's crazy to see the difference from last year to this year. Brenden was excited about school and really enjoys it, but has had some strange anxieties pop up that we've had to deal with. I'm not sure what triggered it exactly, but he was suddenly terrified of dams and the earth flooding. (i.e. Hoover Dam) He refused to get in the car if the garage door was open and stood next to his teacher during recess because he was so scared. We had a long chat about not living near dams, what he could do to not be so scared (pray, think about rainbows) and read about Noah and the Ark and how God promised never to flood the earth again. It took a few weeks but he's finally past it. I was really worried about him!<br />
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Now, he's absolutely thriving. He has friends, loves his teachers (Who he said were "really smart but kind of weird." Huh???) and is enjoying having homework! I even had a mom come up to me at Back to School night and tell me that Brenden helped her son on his first day of school, which was 2 days after the official first day of school. Brenden ran up to him, introduced himself and decided that the new boy was his "best friend!" His mom said she was able to leave much earlier than she expected and it was all because Brenden helped his new friend feel comfortable. *proud mommy moment!*<br />
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Lauren's very first day <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/09/laurens-first-day.html">last year</a> began with screaming, as did many of her drop offs for months after that, but I was sure this year would be a little better. Can you say "total opposite"? Not only did she happily pose for me with her new backpack, but she practically skipped into class and promptly forgot that I was there. I had to go up to her to tell her goodbye and she didn't even glance up from playing. I hope the rest of her day went as smoothly!<br />
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I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays with both kids in school. Tim's guess was "lots of crafting" and he may be right! I'm hoping I can be a little more productive than that.<br />
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I have to find SOMETHING to do to keep myself from worrying about my babies! Any suggestions?<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-7231910158481511742012-09-05T13:19:00.003-05:002012-09-05T13:47:02.726-05:00Preschool, Year 2!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtPMnVmOQ2ETxdHllZmMu3T-exDnxvbIWx1guXkDLytbriiKYNME2OVoNLuCi8ehkMeh1e56NRvIeOA2kYX1MxCz_cRHK5DtO2tE5KMQgZkuOZKk8vJVi_FmECDSi1u9kTndrPYQprcs/s1600/Lauren+preschool+year+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixtPMnVmOQ2ETxdHllZmMu3T-exDnxvbIWx1guXkDLytbriiKYNME2OVoNLuCi8ehkMeh1e56NRvIeOA2kYX1MxCz_cRHK5DtO2tE5KMQgZkuOZKk8vJVi_FmECDSi1u9kTndrPYQprcs/s320/Lauren+preschool+year+2.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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What a difference from <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/09/laurens-first-day.html">last year</a>!</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-65891999741016636712012-08-25T08:58:00.000-05:002012-08-25T08:58:50.293-05:00Happy Birthday, Bre!!!Sometimes you meet someone who you just KNOW was meant to be in your life. It's almost as though you've known each other forever...like your souls were friends in heaven and finally found each other on earth. That person understands you better than anyone you've ever met and accepts you for all of your faults and loves you anyway.<br />
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I was so blessed to meet Bre over 2 years ago. I'm glad our souls found each other.<br />
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Happy Birthday, Bre! I LOVE YOU!!!<br />
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We ALL love you! :)</div>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-54361522325423847952012-08-20T09:15:00.000-05:002012-08-20T09:15:54.061-05:00Pre-K<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-81172854818958323252012-08-18T09:53:00.000-05:002012-08-18T09:53:05.637-05:00Good Neighbors, Super Dance Teacher, and Peach WineAs anyone that follows me on Facebook knows (because I sure complained about it enough, huh?) Tim was in Missouri for 2 weeks. It was for a class that he has to take to be eligible for promotion to Major next year and he did fantastic. (One of his instructors called him "outstanding" and actually wrote that he was "easily one of the brightest students during this cycle." Great job, Tim!) I knew it would be tough by myself with the kids just getting back from a long vacation in Colorado, which was awesome for everyone, and dealing with all of the back to school madness. I just didn't realize exactly <i>how </i>crazy it would start out.<br />
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My friend Shelly was staying with us for a bit and around midnight we said goodnight and I headed to bed. Right after I plugged my phone in to charge it started ringing, which never happens that late at night. The caller i.d. showed that it was the gate, which we have call my phone so we can let people in even if we aren't at home. There was no way I was going to let someone in and I didn't even answer to find out who it was.<br />
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I double checked with Shelly to make sure that she wasn't expecting anyone and then decided to go out back and look to see if anyone was at the gate. Standing on the chair I can get a decent view. I never even made it out the door before I realized something was wrong. A wall of smoke smacked me in the face and made my eyes water. I could hear the crackling of the fire so I knew it was close. That was the same time that the horrible fire in <a href="http://mannfordeagle.com/news/scale-of-fire-unprecedented-for-mannford/article_4d561442-e169-11e1-869e-0019bb2963f4.html">Mannford</a> was causing so much damage and I knew how dangerous the conditions were. I looked to my left and realized that it was right outside of our neighborhood in a field. It was already tall enough that I could see it over the houses.<br />
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I'm embarrassed to say I froze. I had no idea what to do. Thank goodness Shelly was here. I asked her to come outside to see if I should be concerned. She barely glanced at it and then said, "Call 911" and ran out of the house to start banging on my neighbors' doors to warn them.<br />
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For the first time in my life I dialed 911. The responder assured me that they were aware of it and that the fire department was on its way. I ran out to start banging on doors as well.<br />
