<?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-1262252949307731195</id><updated>2012-02-06T13:37:14.819-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rudegeairs</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>117</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6527283538280677649</id><published>2012-02-06T13:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-06T13:37:14.825-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Venture</title><content type='html'>Because kids are expensive, and I have 3 of 'em, I have started a new business venture. The link to my website for said venture is &lt;a href="http://www.mythirtyone.com/DominiqueRudegeair/"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;Give it a look-see. I'm new and don't know what the heck I'm doing, but I'm super chatty and pretty darn friendly, so I think I can make this work. So, long story short, have a look and schedule a party, okay? *mwah!*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6527283538280677649?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6527283538280677649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/02/new-venture.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6527283538280677649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6527283538280677649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/02/new-venture.html' title='New Venture'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2429240600963889238</id><published>2012-02-03T12:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-03T12:41:11.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Randomness</title><content type='html'>- I talked to my best girlfriend, Carla, today. It made my day. I miss her a lot. All the states between Florida and Pennsylvania need to get out of the way so we're closer to each other. My heart hurts going so long without seeing her. Dang it, now I'm sad. Back to happy! I had a really nice talk with her today, and she's still my bestest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Carl IV has a birthday coming up. He'll be 5. I'm having trouble coming to terms with this. I just don't feel old enough to have a 5 year old. I must've counted wrong...1,2,3,4...crap. Nope, he's 5. And I'm getting old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I've decided it's time for me to start running again because, as much as I hate to admit it, I actually &lt;em&gt;do &lt;/em&gt;feel better when I exercise. Dang it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 3 kids = a lot of kids. Really. They've figured out that they outnumber us and are using it to their advantage. I am a little worried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Teaghan is thisclose to sleeping through the night. I am soooo ready for uninterrupted sleep again. I miss it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I'm going to a purse party tonight (sort of like a Tupperware party, but with purses). I'm going to try my hardest not to spend bajillions of dollars. I love purses. Like, a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I am so tired that I can't come up with much more to say. The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2429240600963889238?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2429240600963889238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/02/friday-randomness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2429240600963889238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2429240600963889238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/02/friday-randomness.html' title='Friday Randomness'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2131240627904818233</id><published>2012-01-30T09:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-30T09:09:53.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Morning Playlist</title><content type='html'>Every weekday morning the kids and I pile into the car and head to my mother-in-law's house around 8:00 am. Every morning, without fail, once we're in the car the first words out of the boy's mouth are: "Mom, can we listen to the robot song?" He has renamed Daft Punk's song &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/iPVczV7JefQ"&gt;'Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger'&lt;/a&gt; "The Robot Song." So, we listen to the robot song, after which I hear from Prissy Pants, "MOMMY!! I want MY song, too!" So, next on our playlist is Toni Basil's classic &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/y4CyNvEfWoE"&gt;'Mickey'&lt;/a&gt; which causes Paige to dissolve into fits of giggles and what I refer to as "car dancing." She kicks her legs around like a crazed horse and shouts, "Look at my legs, Mommy! They dancing!" After those two songs have concluded we move onto, "Let's play Daddy's song! The Potty song! Pwease?!" Okay, let me clarify... it's not a song about a potty. It's actually LMFAO's &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/KQ6zr6kCPj8"&gt;'Party Rock Anthem',&lt;/a&gt; but it was relatively new when we started potty training Paige, and she LOVED it, so I changed the words to 'Potty Rock' because, well, you do what you have to do when potty training a stubborn little girl. All of this, and we're almost to Debbie's. Time for one more song. Carl IV chimes in from the back seat: "MOM! Can we listen to the song that goes "UNGH!" in that part? You know...the UNGH part?" After I make him say "UNGH" about 12 more times I play &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/_-3JYuv9w4U"&gt;Michael Jackson's 'P.Y.T.'&lt;/a&gt; which has a grunt a few times about halfway through the song that Carl IV find heee-larious! By that time we're pulling into the driveway, I boot the kids out of the car and rock out to whatever songs suit my mood that day. This morning I was in a Metric kind of mood, and having just watched Scott Pilgram vs. The World (good movie!), I chose &lt;a href="http://youtu.be/-jMruFHTwrY"&gt;'Black Sheep.'&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; And, well, that's my morning. Now you know. Aren't you glad I shared?&amp;nbsp; :o)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2131240627904818233?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2131240627904818233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-morning-playlist.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2131240627904818233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2131240627904818233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/my-morning-playlist.html' title='My Morning Playlist'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8079367486978964005</id><published>2012-01-25T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T10:17:05.012-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How Does She Know?!</title><content type='html'>Since coming back to work, the #1 thing that people ask me about Teaghan is, "How is she sleeping?" It never fails...every time I answer with a, "Great! She's usually down by 8:30 and sleeps until around 4 or 5:00," the following night is a complete disaster! It's like she hears me and thinks, "Wait! She's sleeping, too?! Hmm. Can't have that!" Just yesterday I was telling a customer that she's doing better than my other 2 were at this age and BAM! Last night was uuuuuuuuuugly. So, God forgive me, but in the name of self preservation I am going to start lying when people ask about her sleep habits. "Awful. Up every 10 minutes." Hell, maybe she'll sleep 12 hours solid then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8079367486978964005?