<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150</id><updated>2011-07-08T02:11:54.172-07:00</updated><category term='Alexanders shining moments'/><title type='text'>world of warcraft widow</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-4992712499317501364</id><published>2010-01-05T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T11:18:48.235-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexanders shining moments'/><title type='text'>Smart little Goobey</title><content type='html'>So I thought I should write this down before I forget.  Yesterday morning after getting our oldest on the school bus we had several &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;errands&lt;/span&gt; to run. On the road &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobey&lt;/span&gt; asks" where are we going?" in a very irritated voice. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;respond&lt;/span&gt; with " to the moon". He looks up and says "we need a rocket ship to go to the moon mommy".  He was very serious when he said this. I thought it was too cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-4992712499317501364?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/4992712499317501364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=4992712499317501364' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/4992712499317501364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/4992712499317501364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2010/01/smart-little-goobey.html' title='Smart little Goobey'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-7633963592362240932</id><published>2009-12-16T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T13:47:21.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dads Christmas present</title><content type='html'>This last Saturday my hubby had to work so I thought it would be a good opportunity to take the kids Christmas shopping for him. So at 7:15am we head out to Walmart to look for the perfect present. &lt;br /&gt;While we were walking in to the store I remind them that we are looking for Dads present.  Gooby proceeds to say he wants to get dad a light saber.  I explain that dad doesn't want a light saber and we need to find something that he likes.  While we are in the toy department looking around Gooby then decides he wants to get him a Star Wars Lego ship.  I tell him again that we are looking for something for dad. &lt;br /&gt;So off we go to the movie and game section.  After repeating for about the 100th time that he wants to get daddy a Star Wars Lego ship I tell him firmly no.  Open the flood gates to tears and sobbing.  You would of thought I told him Santa wasn't real.  So there in Walmarts movie department I hug him and tell him that daddy doesn't want a ship and that we need to think of someone else besides our selves. &lt;br /&gt;It really hard to teach little ones not to be selfish.  Tis the season!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-7633963592362240932?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/7633963592362240932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=7633963592362240932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/7633963592362240932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/7633963592362240932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/12/dads-christmas-present.html' title='Dads Christmas present'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-4283247543293926972</id><published>2009-12-09T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T19:25:00.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My 4 year olds ideal present for me</title><content type='html'>So the other day &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Gooby&lt;/span&gt; says to me" Do I get to get you a present for Christmas?"  I tell him sure and right before I tell him some ideas he continues with his thought" Do you like Princess Leia? Oh good I am going to get you something with Princess Leia maybe a Star Wars movie with it.  Oh yea that will be a good present".&lt;br /&gt;So I just smile and laugh inside and pray to Santa not to bring ME any more &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fricken&lt;/span&gt; Star Wars stuff.  It's &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; for my kiddos but I am good thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-4283247543293926972?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/4283247543293926972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=4283247543293926972' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/4283247543293926972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/4283247543293926972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-4-year-olds-ideal-present-for-me.html' title='My 4 year olds ideal present for me'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-4982306451474148330</id><published>2009-12-09T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T19:21:20.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My 6 year olds ideal present for me</title><content type='html'>Let me preface this post with this: my six year old is WAY too much like me.&lt;br /&gt;So a few weeks ago my sweet little six year old says to me"Mom, I know what I am going to ask Santa to get you for Christmas, a robot to do the laundry, clean the house and make breakfast ON TIME".  I laugh and tell him, "Hunny that is called a maid and Santa can't afford a maid for our house".  I think he had good intentions.  Maybe if I am really good this year Santa will bring me a maid.  Or according to my husband really naughty, ha, ha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-4982306451474148330?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/4982306451474148330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=4982306451474148330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/4982306451474148330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/4982306451474148330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-6-year-olds-ideal-present-for-me.html' title='My 6 year olds ideal present for me'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-837215111804466315</id><published>2009-12-09T19:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T19:16:41.278-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Little Vicks</title><content type='html'>So my sweet little 6 month old is officially crawling and sitting up.  She has been pulling herself around for the last 6 weeks but she is officically onto crawling.  We looked over at her the other day and she was sitting up.  The time has flown by.  I can't believe she is already crawling and she is eating pretty well too.  Now only if I can get her to stay in her bed at night.  Since our trip she has ended up in our bed every night except one.  I am too lazy to rock her in the loft so I just hold her in our nice warm bed.  