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I'm pretty sure we scared several of my neighbors to death. It's not exactly common to have two crazy chicks in pajamas running around and screaming about a fire. Once they realized what was going on I think they forgave us. The people in the house closest to the fire (it was only about 20 yards from their fence) started packing their kids and pets in the car. Shelly helped them spray their fence and they turned their sprinklers on. The embers were falling everywhere and the ash was smacking us in the face. We even had an ember land in our yard that our neighbor put out. (Thanks, Tim!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1ETY-N1ogKSLyxy-ayEfM9Ec1OhpBJt7g6gXtxEju7ZlRmsOOq9u9aLXlB7yO7IGS9IPwtSu4708RW6H0HPWPaUmn0wzZxPv_jCxs3Qxdjp7F8SrTisX8swbNqqDFPA4fURmGSIflTA/s1600/482074_695077702281_1485605498_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX1ETY-N1ogKSLyxy-ayEfM9Ec1OhpBJt7g6gXtxEju7ZlRmsOOq9u9aLXlB7yO7IGS9IPwtSu4708RW6H0HPWPaUmn0wzZxPv_jCxs3Qxdjp7F8SrTisX8swbNqqDFPA4fURmGSIflTA/s320/482074_695077702281_1485605498_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Standing in front of our house. Scary!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-bL8nUFOrZ0t6vuBTSe7vreVvmd7S6oV6zH8cd8adB6siY3Mrjcm569aAED4XrFZj7QrWS9368UcrM7HdHjCDK2sDIQIWhgOETFvwfCntNVzcM5YNkhnP2LX08-7Ba8fHkjwcMhMamI/s1600/427013_695136379691_1382049635_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-bL8nUFOrZ0t6vuBTSe7vreVvmd7S6oV6zH8cd8adB6siY3Mrjcm569aAED4XrFZj7QrWS9368UcrM7HdHjCDK2sDIQIWhgOETFvwfCntNVzcM5YNkhnP2LX08-7Ba8fHkjwcMhMamI/s320/427013_695136379691_1382049635_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ash the next morning all over our yard.</span></td></tr>
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Eventually we had woken up everyone we could and watched while the fire department got it under control, which only took about 30 minutes. We also found out that the person who called me from the gate was a neighbor across the street in a different neighborhood who had seen the fire when he put his dog outside and ran over to wake everyone up. We thanked him profusely and he laughed and thanked us back for not being afraid of the "crazy shoe-less man running around like crazy with his shirtless friend with a tattoo sleeve." :)<br />
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Once we knew that everything was okay we decided to crack open a bottle of peach wine and rehash the madness of the past hour. What was terrifying in the moment was absolutely hilarious afterwards. Of course it may just have been the adrenaline that was still pounding through our brains. "Super Dance Teacher to the rescue! With her trusty sidekick, Tonto!" Oh Shelly...I'm so glad I didn't have to do this alone. :)<br />
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Thank you nice neighbors! Thank you Jenks Fire Department! Thank you Shelly and peach wine! I hope I don't have to go through that ever again.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-77023202023470729582012-08-15T10:39:00.001-05:002012-08-15T10:39:16.241-05:00Where I've BeenAs many of my avid readers have mentioned to me (which includes my mom, Tim's mom, maybe Tim...and that's about it. Ha!) I have not posted since <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2012/06/happy-fathers-day.html">Father's Day</a>. Why? Here's a list of reasons, with (several) accompanying pictures, to explain:<br />
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1. The Lake<br />
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We haven't been able to go to the lake as much as I would have liked, but the times we have gone have been awesome. Lauren and Brenden both love the jet skis and Brenden has become so brave when it comes to jumping off of the boat into the water. He can dive, flip, cannon ball, and otherwise cause lots of splashing. The difference from last summer is amazing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKJOoz9hKL1ixuMxrRVS6u7RM5ni-Awe_Wo8knrV3VREHC1f7uZlwq_9gVTbqVzBXCzI0F3NA1aRF8Mv3OaGvfO-h61CD9HTuSQnD_VjZdL1HBXUOBuIXBTOvJQXieRun2EJHFzw_LH8/s1600/P1180307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLKJOoz9hKL1ixuMxrRVS6u7RM5ni-Awe_Wo8knrV3VREHC1f7uZlwq_9gVTbqVzBXCzI0F3NA1aRF8Mv3OaGvfO-h61CD9HTuSQnD_VjZdL1HBXUOBuIXBTOvJQXieRun2EJHFzw_LH8/s320/P1180307.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Cool Dude</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9vcr5QR75jNVZ8dqFK7JPVthrMpLULRhvLeJujxCRfLoMZ0UMWwPjEW3VD7IKfuKt8jqt4mrq5LS5_-5TxCzabppkoCIWrVTpJEMbrWWdeBEjVNNxf0wpoFvexZP4eW2IHIb2gD0kwM/s1600/P1180315.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9vcr5QR75jNVZ8dqFK7JPVthrMpLULRhvLeJujxCRfLoMZ0UMWwPjEW3VD7IKfuKt8jqt4mrq5LS5_-5TxCzabppkoCIWrVTpJEMbrWWdeBEjVNNxf0wpoFvexZP4eW2IHIb2gD0kwM/s320/P1180315.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Zzzz....</span></td></tr>
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2. Baby Gazing</div>
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My beautiful friend Bre had her gorgeous daughter Brynja (pronounced Brin-ya) on June 25th and we've all been pretty smitten with her. Hard not to be! She's such a sweet baby and just so dang cute!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQE8iCxjKpZT_gZyK01XvXe-wHUL4YWys2HdZZ5haBHo6mNmqanoaRGOq2IdchcdqUUdDcdcQtMhdF5cijNELGG_-tGjJrYXJNYV3lCF3tjXaiIRMsfHz7437XdIr4jvtRTLo7hqplpvY/s1600/529407_10150912823084094_1311669548_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQE8iCxjKpZT_gZyK01XvXe-wHUL4YWys2HdZZ5haBHo6mNmqanoaRGOq2IdchcdqUUdDcdcQtMhdF5cijNELGG_-tGjJrYXJNYV3lCF3tjXaiIRMsfHz7437XdIr4jvtRTLo7hqplpvY/s320/529407_10150912823084094_1311669548_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meeting my beautiful Brynja, less than an hour old.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlo7YFBAwJ7gHWGq7BUiSWscvDCc1UOCQlAyz7hFoZkeKgGvNrblhRCcG1gNiQDd75uyxRIY-9OD9Yni9clkEbi4ixg4UN89eRHCbhMAyhb2QRDV7LFfLAK-CxBGQDa4qm8kXATUTA9E/s1600/P1180326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimlo7YFBAwJ7gHWGq7BUiSWscvDCc1UOCQlAyz7hFoZkeKgGvNrblhRCcG1gNiQDd75uyxRIY-9OD9Yni9clkEbi4ixg4UN89eRHCbhMAyhb2QRDV7LFfLAK-CxBGQDa4qm8kXATUTA9E/s320/P1180326.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Checking out her fingers and toes.</span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieOqAd9E7ypW77XayQdHBq8ZcOy8zqlpXAK2rlSFyjl1NC208NeglD94AsGyNM5q8Zwjgm0LHEue64Lri5raXymY8KFUnkdMOCQujJqWd2CANg1IDYusdSA3mVSSZJTpzoEYdyNOg9pZE/s1600/P1180448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieOqAd9E7ypW77XayQdHBq8ZcOy8zqlpXAK2rlSFyjl1NC208NeglD94AsGyNM5q8Zwjgm0LHEue64Lri5raXymY8KFUnkdMOCQujJqWd2CANg1IDYusdSA3mVSSZJTpzoEYdyNOg9pZE/s320/P1180448.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">"She's so cute! Want to hold her!"</span></td></tr>
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3. Branson</div>
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For Father's Day, Karen and her brother and sister took their dad, Ralph, to Branson. He had no idea where they were going or what they would be doing, so we decided to add a few more surprises. The kids didn't know where we were going, either so when they walked in to see their grandma they were overjoyed! They also got to meet their Aunt Brenda and Uncle Phil (he had no idea we were coming, either!) and we spent a super fun 2 days being totally spoiled. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWhP-LFs0_t1qT8yRzasgBeCqIu_HK1SbHqec8qoHQ5537JfD4VsSnrosqxa1WUY9-XJVwTk8majZGaHJWkeLUE27MhyxGi6e7MU3fAAZs0bWpv4PlbU4X-v5G78qKhBNL_T7F8jaqYk/s1600/P1180112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYWhP-LFs0_t1qT8yRzasgBeCqIu_HK1SbHqec8qoHQ5537JfD4VsSnrosqxa1WUY9-XJVwTk8majZGaHJWkeLUE27MhyxGi6e7MU3fAAZs0bWpv4PlbU4X-v5G78qKhBNL_T7F8jaqYk/s320/P1180112.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Grandma's Happy Kiddos</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuN12WveMctZHN5VJzQVGQESh-hBDFH_WH2oto59s1TByJpQzKwbMZyhGZ_o-zu3drEq9dE1gNnflBYnYA28kbhJLplzv45GYp5uNjv67G5PUmfo4czNZMAiy13J3RnDbZq3P-eKLBtQ/s1600/P1180107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHuN12WveMctZHN5VJzQVGQESh-hBDFH_WH2oto59s1TByJpQzKwbMZyhGZ_o-zu3drEq9dE1gNnflBYnYA28kbhJLplzv45GYp5uNjv67G5PUmfo4czNZMAiy13J3RnDbZq3P-eKLBtQ/s320/P1180107.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Reading with Aunt Brenda</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aJJ8XOTBW5ajbWyAiifuV40Sgd1c9KqlNIkhgVRTlioR8a8Qsd07_Rh2anpAJCA5BXwfTInmP3z7p0bcf6T3NnkkUUvaH_kJEqSGha-tB_1B_yXeZoNpkCob_S9epxEEgFGqIKDc628/s1600/P1180162.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9aJJ8XOTBW5ajbWyAiifuV40Sgd1c9KqlNIkhgVRTlioR8a8Qsd07_Rh2anpAJCA5BXwfTInmP3z7p0bcf6T3NnkkUUvaH_kJEqSGha-tB_1B_yXeZoNpkCob_S9epxEEgFGqIKDc628/s320/P1180162.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Checking out the fountain at Branson Landing with Great Grandpa</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjIwcKGK-VqlE1zCSrI1l1FDckZlWJ9LhnvW8bQUIo1HT98jn2C-ZvKjd5ItXe9HM3J_tZIwp4Kyldc6o6DZgkNOXmibA1CN6fPOoHBtL1UiZIGP3xHr5R2D0q4ENeBIutAi8mvSrnNA/s1600/P1180165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHjIwcKGK-VqlE1zCSrI1l1FDckZlWJ9LhnvW8bQUIo1HT98jn2C-ZvKjd5ItXe9HM3J_tZIwp4Kyldc6o6DZgkNOXmibA1CN6fPOoHBtL1UiZIGP3xHr5R2D0q4ENeBIutAi8mvSrnNA/s320/P1180165.JPG" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Head butts with Uncle Phil</span></td></tr>
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4. New Car</div>
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On our way to the airport in Branson to drop off Karen, Ralph and Phil, our trusty Expedition decided to stop. Many hours, no naps, a ride in a police car, and a dead cell phone later I was told that the car was <i>done</i>. The engine had seized and there was nothing to do except replace the engine or get another car. Obviously we decided to go with a new (to us) car. It was a stressful 2 days, but it worked out.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9DVm5HkR3AkQpMKvF7De15ACj3rnYH7_ymp2RjgIoh0ETj9mNAKtXot4P30fxxSessSCrExfepUfeEcciYT-2o1QcHa4kzH3yhr2CYg78RwntevNTdQsssCOexxfIiLDR0Ui-wtaKyA/s1600/295404_686540166571_648378139_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9DVm5HkR3AkQpMKvF7De15ACj3rnYH7_ymp2RjgIoh0ETj9mNAKtXot4P30fxxSessSCrExfepUfeEcciYT-2o1QcHa4kzH3yhr2CYg78RwntevNTdQsssCOexxfIiLDR0Ui-wtaKyA/s320/295404_686540166571_648378139_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">I know, I know...a RED car. We made sure to slap an OSU sticker on ASAP. :)</span></td></tr>
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5. Staying Cool
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We had the chance to go to a Driller's game and the kids had a great time. Not that we watched much baseball. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFzfs2XKfhEouLwp62NkVcbrzXPCE6yPeex3OlpeG4cAaTWzedmAbeffDgEDsm8-gPEdYr7rzRIGe7N4ClYAQp0Zp8JZWneoS6qjoYJQ0_pgW_nrtxTvZf2OhaLSDihHd6mOdUBwQAls/s1600/P1180416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFzfs2XKfhEouLwp62NkVcbrzXPCE6yPeex3OlpeG4cAaTWzedmAbeffDgEDsm8-gPEdYr7rzRIGe7N4ClYAQp0Zp8JZWneoS6qjoYJQ0_pgW_nrtxTvZf2OhaLSDihHd6mOdUBwQAls/s320/P1180416.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
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This splash pad is all slick tiles and sharp edges. Tim decided that it is the worst designed splash pad he's ever seen. I completely agree. The kids did not care one bit.<br />
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6. Colorado Vacation<br />
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Karen and Rick were super excited to have the kids come stay with them for 10 days. I met Karen in the middle (Hays, KS) and bawled as they drove off to have a ridiculously awesome time. Every day was a new adventure, from amusement parks to splash pads to trips to Toys-R-Us. They were happy to see me, but very sad to see their grandma and grandpa go. Luckily we should see them again soon!<br />
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7. Cleaning up Lauren's Messes<br />
<br />
Not long after Father's Day I started potty training Lauren. If you've ever been through this then you understand why I've been MIA. If you haven't, I'm jealous. Between laundry, cleaning the floors, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning the chairs, cleaning...cleaning...cleaning...it's been mostly a haze. She hasn't been very cooperative and there have been many times I just wanted to give up. If something isn't her idea she refuses to do it, throwing one major fit after another. (can you say "black eye" from headbutting? Sigh...) And if that weren't bad enough, she's also going through some strange anxiety phase and refuses to nap. Instead, she tears apart her room, which has led me to remove EVERYTHING, from her toys to her clothes. Some days are okay, some days are downright awful, but we'll get there.<br />
<br />
THIS TOO SHALL PASS. And now I have a ton of embarrassing stories to tell in front of her friends, boyfriends, and at her wedding. Hey...I have to think of the positives, right?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKwi31E35aX3sPRayCwqwayvAy5KnthL4XJOpOpDyVzvXzkBvSQHEhO7qwCAXUNXjM4cDuq2DwKqD8-7iFd3ukA64mFxmUAMlemA1QSr4gWZePoLyKW-lhyLSIJWaJB-ZZp4sbhEIbzM/s1600/2012-08-13_15.42.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKwi31E35aX3sPRayCwqwayvAy5KnthL4XJOpOpDyVzvXzkBvSQHEhO7qwCAXUNXjM4cDuq2DwKqD8-7iFd3ukA64mFxmUAMlemA1QSr4gWZePoLyKW-lhyLSIJWaJB-ZZp4sbhEIbzM/s320/2012-08-13_15.42.28.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">That's every piece of clothing she could reach. As well as some toys and shoes.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMz5RIBqYbAkRhiSWRFOgxhxO46dbEsGjQ_Kn1xDnUqhyphenhyphenyhbzLswODXEVLbtcs01eupEOOFyZsqEsXTEgYvw-avA8_5eeoXUrQ_87VdaI_M8_4gpaUJp2RDrGssFcW9mKTJF85iZIKgEg/s1600/2012-08-13_15.42.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMz5RIBqYbAkRhiSWRFOgxhxO46dbEsGjQ_Kn1xDnUqhyphenhyphenyhbzLswODXEVLbtcs01eupEOOFyZsqEsXTEgYvw-avA8_5eeoXUrQ_87VdaI_M8_4gpaUJp2RDrGssFcW9mKTJF85iZIKgEg/s320/2012-08-13_15.42.37.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">They used to be attached. She yanked them off.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB9QGFdMFcPtDc9Q4I37kl3q6YRy4YYvV3QU1EUFipdSxfL6ohk8mZzK0l5d2jOcSrvs0xz_B5qVqUFgXwt2SvzVJ1BraVK1RMwI25cDLEVcObwBoVJJYHRTcCOboWttx9cDFPVyZJwkc/s1600/2012-08-13_15.42.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB9QGFdMFcPtDc9Q4I37kl3q6YRy4YYvV3QU1EUFipdSxfL6ohk8mZzK0l5d2jOcSrvs0xz_B5qVqUFgXwt2SvzVJ1BraVK1RMwI25cDLEVcObwBoVJJYHRTcCOboWttx9cDFPVyZJwkc/s320/2012-08-13_15.42.55.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And left some marks.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXTVCGlLUwV_MYxYEbVonCZdxtnk51fMjTzyIhocpe7SQozLPgM0gEguWd7M_dKbIlzDhcyPN23s2VQ91byjybAIQ_O-TLPaI9kQ0wxTU4o5Bry7-oH6TT-qLJkmiuESWjGTS_g3clH8/s1600/2012-08-14_17.58.07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdXTVCGlLUwV_MYxYEbVonCZdxtnk51fMjTzyIhocpe7SQozLPgM0gEguWd7M_dKbIlzDhcyPN23s2VQ91byjybAIQ_O-TLPaI9kQ0wxTU4o5Bry7-oH6TT-qLJkmiuESWjGTS_g3clH8/s320/2012-08-14_17.58.07.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">But she'll nap in the car! Grrr...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2JpR8rWgBnQqymk52aGYZCUP6GfQdw8SBBXkYgydzBOrKcjbcWYCjSqq2D04X694InU1ZzXPbA_k6UlVRCifwWgpb-Koc_uMey44eCBDK-DgAlrM7R0VSdYj_zItNy191VdpRAtQX0s/s1600/2012-08-14_20.12.41.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX2JpR8rWgBnQqymk52aGYZCUP6GfQdw8SBBXkYgydzBOrKcjbcWYCjSqq2D04X694InU1ZzXPbA_k6UlVRCifwWgpb-Koc_uMey44eCBDK-DgAlrM7R0VSdYj_zItNy191VdpRAtQX0s/s320/2012-08-14_20.12.41.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">And now Brenden wants in on the action. As long as they aren't fighting, right?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-63420353206967802082012-06-17T16:10:00.001-05:002012-06-17T16:10:40.539-05:00Happy Father's Day!To all the wonderful men in our lives...we love you!<br />
<br />
Happy Father's Day!!!<br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"Small boy's definition of Father's Day: It's just like Mother's Day only you don't spend so much."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~Unknown</div>