The only problem with this is I wake up grouchier than ever and that doesn't work to well with my first grader.  So some tough love was had today at nap time and she got to figure going to sleep all by herself.  Hopefully tonight will be better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-837215111804466315?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/837215111804466315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=837215111804466315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/837215111804466315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/837215111804466315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/12/sweet-little-vicks.html' title='Sweet Little Vicks'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-8310855302528858808</id><published>2009-11-21T21:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T21:49:16.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Utah here we come</title><content type='html'>Today we leave for Utah to my oldest sisters house for Thanksgiving. Yesterday at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Walmart&lt;/span&gt; I spent $80 on treats and toys for the kids for the long drive up. I am very excited because my sister who lives in Virginia is coming with her little boy and my brother will also be there. I love going to my sisters house. It is so relaxing and all of our kids get along, well &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; most of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister's youngest is &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobeys&lt;/span&gt; age. When I visited for two weeks in September they didn't get along. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobey&lt;/span&gt; tends to cry about &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;everything&lt;/span&gt; and her youngest likes to hear him cry. Although they did finally start to like each other at the end. We &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;caught&lt;/span&gt; them riding the snow sled down the basement stairs. It was quite funny to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we will see what funny stories I have to offer after this trip. We have lots of exciting things planned so I should get some good material.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-8310855302528858808?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/8310855302528858808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=8310855302528858808' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8310855302528858808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8310855302528858808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/utah-here-we-come.html' title='Utah here we come'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-1470060248964013129</id><published>2009-11-21T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T19:15:00.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet little Vicks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/SwRnIgDxDII/AAAAAAAAAAc/EJ45COBSGj4/s1600/DSC00592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405558848493784194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/SwRnIgDxDII/AAAAAAAAAAc/EJ45COBSGj4/s200/DSC00592.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sweet little Vicks is now 5 months old. I can't believe how fast this has gone by. She is rolling and army crawling all over the place. I just love how much joy and laughter she brings into our home. About a two months ago she started growling at us. I mean like a dead animal sound or a jaguar meets a moose growl. We would growl and she would growl back. I guess that should be expected with two older brothers growling at you EVERY time they see you. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One afternoon we were at my sister in laws letting the kiddos play in the back yard so we would have some peace. It was a beautiful afternoon so she had the door open and her dog was kind of hanging out by it. We were casually talking about life when she says " What is that noise?" I didn't know what she was talking about so we continued to talk. Then she says" there it is again, is that Molly( their dog)"? I start to laugh and proclaim like a proud mother that it is my sweet little V. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sister in law starts to laugh so hard I thought she was going to bust a gut. After the laughter dies down she states" I have never heard anything like that before". So my sweet little V, making a name for yourself already. Hopefully you don't follow in Goobeys foot steps. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-1470060248964013129?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/1470060248964013129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=1470060248964013129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/1470060248964013129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/1470060248964013129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/sweet-little-vicks.html' title='Sweet little Vicks'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/SwRnIgDxDII/AAAAAAAAAAc/EJ45COBSGj4/s72-c/DSC00592.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-6930176505840024505</id><published>2009-11-21T06:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T06:39:19.818-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A little something about me</title><content type='html'>So I thought since I was telling you so much about my kiddos maybe I should let you in on a little bit about me.  I love pajamas.  I always wear pajamas to bed no matter how tired I am and I always wear clean ones.  I have this strange issue with wearing "old" pajamas.  I love the smell of detergent right before I go to sleep.  So you are wondering she either a:washes &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;laundry&lt;/span&gt; a lot or b: has a lot of pajamas.  The answer actually is both.  With four kids I am &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;averaging&lt;/span&gt; a load a day, sometimes two.  Now you know one of my little quirks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-6930176505840024505?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/6930176505840024505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=6930176505840024505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/6930176505840024505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/6930176505840024505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/little-something-about-me.html' title='A little something about me'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-7297937683891532697</id><published>2009-11-20T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T15:07:00.443-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday(What used to be my favorite day of the week)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;Do you remember when Friday was your favorite day of the week? The school week was over, the work week would end and in theory have a lovely weekend. This is how my Friday went.