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-48732375635759643262012-06-13T11:52:00.000-05:002012-06-13T11:52:00.454-05:00Hair...Then and NowOh yes...<a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/06/hair.html?m=0">a lot has changed in a year</a>.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KGjcIoE5EJ6abDkUstZgNCkfOk1t5oWEXSiG2kFEr1taBdoMraImYrYL0VBS-LyuQeGZ4ZthaFvXiHrqL5IHd7QEnljkeQA03SFd-8HGoNWzSKdrZxrpw5tzyAC0ldHvb4ICkuAYTVM/s1600/251244_580831931721_7611697_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4KGjcIoE5EJ6abDkUstZgNCkfOk1t5oWEXSiG2kFEr1taBdoMraImYrYL0VBS-LyuQeGZ4ZthaFvXiHrqL5IHd7QEnljkeQA03SFd-8HGoNWzSKdrZxrpw5tzyAC0ldHvb4ICkuAYTVM/s320/251244_580831931721_7611697_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">June 2011</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpvanc-Cmmr-lONXn9mDiW-ws6SnRsXYkfIKV4NQPp17U2qAaCs1qHvHzjNQUbWxLP2AVL-xYy_NLyQ1_OBR2SF3eQZEvGysdSrJ3Eotbg6g_6w5LWOipcf-qcKwVKCCsjRg9CFNy50o/s1600/401832_681693379571_711910592_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpvanc-Cmmr-lONXn9mDiW-ws6SnRsXYkfIKV4NQPp17U2qAaCs1qHvHzjNQUbWxLP2AVL-xYy_NLyQ1_OBR2SF3eQZEvGysdSrJ3Eotbg6g_6w5LWOipcf-qcKwVKCCsjRg9CFNy50o/s320/401832_681693379571_711910592_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">June 2012</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0NB5H0HtkJZITi7vjntf-jS22TP5W_5YHdiGxgx3U59hyphenhyphenHLZ4V3RlAsDVATdtquCnhwV2Wk9sDOSoEh7RxJMzsxIWvri1CM3yzEZR7oA1UYckrwMX379aS2GGAvCwGWdBY0v69HdrVw/s1600/263893_583344097321_3975582_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0NB5H0HtkJZITi7vjntf-jS22TP5W_5YHdiGxgx3U59hyphenhyphenHLZ4V3RlAsDVATdtquCnhwV2Wk9sDOSoEh7RxJMzsxIWvri1CM3yzEZR7oA1UYckrwMX379aS2GGAvCwGWdBY0v69HdrVw/s320/263893_583344097321_3975582_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">June 2011</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8y5OCRz0FLfQZNdrMxbF7za-wmHq7VWX3EWX9nNDqv5DucxoolYqamV8XZbr0TbkRS0OHeR6ZUfOeOnB8WDxenKg4e3XVfaTN3jv0E42h5SQAEIgDBDXgGuAmoiVECvWL0-IjYeSvElk/s1600/P1170702+crop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8y5OCRz0FLfQZNdrMxbF7za-wmHq7VWX3EWX9nNDqv5DucxoolYqamV8XZbr0TbkRS0OHeR6ZUfOeOnB8WDxenKg4e3XVfaTN3jv0E42h5SQAEIgDBDXgGuAmoiVECvWL0-IjYeSvElk/s320/P1170702+crop.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">June 2012</span></td></tr>
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<br />
So we have longer hair, new house, a few more wrinkles (mine) and gray hairs (also mine) and a million more awesome memories. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-8522119148179892522012-06-12T11:19:00.000-05:002012-06-12T11:19:00.049-05:00One Wish GrantedThe <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2012/05/last-day-of-school.html">last day of school</a>, Brenden wasn't feeling so great. By dinner time he was lying on the floor, lethargic, and burning up. I packed him into the car, which he was extremely upset about, and headed over to the after hours clinic.<br />
<br />
Thankfully it had just opened and was completely empty. We only waited a few minutes before we were walked back into an exam room. I was not at all surprised that his temperature was 103.3 and they immediately gave him some ibuprofen. However, I was definitely surprised they sent in a nurse that had obviously not had much experience in swabbing children's throats for strep. Not 5 seconds after he finished, and conveniently right after he left, Brenden started throwing up all over the room. The poor guy couldn't stop. I felt so bad for him!<br />
<br />
It wasn't long before the results were back...positive for strep. Poor guy! Unfortunately for him (and fortunately for me) his doctor recommended a S-H-O-T (yep...she's smart and spelled it out) and I completely agreed. Ten days of oral medication to stop him from throwing up and then for the strep or one shot? He was not at all happy with my decision.<br />
<br />
And now you're wondering why I titled this post "One Wish Granted". Don't worry...I'm getting there. :)<br />
<br />
We decided a long time ago to never lie to Brenden when it came to what was going on at the doctor's office. I want him to trust me, even if it means he's going to be upset with me. And believe me, he was <i>very </i>upset with me. I decided that this rough day deserved a big reward so I pulled out the big guns. "Brenden if you can be brave and get this shot, not only will you feel better but I will order you a <a href="http://www.bandai.com/powerrangers/samurai/products/role-play-2/hydro-bow">Hydro Bow</a>."<br />
<br />
The change in his attitude was immediate. "Really, mommy??? My very own? Um...okay."<br />
<br />
He was still upset about getting the shot, but not quite as much as he had been. I think I was more upset that the not-so-experienced nurse was the one they sent in holding the syringe. (With someone to explain how to administer the shot...seriously?!)<br />
<br />
I'm pretty sure I don't have to tell you just how awful that shot was...for everyone involved.<br />
<br />
Five minutes later he was a different kid. He wasn't quite as feverish, he was smiling, and high-fived the nurses when they came back into the room. Somehow I even got him to agree that the shot was a good idea! He also wanted me to show them the Hydro Bow on my phone and made sure they knew he was getting it because he was "so brave!"<br />
<br />
This weekend, he got his reward. :)<br />
<br />
Worth it...<br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-42595900836306790342012-06-08T11:27:00.001-05:002012-06-08T11:27:59.271-05:00Narcolepsy Update; Alternate Title: ZZzzzzAs I sit here typing this post, my eyes are trying to close. The neurologist I visited about my migraines (Which are SO much better after <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2012/05/snap-crackle-pop.html">seeing the chiropractor</a> that he thought I was crazy to keep my appointment. We ended up talking about the Army and politics.) called what happens to me "sleep attacks" and that is the most accurate way I can explain them. I'll be doing something normal and then BAM...I have to sit down and if I'm not careful I start nodding off. I can start off a day feeling completely energized and ready to take on the world and within an hour I can barely force myself off of the couch.<br />
<br />
In short, this SUCKS.<br />
<br />
My first medication, <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0000416/">Nuvigil</a> (which sounds like a feminine product to me...eww), definitely made a difference, but it wasn't in a good way. Yes, I had more energy. So much energy that I could. not. stop. moving. It was terrible. It got to the point where I was having anxiety attacks and was so shaky that I had to bounce my legs for hours. Yep, that medicine was out.<br />
<br />
The medicine I'm on now, <a href="http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmedhealth/PMH0000223/">Focalin</a>, is primarily used to treat ADD and ADHD. This strikes me as funny because my brother was on Ritalin for years to treat his ADHD and when it would kick in you could tell because his body would slump and it was almost as if he was in a trance. It's supposed to have the opposite effect on me, which it has, but not with great results. I knew it was speeding up my heart rate and my blood pressure, but I didn't expect it speed up my metabolism. Sounds like a great side effect, huh? Not so much for my crazy body. I'm not losing weight, but I am metabolizing other medications more quickly. It's really bad when you're on Zoloft for <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/05/something-serious-ppd.html">anxiety and depression</a> and one of your main symptoms is fatigue and weight gain, which have been fine for months, and now...awful.<br />
<br />
(Side note: I'm not sure I have PPD but rather actual anxiety/depression. I don't think I'll ever be off of antidepressants, and I'm okay with that. When I'm on the right dose, I feel normal...which is amazing.)<br />
<br />
It only took a week or so on the Focalin for the depression to kick back in, but I didn't recognize it at first. I thought it was a normal PMS type thing and boy was I wrong. When I continued to get worse, could not kick the weepy, unmotivated feelings, it became obvious that I'm not where I should be medication-wise. Off to the doctor!<br />
<br />
Me: "I'm on doctor prescribed speed and I'm gaining weight. I think I'm the only person on the planet that has this ability. Also...help?"<br />
<br />
Doctor: "Um...yeah. That's not right. Let's figure this out."<br />
<br />
Up goes the dose of Zoloft, which I am now maxed out on. Not sure how this will go, but at least we're making changes and I won't be stuck in this awful hole. I hate switching medications so my fingers are crossed that this evens me out.<br />
<br />
Until I'm where I should be, please forgive me if I lose track of time, fall asleep when I should be doing something important, or cry for no reason at all. I promise, I'm working on it.<br />
<br />
How about some cute kids pictures to make up for it? Okay? Here ya go!<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-68894944321516046752012-06-05T15:55:00.000-05:002012-06-05T15:55:52.129-05:00Baby BalletThe thought of Lauren being old enough to enroll her in dance makes me ridiculously happy and completely weepy. Where is my <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2010/05/one-week-one-month.html">tiny baby</a>? Where did my <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/01/loving-what-you-have.html">serious little girl</a> go? Apparently she's been replaced by a moody, screaming, opinionated teenager that is trapped inside my 2 year old's body.<br />
<br />
I knew that the morning of dance class would be exciting for many reasons and Lauren did not disappoint. She was okay with the tights but as soon as I pulled on her leotard (with the sparkly tutu...what little girl as girly as mine hates a sparkly tutu???) she was in full on drama queen mode. She flung her self down, flailed, kicked, screamed, and yanked at her outfit. "No! Don't want it! TOO SMALL! NOOOO!"<br />
<br />
I was already prepared for this reaction so I grabbed my camera, snapped a few shots of her tantrum, and loaded her in the car. Ignoring her outbursts is usually the best idea for everyone involved.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0edMdXnBcUEAvl1jiPGDds-bdSBFDtV88AInw0SPh_ureL-H8_Ko1VMU1tUvvak0JnJiMS1ETTEscWmF6zw9Uc0uC9RiQPkWpU0bd71YtE2T6wzv1Dnah365Iz47-4Eg1YEI_wGF6CY/s1600/P1170433.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS0edMdXnBcUEAvl1jiPGDds-bdSBFDtV88AInw0SPh_ureL-H8_Ko1VMU1tUvvak0JnJiMS1ETTEscWmF6zw9Uc0uC9RiQPkWpU0bd71YtE2T6wzv1Dnah365Iz47-4Eg1YEI_wGF6CY/s320/P1170433.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sigh...</span></td></tr>
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<br />
By the time we drove into the parking lot at the dance studio she was just fine. She recognized the building and started saying, "Dance, dance. I want to dance." over and over. Of course she pulled the "shy" card when we first walked in, but that lasted all of 3 seconds. From then on, she was a happy, dancing princess.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZjfATTRM23W6TTYnqfuFBrQuZSftacLBOdG_ZbzrUn5N0Rbiw4xxk9Kh8tHwVwenzRTH8pXZnzbVoriseLG9cI3Lap4zafbDa-ZymKpogT-nAcHeMy7P8f-glIiZ4nnzm6vXJRbxDTc/s1600/P1170436.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkZjfATTRM23W6TTYnqfuFBrQuZSftacLBOdG_ZbzrUn5N0Rbiw4xxk9Kh8tHwVwenzRTH8pXZnzbVoriseLG9cI3Lap4zafbDa-ZymKpogT-nAcHeMy7P8f-glIiZ4nnzm6vXJRbxDTc/s320/P1170436.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg524yAwtbSbfInQA5dmNzHhdIiP6y_UzDWlDuRUZV5ODepK9C__J6nrL7gBtt8r0LnqPxGWNEKY9pX96awJZr8iol56dknhy0Mit_7MWtyZmkv34doSAhAvW7S9DRSQwijaxPZNb_ne1Q/s1600/P1170445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg524yAwtbSbfInQA5dmNzHhdIiP6y_UzDWlDuRUZV5ODepK9C__J6nrL7gBtt8r0LnqPxGWNEKY9pX96awJZr8iol56dknhy0Mit_7MWtyZmkv34doSAhAvW7S9DRSQwijaxPZNb_ne1Q/s320/P1170445.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvBm2mbEdFyVT7_f9DJ4T-X3mhyNASPAbTbr-2lYZFhFCkmUUlTeVRE28tg8iMnURGsC15tfaWfm_3St7bcsvwNq5fb7fY5r9QOvYdq5qUPef7JjDt8SbnaI3P9vo67bdwasf9CHxUBM/s1600/P1170496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEvBm2mbEdFyVT7_f9DJ4T-X3mhyNASPAbTbr-2lYZFhFCkmUUlTeVRE28tg8iMnURGsC15tfaWfm_3St7bcsvwNq5fb7fY5r9QOvYdq5qUPef7JjDt8SbnaI3P9vo67bdwasf9CHxUBM/s320/P1170496.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Complete with a crown.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
She paid attention, danced to every song, and had an all around fantastic time. I'm so excited that she loves it and actually participates. I hope we can keep this up for a long long time.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2wx47gb80azLtga3wBjy_0ZF7kUgg4-DD_4eLp8AheDrqosyjIucxwRUoi9qlyrZniaI1e7VY_NuRFOX9cSo7wgdaKGXx-EuBMujTMMW1N75PK8ZJ7C6T9c6bzHbe0QJxX88kYaVKCo/s1600/465975_680267322401_73003226_33133503_1450183492_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2wx47gb80azLtga3wBjy_0ZF7kUgg4-DD_4eLp8AheDrqosyjIucxwRUoi9qlyrZniaI1e7VY_NuRFOX9cSo7wgdaKGXx-EuBMujTMMW1N75PK8ZJ7C6T9c6bzHbe0QJxX88kYaVKCo/s320/465975_680267322401_73003226_33133503_1450183492_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-47606440925651910392012-05-31T09:52:00.000-05:002012-05-31T09:52:00.156-05:00Flat***Note to self: Never mention things like "I've never changed a tire." or "I don't know how to find the spare." to my husband. This will lead to lots of sweat, dirt and sore arms.***<br />
<br />
As we were leaving the lake this past weekend, Connie mentioned I should check our right rear tire. I didn't think much of it and we drove the hour home with no problems. Not long after that I headed to the store for dinner and made it back safely. Only a few hours later the tire was most definitely flat.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSAj6RKYxgUhxofQYYeQOUI_PTTTD2k77KDgCYqsQMJ7aiOms8ajReEEZteRYZoEUrdjhfFNlOZB79uhq85Wpm-68wvxtehkh3mvsv2b6oKGWQQgBGxj7IVNg8jap1rDxcEN1gKtctfA/s1600/2012-05-28_20.28.46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSAj6RKYxgUhxofQYYeQOUI_PTTTD2k77KDgCYqsQMJ7aiOms8ajReEEZteRYZoEUrdjhfFNlOZB79uhq85Wpm-68wvxtehkh3mvsv2b6oKGWQQgBGxj7IVNg8jap1rDxcEN1gKtctfA/s320/2012-05-28_20.28.46.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Yes, I had mentioned in the last month or so to Tim that I had never changed a flat tire. Yes, I knew it would probably come back to bite me.<br />
<br />