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Went to bed at 12:30 am(having stomach pains from too much &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Mexican&lt;/span&gt; food)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Baby decides her stomach hurts too and is up six times from 12:30 to 6 am&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;7:30-decide to take the kids to Quick Trip for donuts(and my diet &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Dr&lt;/span&gt; pepper)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Visiting&lt;/span&gt; teachers at 9&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sweet E drinks almost an entire bottle of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;children's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ibuprofen&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Call poison control&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Take a shower &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Drop my kids off at the sitters &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Drop my car off to have tires rotated and balanced&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Have a great lunch with all of my sister in laws for my mother in laws birthday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Pick my kids up from the sitters&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Change a diaper that smells like rancid grape &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;ibuprofen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Change a baby diaper that smells like squash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Think about what I don't want to make for dinner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Start to prepare something I don't want to eat for dinner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get the kids ready for bed and then have the night off&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go to bed dreaming of all of the Glorious things my kids will be doing tomorrow&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-7297937683891532697?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/7297937683891532697/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=7297937683891532697' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/7297937683891532697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/7297937683891532697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/fridaywhat-used-to-be-my-favorite-day.html' title='Friday(What used to be my favorite day of the week)'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-5702119412816672566</id><published>2009-11-19T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T12:52:00.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What my kids have to have to sleep at night</title><content type='html'>So I was telling someone the other day what my kids had in their beds and they thought it was funny so here it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My oldest son-6: his library book on the night stand, whatever little toy he has been playing shooting with and his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;purple&lt;/span&gt; blanket grandma made him&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobey&lt;/span&gt;-4: &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Alligator&lt;/span&gt; blanket, red light saber, Max and Ruby and his latest favorite Star Wars magazine Auntie J gave him for his B-day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sweet E-2: Every stuffed animal she can find, between 4 and 6 books and her blankets&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Baby&lt;/span&gt; V-5 months: she thankfully doesn't have anything yet except her pacifier&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So I think that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobeys&lt;/span&gt; probably is the silliest but we have had &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;countless&lt;/span&gt; nights were we are running around the house looking for that stupid light saber. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-5702119412816672566?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/5702119412816672566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=5702119412816672566' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/5702119412816672566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/5702119412816672566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-my-kids-have-to-have-to-sleep-at.html' title='What my kids have to have to sleep at night'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-7110546137004807524</id><published>2009-11-18T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T12:51:49.947-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexanders shining moments'/><title type='text'>My multi colored toilet</title><content type='html'>So this incident with &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobey&lt;/span&gt; actually made me quite upset. I still am NOT laughing nor think that it's funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So everyone who lives in Arizona knows that it is hotter than a mother in the summer, so most mothers give in to their children eating &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Popsicles&lt;/span&gt;. They are low in calories and the kids love them. Well, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Goobey&lt;/span&gt; has an obsession with them. This last summer we would catch him sneaking downstairs(over the gate and pulling a chair up to the fridge) to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;retrieve&lt;/span&gt; this beloved treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day we were all sitting &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;downstairs&lt;/span&gt; in the evening enjoying a movie and my sweet 2 year old comes out of the downstairs bathroom with a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Popsicle&lt;/span&gt; stick.  I tell her to throw it away and she does.  Then she comes out again and again each time with another &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Popsicle&lt;/span&gt; stick.  After about the fifth stick I decide to get off my lazy buns and see what is going on in the bathroom. &lt;br /&gt;To my dismay there is an entire box of 36 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Popsicles&lt;/span&gt; sitting on top of the toilet lid.  Let me say that it was brand new as of that morning. &lt;br /&gt;They all had melted and were all over the toilet, floor and rug.  I started screaming.  He knew he was in trouble because he went running.  To this day the toilet lid is still multi colored.  