Still, I never imagined I would be changing a tire in my driveway with an audience. (Thanks for the commentary Tim and Jake!)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqxuERAyz-_SUKrkSL03XTJIrSnpa3MN_i7c0cH4SSirVruMwlJQGAohIoOkCUoEOsHd63a571yUqJljF6yhV5l_AmlWgJByqM1VqDrVvSAaMkSIZDjoFAbmR7iFubKsCrcrnNS6AsDk/s1600/415803_10151766939000004_540240003_23928458_1790891032_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqxuERAyz-_SUKrkSL03XTJIrSnpa3MN_i7c0cH4SSirVruMwlJQGAohIoOkCUoEOsHd63a571yUqJljF6yhV5l_AmlWgJByqM1VqDrVvSAaMkSIZDjoFAbmR7iFubKsCrcrnNS6AsDk/s320/415803_10151766939000004_540240003_23928458_1790891032_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I actually did it all myself. I jacked up the car, removed the old tire, and installed the spare. All while Tim and Jake drank their beers and took pictures.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57W4jEDd_FxqyA20WPueNdGq2cvK1EEvmiZI31i-d9FKWt8dAl4hWSrcnwMTw7L8cQqoVX3Vf3hQwKbDaS02dSC0zdyqv_rMIYooXkeZoUkkDcsbD_jjE6bB_7a5ttGMsxp43-GEDtzQ/s1600/2012-05-28_20.45.37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57W4jEDd_FxqyA20WPueNdGq2cvK1EEvmiZI31i-d9FKWt8dAl4hWSrcnwMTw7L8cQqoVX3Vf3hQwKbDaS02dSC0zdyqv_rMIYooXkeZoUkkDcsbD_jjE6bB_7a5ttGMsxp43-GEDtzQ/s320/2012-05-28_20.45.37.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm really glad I had the opportunity to learn how to do this in a safe environment with no kids screaming from the car or any place to be. Tim and Jake were actually helpful and didn't make a ton of fun of me. (Yes! The 4-way is a great tool! I'll remember that next time.)<br />
<br />
Hopefully this will be the last tire I have to change for a good long time.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-49955214630440758742012-05-30T11:55:00.000-05:002012-05-30T11:55:00.368-05:00Then and Now<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Brenden</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuKeeIOAdi2MaRazRvRgKj3ztB_2uYR2jX8j8G52zpKlAK8G0UUSK99XQMOjR0ftjdGZpSOb91c-aTsrfukYtmqpyZBpmQ8Q1Ke8ZoyjjTj5lPXgjuweYd17-x2-YRG6n0L3yw-YUAWk/s1600/258_508834450251_73003226_30753652_1341_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMuKeeIOAdi2MaRazRvRgKj3ztB_2uYR2jX8j8G52zpKlAK8G0UUSK99XQMOjR0ftjdGZpSOb91c-aTsrfukYtmqpyZBpmQ8Q1Ke8ZoyjjTj5lPXgjuweYd17-x2-YRG6n0L3yw-YUAWk/s320/258_508834450251_73003226_30753652_1341_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht37xlq4WIpxN9JAdzBK59QtCPhy_2PS-Mr-4Ptlsn6eCI23k_o6avqWw3JPXjSOCM1Z1LBbytihOFE5ysbIXtakFDT5ANP5UzB4Ef3hCXJjg4W3fWgQGZxXHynQ2Mi4JTUDBK0SOLuvA/s1600/4658_524270062161_73003226_31159377_1576080_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht37xlq4WIpxN9JAdzBK59QtCPhy_2PS-Mr-4Ptlsn6eCI23k_o6avqWw3JPXjSOCM1Z1LBbytihOFE5ysbIXtakFDT5ANP5UzB4Ef3hCXJjg4W3fWgQGZxXHynQ2Mi4JTUDBK0SOLuvA/s320/4658_524270062161_73003226_31159377_1576080_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2009</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1VYgPLZ2Tk9ZNhlIYlXNkMiE4q37uQpsxHmWDJQqMukB6TbUlwWJReWrXuhnJZyF1P4VkmjRg2GUMrSvqHMelJBvyC1-p6ok1rjYKX1Y4GIWUzjpgFZ-yeouPvPo4KtAlbsLxrhD_m0o/s1600/30313_541263038101_73003226_31802487_6057811_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1VYgPLZ2Tk9ZNhlIYlXNkMiE4q37uQpsxHmWDJQqMukB6TbUlwWJReWrXuhnJZyF1P4VkmjRg2GUMrSvqHMelJBvyC1-p6ok1rjYKX1Y4GIWUzjpgFZ-yeouPvPo4KtAlbsLxrhD_m0o/s320/30313_541263038101_73003226_31802487_6057811_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdbZ3Razj3uJuddOI-qD3TI0Firuj7N_sb3muAIaJnaSBzeaVGuOPOQAjdA6HlwEPVIyMBPv17JnwKXUWH_MJfZ5l540KdNYhkiux2TnfUj8ndjqeWGIiH-aeeGiz28FGt-fcAV0WkjM/s1600/250290_580210966141_73003226_32487296_7964456_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSdbZ3Razj3uJuddOI-qD3TI0Firuj7N_sb3muAIaJnaSBzeaVGuOPOQAjdA6HlwEPVIyMBPv17JnwKXUWH_MJfZ5l540KdNYhkiux2TnfUj8ndjqeWGIiH-aeeGiz28FGt-fcAV0WkjM/s320/250290_580210966141_73003226_32487296_7964456_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWO4VL8A0ESdYHxbbrcEEjCA8k645XpOWoLcqyrHmD2YPDo1RirCm-wEAdMzv2rlNjP3zCiWq2ZY5te5aZ39chJBIEgSknCZJZMNj_1TPcAU2pboj4ZH60Lk8Qqfx2tvRf9ttS0S4VRM/s1600/P1170140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWO4VL8A0ESdYHxbbrcEEjCA8k645XpOWoLcqyrHmD2YPDo1RirCm-wEAdMzv2rlNjP3zCiWq2ZY5te5aZ39chJBIEgSknCZJZMNj_1TPcAU2pboj4ZH60Lk8Qqfx2tvRf9ttS0S4VRM/s320/P1170140.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Lauren</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uC1tcXsMg3F4Q7mnpU6ASbQDMbgnDZVnPOv1DgGMp8rV9FLcGBkPLNVecG12rNBBUAF9jVthWKO62AeWeTGFdQ6ySM_XQ8fQvj4EJPZ-kETl_JF60Kk2dycqyNr0jAc1OXA-Vd645EM/s1600/30313_541263018141_73003226_31802483_959667_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uC1tcXsMg3F4Q7mnpU6ASbQDMbgnDZVnPOv1DgGMp8rV9FLcGBkPLNVecG12rNBBUAF9jVthWKO62AeWeTGFdQ6ySM_XQ8fQvj4EJPZ-kETl_JF60Kk2dycqyNr0jAc1OXA-Vd645EM/s320/30313_541263018141_73003226_31802483_959667_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2010</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY0O6QJzLDrLjH7xpaEPR2ATMHkwxpQwL3v88SFMB7q9Bq6rQylnD-tRxfUmPNm6gd6_WnAO5QAQmQ2wF5pFHpyYIuB_RFa8LhkA_FjOTpk60p7nOGQRK50q9GN-Y9nxsjRO3qF038L0/s1600/252664_580209923231_71201_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHY0O6QJzLDrLjH7xpaEPR2ATMHkwxpQwL3v88SFMB7q9Bq6rQylnD-tRxfUmPNm6gd6_WnAO5QAQmQ2wF5pFHpyYIuB_RFa8LhkA_FjOTpk60p7nOGQRK50q9GN-Y9nxsjRO3qF038L0/s320/252664_580209923231_71201_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2011</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhEerYiyrixlnTgGm9dvPAC4GqvdJTgZvcJYzHeXC3uYt-_hLawhXzFKmMCXeMBq6fSaBjkqjfnninD7vhynGVAaYk3PlkaLRx99BneurD2DM6aJM7gapxSo3j_RaTqgLYW6IPR2NoDk/s1600/P1170141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUhEerYiyrixlnTgGm9dvPAC4GqvdJTgZvcJYzHeXC3uYt-_hLawhXzFKmMCXeMBq6fSaBjkqjfnninD7vhynGVAaYk3PlkaLRx99BneurD2DM6aJM7gapxSo3j_RaTqgLYW6IPR2NoDk/s320/P1170141.JPG" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Family</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4hYegIphc3LHtLf3CcGNwkmQBrSH-Pso8eLJT0o_VGSFcvNbukfpHErN_WwWlyuAiLP3Njpis2THOq6lmFjVLPXlF_GI4Z_vEUOyPCSqvLvSDsBdVGV7-iUXYnBlhN-FJbmdrpqhrx4/s1600/258_508834400351_73003226_30753642_7829_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK4hYegIphc3LHtLf3CcGNwkmQBrSH-Pso8eLJT0o_VGSFcvNbukfpHErN_WwWlyuAiLP3Njpis2THOq6lmFjVLPXlF_GI4Z_vEUOyPCSqvLvSDsBdVGV7-iUXYnBlhN-FJbmdrpqhrx4/s320/258_508834400351_73003226_30753642_7829_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2008</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WtX0pmTPKtra0sDI1rMWE3L9xQ6tubu7qYQ_CP1vvdcqJPGHHNTCbA7T5BkhfyWD817YRystN3UNK-qeX9o70aos01sAs8ZBcvAjn0Ida9iSil2rlQKVud7STvc10yaGmZSXFgvuwOk/s1600/30313_541263023131_8059929_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4WtX0pmTPKtra0sDI1rMWE3L9xQ6tubu7qYQ_CP1vvdcqJPGHHNTCbA7T5BkhfyWD817YRystN3UNK-qeX9o70aos01sAs8ZBcvAjn0Ida9iSil2rlQKVud7STvc10yaGmZSXFgvuwOk/s320/30313_541263023131_8059929_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2010</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5T0VAQ-bePuaMcILT6-NRu7Up1Y26cwFtNs6sOt1paMF1Y8Op_du0PZgp3tjRCvfWvvFcZZbDZiQaVNM338wyNkYfLboOrrH9XYOldlhNib_G_Sne3c9yB2HhHA8c43wZBVDfP0llTY/s1600/P1170148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5T0VAQ-bePuaMcILT6-NRu7Up1Y26cwFtNs6sOt1paMF1Y8Op_du0PZgp3tjRCvfWvvFcZZbDZiQaVNM338wyNkYfLboOrrH9XYOldlhNib_G_Sne3c9yB2HhHA8c43wZBVDfP0llTY/s320/P1170148.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2012</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-11268675930019158172012-05-29T11:20:00.000-05:002012-05-29T11:20:45.990-05:00Memorial Day 2012Some highlights of our weekend:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Bubbles! Dirt! Football and baseball! Never a dull moment.</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjki43TkTZI71nejsUJgdOW8RXgYHp0U0SQlQz8p3d2mqUpTYuI5AzHFxgSwyxGkLxM4wQMt6OtgieOOuNQQ8WXmPtGRDwaRUd0q0oeSnc34n5y8PVhA9DwjjKRcIHr7CsS4z2D3vsOiA/s1600/P1170166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjki43TkTZI71nejsUJgdOW8RXgYHp0U0SQlQz8p3d2mqUpTYuI5AzHFxgSwyxGkLxM4wQMt6OtgieOOuNQQ8WXmPtGRDwaRUd0q0oeSnc34n5y8PVhA9DwjjKRcIHr7CsS4z2D3vsOiA/s320/P1170166.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<ul>
<li>A ton of yummy food, including a delicious 57th wedding anniversary cake (Gluten free!) made my the wonderful Bre. Congratulations Dan and Ginny!</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid089-TUhnQBJMzqbaw4CT2piamHPG81DybSiLAERpIco0ckTLvoCzjKW07FUSvAtn4Op3UwoYyztaarLomY0PM7Iljfh_znic3DCmsyLB5msH3Jv71jfPnF8om4I_eEbpxhJS8ZwgGFA/s1600/P1170178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid089-TUhnQBJMzqbaw4CT2piamHPG81DybSiLAERpIco0ckTLvoCzjKW07FUSvAtn4Op3UwoYyztaarLomY0PM7Iljfh_znic3DCmsyLB5msH3Jv71jfPnF8om4I_eEbpxhJS8ZwgGFA/s320/P1170178.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<ul>
<li>Brenden wasn't scared of the water at all this year. Big change! I think he jumped and climbed and jumped again at least 50 times. Definitely better than having to throw him back up onto the inner tube over and over and <i>over</i>. Lauren was obsessed with the jet ski, which was no surprise. She loves to drive and, combined with being on the water, she was in heaven. So glad to have 2 water babies!</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4rWB20dn3Pgpk1lDoJVI3QCjZNVi8z31zO-YadxSnKIPi89bWIq3o9RJl-h2zG3RUSWAQtjGpwqLI9hlHJlEqZrfaYB8cveIc6PsWf3go-s4GRo7U5XjjB4c9uUN0x39l-8bn5Qd-zA/s1600/P1170219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj4rWB20dn3Pgpk1lDoJVI3QCjZNVi8z31zO-YadxSnKIPi89bWIq3o9RJl-h2zG3RUSWAQtjGpwqLI9hlHJlEqZrfaYB8cveIc6PsWf3go-s4GRo7U5XjjB4c9uUN0x39l-8bn5Qd-zA/s320/P1170219.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>We finally figured out a way to get both kids to sleep, on the same bed, at the end of the day. You would think after an entire day of playing so very hard they would be exhausted and pass right out. Not the way these kids work! Although Lauren did curl up on Connie's lap the last night and a few minutes later was snoozing away.</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELk8AB-rD09wIOrpeZWYGjeS_yut-ERFWyirv2JAa5J5knln3vO2GsawebwBlCwvZidtBjG5MNhX7QKm2qQDfwu7W7oOoYrICkEBmWocci_OTKd4weWoUSNAPKfaw9UEepB5oMJl8xq0/s1600/P1170227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiELk8AB-rD09wIOrpeZWYGjeS_yut-ERFWyirv2JAa5J5knln3vO2GsawebwBlCwvZidtBjG5MNhX7QKm2qQDfwu7W7oOoYrICkEBmWocci_OTKd4weWoUSNAPKfaw9UEepB5oMJl8xq0/s320/P1170227.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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And, for comparison, Memorial Day <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorial-day-2009.html">2009</a>, <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2010/06/memorial-day-2010.html">2010</a> and <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/05/memorial-day-weekend.html">2011</a>.<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-68282431364810052752012-05-25T10:33:00.000-05:002012-05-25T10:33:28.773-05:00First Fishing Trip!When I married into the Kelly family, I knew I was marrying into a family that liked to fish. Based on trips I had in high school, I was not a fan. After several trips I can officially say I've been convinced that it's not that bad. Ha!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEeMLH2uIChFg7P5O7tyBBppUMUwbaSdQAnZYii5uFrSaXKVilsOUwelVdOw_HP7edLJgUwDJi0XPj9M5Frh9pFtU5FRfQYhl1-qEXrCKkEEE2Q6RCkPIWTemIIcugfY1rRR5sRo53rBA/s1600/330_511545602081_73003226_30869437_9862_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEeMLH2uIChFg7P5O7tyBBppUMUwbaSdQAnZYii5uFrSaXKVilsOUwelVdOw_HP7edLJgUwDJi0XPj9M5Frh9pFtU5FRfQYhl1-qEXrCKkEEE2Q6RCkPIWTemIIcugfY1rRR5sRo53rBA/s320/330_511545602081_73003226_30869437_9862_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">My 22 pounder! I held the record for a little while. :)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Brenden has been fishing since he was still in my belly. He must have realized that he would live on the water on the weekend during the summer because he <i>loves </i>it. For the last few years he's been "fishing" in his grandpa's bait tank in the garage, off the dock, or in small ponds. Today, he got to join in on a real, big guys fishing trip. It was obvious he was excited when, awoken at 5 am, he said, "Thank you, daddy!" and ran off to get ready.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVPGMaaeY81z1V1WqcBHMrJnrc3J-aA_MMRHWBWfTr1VGA-vPyqFRbDy7ig6bmtR4dInAHwMXBlFUGH4u8_4nn39IpVp__tOJJlD6tj7qRuGLhu8CH2E890tb-qRATN6Si4lCj_9sL8s/s1600/79_504824131961_73003226_30465971_9055_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzVPGMaaeY81z1V1WqcBHMrJnrc3J-aA_MMRHWBWfTr1VGA-vPyqFRbDy7ig6bmtR4dInAHwMXBlFUGH4u8_4nn39IpVp__tOJJlD6tj7qRuGLhu8CH2E890tb-qRATN6Si4lCj_9sL8s/s320/79_504824131961_73003226_30465971_9055_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">7 1/2 months pregnant. -2007-</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NjqSM2sfMYiGPOxagoFwuzxgPDDCzbV6mRxUyguYcrfUNQDGNGWDoT-0ecXXDxUJLWuugLJ5uT2muQ1P83om0wC6Aanq5BEYMnOtIggAJCBTVqiI7sp44zbV3DkHbxGPaUy3Ml4hKns/s1600/225881_576148153051_73003226_32429094_6254989_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NjqSM2sfMYiGPOxagoFwuzxgPDDCzbV6mRxUyguYcrfUNQDGNGWDoT-0ecXXDxUJLWuugLJ5uT2muQ1P83om0wC6Aanq5BEYMnOtIggAJCBTVqiI7sp44zbV3DkHbxGPaUy3Ml4hKns/s320/225881_576148153051_73003226_32429094_6254989_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">First, very tiny, fish from a pond. -2011-</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4NNnUCldB3b3GAbAr0xMzbUYW4mIMBQoTRzrrflkFQF9QfZ6nGXIAIQDtrM4uOyu2c5Xw3Aaw1cGpsEHB6Rp39by1Yo3LglEaSj9fhdh3tTEo9shKuCm78NRnDHSHGPz7e3dzoB0ANY/s1600/226339_576148277801_917400_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4NNnUCldB3b3GAbAr0xMzbUYW4mIMBQoTRzrrflkFQF9QfZ6nGXIAIQDtrM4uOyu2c5Xw3Aaw1cGpsEHB6Rp39by1Yo3LglEaSj9fhdh3tTEo9shKuCm78NRnDHSHGPz7e3dzoB0ANY/s320/226339_576148277801_917400_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Fishing with grandpa is the best! -2011-</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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From the few pictures I've seen, I think he's having a blast.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMizEBM9jLeRpkSvyIHZni-8LQVGK_dEJF-3jHN-B1GK6y6HPDmBFr7dHGwSshBk8UHezpSS1goziGGdWzbL-4bf52Kh5w1Qs_VA3HWdNSmRylced_Mgd0rn_ovUwbKQ484yKD1yilyu0/s1600/464904_10151753832140004_1853767241_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMizEBM9jLeRpkSvyIHZni-8LQVGK_dEJF-3jHN-B1GK6y6HPDmBFr7dHGwSshBk8UHezpSS1goziGGdWzbL-4bf52Kh5w1Qs_VA3HWdNSmRylced_Mgd0rn_ovUwbKQ484yKD1yilyu0/s320/464904_10151753832140004_1853767241_o.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ready to go!</span> </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfbJ7AlYJLY6AxnTg_qZHnoPsafhQDdFHMFGXu8nnYc7A5UQ9-COGO63CmxCobX33B7a7-E7UYoL4xcAnyPcDOa-H_BMyhXUqfbvSVKVM2M9S1E0f3xET9Qnzv8vjVmnElV347ANzdIc/s1600/465222_10151754238210004_540240003_23871849_1060504018_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfbJ7AlYJLY6AxnTg_qZHnoPsafhQDdFHMFGXu8nnYc7A5UQ9-COGO63CmxCobX33B7a7-E7UYoL4xcAnyPcDOa-H_BMyhXUqfbvSVKVM2M9S1E0f3xET9Qnzv8vjVmnElV347ANzdIc/s320/465222_10151754238210004_540240003_23871849_1060504018_o.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Good job, Brenden!!!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I'm so excited he gets to share this time with his dad and grandpa. (And Jake!) I can't wait to go fishing with him, soon!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-26817145061979039942012-05-23T22:20:00.000-05:002012-05-23T22:20:18.490-05:00Last Day of School!I cannot believe that we made it through our first entire year of preschool with the kids. Last year Brenden only went half a year so this was new for all of us. I knew I would be weepy their first day, but I never knew I would be so emotional on the last day. Yes, I am nervous about this summer and how to keep them entertained. More than that, I'm sad that next year they will be at a new school with new teachers. <a href="http://www.bacoc.org/page.cfm/ministries/kid-s-kare">Kids Kare</a> really is awesome and I would highly recommend it to anyone.<br />
<br />