Every time I gotta go I think of him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-7110546137004807524?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/7110546137004807524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=7110546137004807524' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/7110546137004807524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/7110546137004807524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-multi-colored-toilet.html' title='My multi colored toilet'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-8945482788102106975</id><published>2009-11-13T22:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T19:17:51.864-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexanders shining moments'/><title type='text'>Silly Gooby</title><content type='html'>So my 2nd little boy seems to quite the mischievous little devil. My mother in law said I should make a blog just for him so I think I will post as I can remember. I call him Gooby so for all intensive purposes that is what he will known in the blogger world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my fondest adventures was when Gooby discovered how to unlock the refrigerator lock. When he was almost three he comes up stairs and is so proud to show me the eggs that he had in his hands. I immediately run down stairs to no mess in the kitchen. I open the fridge and it is clean. I then open up the egg carton to find no eggs inside. Now I knew that this was a brand new carton of eggs and he had only brought two upstairs to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look in the fridge and in the sink and can't find them anywhere. Baffled I went into the laundry room to look for the missing eggs and find dry spaghetti noodles on the floor instead, right in front of the washing machine. Not really thinking about it I open the washing machine to find my ten missing eggs and a pound of dry spaghetti noodles. Thank goodness there was not a load of laundry in there. I could only laugh and pulled out all of the dry noodles and eggs shells and ran an empty load to clean it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I asked him about it he just said he was cooking. Oh, my sweet little Gooby. Just remembering this story and the sweet innocent look he had on his face makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now just to make this clear. We DO NOT cook in the washing machine. That was all him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-8945482788102106975?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/8945482788102106975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=8945482788102106975' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8945482788102106975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8945482788102106975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/silly-gooby.html' title='Silly Gooby'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-8166431799197764858</id><published>2009-11-12T21:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T22:16:18.866-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexanders shining moments'/><title type='text'>My sweet little Goobey</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So I know that it seems like I have been posting a lot about my little Goobey but he keeps things funny( just like his dad). For Veterans day our oldest had school off so we decided to have a family breakfast out. We all are sitting down when the waitress comes to take our orders. I order &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/Svz5Yo5W02I/AAAAAAAAAAU/w1l4tUsivcc/s1600-h/DSC00392.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 145px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403467854627918690" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/Svz5Yo5W02I/AAAAAAAAAAU/w1l4tUsivcc/s200/DSC00392.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for the kids and in the middle of ordering we hear a loud "pop". I look up and Goobey has something white all over his face and all over the cushion by him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rick and I look at each other and look at him and are kind of confused. Then it pops into my head. I ask "Did he squeeze a creamer?" We all start to laugh and then I realize that Goobey isn't looking up at me. He has his head down and eyes closed. This somewhat concerns me and I wonder if he has any in his eyes. I ask him and he looks up at me with his eyes still closed with creamer ALL over his face. We were all laughing so hard including the waitress. Never a dull moment with our crew. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-8166431799197764858?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/8166431799197764858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=8166431799197764858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8166431799197764858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8166431799197764858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/my-sweet-little-goobey.html' title='My sweet little Goobey'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/Svz5Yo5W02I/AAAAAAAAAAU/w1l4tUsivcc/s72-c/DSC00392.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-2106017026044014273</id><published>2009-11-10T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T18:15:00.142-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Alexanders shining moments'/><title type='text'>Dear Darth Vader</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/SvoeCV9Z_uI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wM0jZa10gl8/s1600-h/star-wars-episode3-darth-vader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402663728587603682" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/SvoeCV9Z_uI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wM0jZa10gl8/s200/star-wars-episode3-darth-vader.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I thought of another funny moment with Gooby. Let me preface this entry with this, Gooby is TOTALLY obsessed with Star Wars. Darth Vader and Darth Maul and any other bad guys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So one night at the dinner prayer, it was Goobys turn to say the prayer. This is how it went: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Darth Vader, thankful for food, bless it, in the name of in the name of General Grievous Amen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As soon as he said the first part, Rick and I looked at each other and started to smile. Then when he closed with General Grievous we couldn't help but to laugh. So trying to be good parents we explained that we don't pray to anyone but Heavenly Father and we only close with Jesus Christ. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fast forward to the next evenings dinner prayer. Gooby insists that he pray again and this is how it went:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear Heavenly Father, thankful for food, bless it, in the name of Darth Maul Amen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;George Lucas would be proud. A three year old worshiping his characters. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-2106017026044014273?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/2106017026044014273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=2106017026044014273' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/2106017026044014273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/2106017026044014273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/dear-darth-vader.html' title='Dear Darth Vader'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_J-Mb6iYLplU/SvoeCV9Z_uI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wM0jZa10gl8/s72-c/star-wars-episode3-darth-vader.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-8316664159990215711</id><published>2009-11-09T21:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T22:06:04.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gotta love Costco</title><content type='html'>So on Saturday I informed Rick that we needed toilet paper and asked if he wanted to go to Costco to get some.  He &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;obliges&lt;/span&gt; and we take the family to Costco to get toilet paper.  This is what we ended up with:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheesecake&lt;br /&gt;Crab cakes&lt;br /&gt;Chocolate peppermint bark(&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; good)&lt;br /&gt;Sushi rolls&lt;br /&gt;Orange chicken&lt;br /&gt;Zip lock baggies&lt;br /&gt; and last but not least&lt;br /&gt;Toilet paper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if this ever happens to your family but this ALWAYS happens to us.  We go in for one or two things and when the total is over $100 we just kind of look at each other and shrug. &lt;br /&gt;I guess this is why Rick hates going to Costco.  We never can get out of there for under $100. &lt;br /&gt;And everyone says that we are in a recesion but Costco is still as busy as ever, I wonder how their stock is holding up.  I just might have to look into that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the next time we go to Costco I think it will just be me, we always tend to buy more when we have all of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-8316664159990215711?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/8316664159990215711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=8316664159990215711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8316664159990215711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/8316664159990215711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/gotta-love-costco.html' title='Gotta love Costco'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-1087769532772712204</id><published>2009-11-08T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T18:06:48.616-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The longest day of the week</title><content type='html'>For some reason Sundays seem to be the longest days of the week. I don't know if it is because we wrestle with four kids at church or that we are with all four kids all day long. All I know is that when 7 pm rolls around on Sunday nights Rick and I have pretty much no t0lerance for our children. Not that we don't love them because we do immensely but sometimes they just drive us nuts.&lt;br /&gt;For instance, last week one night we were reading family scriptures and there was a picture of Christ teaching people after he had been resurrected that fell out of the book. Evelyn quickly snatched the picture and says " Jesus". I say good job and go about telling them stories that are on the back of the picture. That night she goes to bed with it and she informs me that the man in the picture is now " My Jesus".&lt;br /&gt;The next morning she comes out of her room with the picture in hand and carries it pretty much every where she goes. This obviously is too much for Alexander and he must have his turn holding the picture. He decided to take the picture and when Evelyn figures out he has it she exclaims " My Jesus". He then yells back " My Jesus". They continue this little banter for a few seconds before I brake in. I try to explain that he is actually all of our "Jesus" but that wasn't good enough for Evelyn. You gotta love a 2 year old.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-1087769532772712204?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/1087769532772712204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=1087769532772712204' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/1087769532772712204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/1087769532772712204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/longest-day-of-week.html' title='The longest day of the week'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5194049977976411150.post-6076121062831409128</id><published>2009-11-04T19:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-04T19:14:54.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So I am finally getting this over with!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So after much debate in my home over my chosen title for my blog, my dear husband has conceded to defeat and allowed me to use this title.  Now don't get me wrong, I knew that my hubby liked gaming from when we first met over 12 years ago.  But in the summer of '05 he discovered WOW(World of Warcraft).  Now those of you who know someone who plays WOW know that they will be on for HOURS!!!  Some nights are better than others but I can officially say that he doesn't get on the computer until after the kids are in bed.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I am going to try to use this blog to keep better track of all of my children's many memories.  Sometimes I just can't remember events and it just kills me, so this is my shameless excuse for a journal.  So hopefully I will be able to get some good stuff on record and make you laugh too.  There is never a dull or boring moment in our house.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5194049977976411150-6076121062831409128?l=worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/feeds/6076121062831409128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5194049977976411150&amp;postID=6076121062831409128' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/6076121062831409128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5194049977976411150/posts/default/6076121062831409128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://worldofwarcraftwidow2.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-am-finally-getting-this-over-with.html' title='So I am finally getting this over with!'/><author><name>Cassandra</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10671897432198202188</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