Brenden has grown so much, physically, emotionally and mentally, since last <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/09/preschool-year-two.html">September</a>. He can now spell his name, my name, his dad's name, and several other words. He's starting to read and just the other day read three pages by himself. He's working hard on his penmanship and, with my help with spelling, can write just about anything. He knows simple addition and subtraction, sign language, can use scissors well and colors (mostly) in the lines.<br />
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We're so very proud of him and cannot wait to see what next year brings! This boy is read for pre-k.<br />
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Lauren is a completely different child than the one I dropped off <a href="http://ok-state-kellys.blogspot.com/2011/09/laurens-first-day.html">last year</a>. Gone are the days of screaming and grasping at me when I drop her at the door. Her teacher, Ms. Kim, is one of her most favorite people and we hope to keep in touch for a long time. She has always been a talker, but her language has literally exploded. We have entire conversations with her and she love to argue, which makes me very nervous for the coming years. She can recognize letters, numbers, shapes, colors and is able to count groups of objects by herself. She loves to sing, usually loudly, and had a blast on stage for their end of the year performance.<br />
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She has grown up so much and I'm so excited to watch her continue to learn!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxrtNpU8QjdYkighOykEODilFfoTKOAbIEEIC8jb1seuc5Cgq9rZRNoo9yrK4atD6-MTZ9xz1w1ci8gmpNpoSh7HkMKhEkQtd6xA09bgdloZkMf8AQNm7fZ-YvQYyh5Ly2swaliuuhgY/s1600/lauren+last+day+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxrtNpU8QjdYkighOykEODilFfoTKOAbIEEIC8jb1seuc5Cgq9rZRNoo9yrK4atD6-MTZ9xz1w1ci8gmpNpoSh7HkMKhEkQtd6xA09bgdloZkMf8AQNm7fZ-YvQYyh5Ly2swaliuuhgY/s320/lauren+last+day+2012.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>
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My babies, they are growing up way too fast!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-81744697206154583292012-05-19T10:06:00.000-05:002012-05-19T10:06:00.611-05:00TattletaleThe neighborhood we live in is one big circle, closed in by a gate at the front. Somehow, we have 4 different streets in this small third of a mile length of road. It seems to me it would be easier to just make it one big circle or court, but that has nothing to do with this story.<br />
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When we first looked at this neighborhood it was no where near complete. There were empty lots and long strips of land with no sidewalks. Since then, which was just August 2011, a new house has been started almost every single month. Which means lots of construction, lots of large trucks and loud noises, and an audience if I decide to mow the yard. (Which also has nothing to do with this story, but is still extremely annoying. If I wanted to be stared at while sweating I'd go to a gym...or a pool.)<br />
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For reference:<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIXPROlqedIkd654JJAxuJQV3ym7gwOvTvMHm01_JSfwVj0vWLGJVuTmTI93PPaB32kOYiNFfoBO9RV6lq0X_sUbzCdioY1hIorE2r0FftGEpj4MWCRXcQ7c8VK05HtCRFK1SnupXpkU/s1600/283548_592706180631_73003226_32635562_6568719_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIXPROlqedIkd654JJAxuJQV3ym7gwOvTvMHm01_JSfwVj0vWLGJVuTmTI93PPaB32kOYiNFfoBO9RV6lq0X_sUbzCdioY1hIorE2r0FftGEpj4MWCRXcQ7c8VK05HtCRFK1SnupXpkU/s320/283548_592706180631_73003226_32635562_6568719_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The weekend we bought our land.</span></td></tr>
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(Please forgive my blurry pictures. I'm not the best with photoshop, which I don't even own.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpTDWApLaVwTMwQ-nc_WHgFQJkQsmjz9xFLjIJuUV-3uJyiCza5sy4o13zLO1fMjlgEG7NVngF6u8u6r8dIDFwtkctrH1zILvCnmmd2DqG3D5p-MTvxTza1cHiBQsnrFDJ3OLz0vJBHw/s1600/2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpTDWApLaVwTMwQ-nc_WHgFQJkQsmjz9xFLjIJuUV-3uJyiCza5sy4o13zLO1fMjlgEG7NVngF6u8u6r8dIDFwtkctrH1zILvCnmmd2DqG3D5p-MTvxTza1cHiBQsnrFDJ3OLz0vJBHw/s1600/2011.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">2011<br />The red X is our land.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAv3Uh6pnjnme-ChdHiqzkBwRQBSQR8VY8z7t1UU1OIPrrj0Io7N-PL0wIu9FEGAa_AbEikXFWJP9WaTAmxuCIkX7jF0tzZ4CB-K2eTOgwC6q1v4pAwobH5zTfGbf1Hlk3KBCc0l53Nk/s1600/2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdAv3Uh6pnjnme-ChdHiqzkBwRQBSQR8VY8z7t1UU1OIPrrj0Io7N-PL0wIu9FEGAa_AbEikXFWJP9WaTAmxuCIkX7jF0tzZ4CB-K2eTOgwC6q1v4pAwobH5zTfGbf1Hlk3KBCc0l53Nk/s1600/2012.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">2012<br />What a difference!</span></td></tr>
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So all of that setup is to tell a funny story about Brenden. His friends from across the street often play in the yard next door, which is a house that is almost completed. I don't let the kids play over there in case there are any nails or other construction debris that could be harmful. I know that makes me over protective and helicopter parent-ish, and even a little bit selfish since it's only because I don't want to have to deal with the insanity of taking a child to the ER on the off chance that they do get hurt. It's a constant fight that I will be very happy to end when the new family moves in.<br />
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We were driving home from school and Brenden was drilling me, as usual, about what he was allowed to do when we got home. "Can I go outside?" "Can I ride my bike?" "Can I play with Grant and Conor?" "Can I play in the front yard?" "Can I play in the dirt?"<br />
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That last question is what started our entire debate. He would ask if he could play in the dirt, I would repeat that no, I did not want him stepping on a nail or getting hurt. He would cry and whine and flail and then ask again. Repeat for what felt like hours. Finally, he decided he was done with the conversation and said,<br />
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"You're mean! You're not my mommy anymore! I'm gonna live with GRANDMA!"<br />
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I couldn't help it...I laughed. He said it with such force and he <i>meant </i>it. He glared at me from the backseat and I could see his brain working to decide what to say next. Finally, he made his decision.<br />
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"I'm gonna live with grandma Ginger. You're mean! I'm gonna TELL YOUR MOM!"<br />
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Yes, he threatened to tell my mom on me. You can imagine the look I got when I busted out laughing again. I'm totally against laughing at my kids when they are upset, or whining at them when they are whining, but I just couldn't help it.<br />
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And mom, if you're reading this, thanks for telling Brenden you supported my decision. I think he forgave us. :)<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319054662430833670.post-14170973463192074412012-05-15T13:50:00.000-05:002012-05-15T13:50:15.614-05:00Number 10, Brenden Kelly!!!A small taste of things to come?? :)<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54486/348/D431A0F3D50AF2F8E958010267D4706F.png" style="background: transparent; border: none;" /></a>The Kellyshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01087189553147759933noreply@blogger.com0