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8079367486978964005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-does-she-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8079367486978964005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8079367486978964005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-does-she-know.html' title='How Does She Know?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6575348511492916867</id><published>2012-01-10T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T10:14:19.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>Wow. To say a lot has happened since I last updated this is the understatement of the year! In case you don't already know, I had the baby! Hooray! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150480914531349.428298.550041348&amp;amp;type=1&amp;amp;l=cf00dfd004"&gt;Click here to see pics of when T was brand new.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teaghan Renee was born 11/7/2011 weighing in at 9lb 4oz and measuring 21 1/4" in length. And, hey. Wanna know something cool? My sister had her kid the same day! Daniel I'materribleauntbecauseIdon'tknowhismiddlename Collins was born across the pond in London on 11/7/2011! How cool is that?! &lt;br /&gt;While I was home with all 3 kids (allow me to interrupt myself here by saying GOD BLESS STAY AT HOME MOMS! I only did it for 2 months and I was ready to go insane!) I decided that it was time to crack down and potty train Paige. Well, to say she was tough is the understatement of the year. Wait...what? I already have one of those? Hmph. Alright, fine. It's the runner up understatement of the year. There. Back to Paige's potty training. I'll spare you the gruesome details, but one particularly poopy day for both Paige &amp;amp; Teaghan I had had it up to &lt;em&gt;here &lt;/em&gt;*picture me holding my hand about neck level* with wiping butts. Going from changing a newborn to changing an almost three year old...it just felt like wiping a 35 year old's behind! Wrong in so many ways. So, that was my breaking point, and I'm proud to say that within 2 weeks she was accident free (aside from the sporadic 2am "MOMMY, I peed my pants! Waaaaah!"). &lt;br /&gt;On Dec. 21st we piled into the van and headed to Pensacola for Christmas with the family. The whole family. My parents rented a SWEET house on Pensacola Beach that was right on the Gulf. So we drove down, my sister and her crew flew over from London, my grandparents drove down from Tennessee, and of course my parents were there. That's 9 adults and 5 kids (including 2 newborns) in one house for almost a week. It was quite an adventure! I know my kids had an absolute blast taking 547 walks on the beach per day, and it was so great to hang out with the family! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9l_HUXy52bo/Twx9w9reONI/AAAAAAAAAL4/S5tis_KMzrE/s1600/c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9l_HUXy52bo/Twx9w9reONI/AAAAAAAAAL4/S5tis_KMzrE/s320/c.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NsMR13FVpRo/Twx9ySgzdtI/AAAAAAAAAMA/XOrJxg-_23A/s1600/p.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NsMR13FVpRo/Twx9ySgzdtI/AAAAAAAAAMA/XOrJxg-_23A/s320/p.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nJDHxHLqY3g/Twx93u3kVCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/IAh9F5aWLdU/s1600/fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nJDHxHLqY3g/Twx93u3kVCI/AAAAAAAAAMI/IAh9F5aWLdU/s320/fam.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Christmas gift to the fam was to have the &lt;a href="https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150480914531349.428298.550041348&amp;amp;type=3#!/jessifieldphoto"&gt;amazing Jessi Field&lt;/a&gt; (a friend from high school who is now the most amazing photographer) take some great shots on the beach, so I'll be sure to share those once she edits them to make me ... errr...I mean &lt;em&gt;us &lt;/em&gt;look incredible. Heeheehee. &lt;br /&gt;Once we said farewell to the beach and returned home I started work the following Monday. I had been at my desk less than 30 minutes when my boss walked over to me and said he had absolutely no idea how much I did on a daily basis and that I would definitely be getting a nice raise this year! BOO-YAAAAH! It's a shame that it took me not being here for 2 months to get recognition, but it's nice to be appreciated all the same! :)&lt;br /&gt;So...I think that about wraps it up. I'm sure I left out some stuff here and there, but I'll make sure to post them as things pop into my head. Glad to be back! Happy New Year!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. -&amp;nbsp; Just&amp;nbsp;to show how shockingly similar Teaghan and Carl IV look,&amp;nbsp;check this out: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r-fBys8kRB8/Twx_pjNDOCI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ioCNJ82nDsk/s1600/cIV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-r-fBys8kRB8/Twx_pjNDOCI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/ioCNJ82nDsk/s320/cIV.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urZqq6MFeUA/Twx_sHcnyAI/AAAAAAAAAMY/npY2XOCcEqI/s1600/t2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-urZqq6MFeUA/Twx_sHcnyAI/AAAAAAAAAMY/npY2XOCcEqI/s320/t2.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6575348511492916867?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6575348511492916867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/catching-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6575348511492916867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6575348511492916867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2012/01/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9l_HUXy52bo/Twx9w9reONI/AAAAAAAAAL4/S5tis_KMzrE/s72-c/c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3704331828893153926</id><published>2011-10-28T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T06:42:36.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Things I Never Thought I Would Have to Say...</title><content type='html'>I knew becoming a mother would&amp;nbsp;change my life. I'm not stupid. But, really...the things that I find myself having to say to my children...it's really just frightening. Here's my top 10 (in no particular order):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) "Do I look like a tissue? Please don't wipe your nose on me!"&lt;br /&gt;2) "Do you have underpants on? Don't lie to me." &amp;lt;-- said with surprising regularity to the boy.&lt;br /&gt;3) "Get that out of your mouth! Gross!"&lt;br /&gt;4) "No, actually, I don't think the worm is cute."&lt;br /&gt;5) "Yeah, well I want a LOT of things." &amp;lt;--- Said in reply to the inevitable "Mom, I want...."&lt;br /&gt;6) "Quit chewing on your sleeves!" &amp;lt;--- I'm convinced the boy has an oral fixation. Half the time I feel like I'm talking to a puppy instead of a kid.&lt;br /&gt;7) "No, you cannot ride the dog."&lt;br /&gt;8) "Because Popsicles are not something you eat for breakfast!"&lt;br /&gt;9) "Ew! Please don't lick me!"&lt;br /&gt;...and now for my all time favorite:&lt;br /&gt;10) "Dude, if you don't get your hand out of your pants, I'm going to take your penis away." &amp;lt;--- Oh, yeah. I've said that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3704331828893153926?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3704331828893153926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/top-10-things-i-never-though-i-would.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3704331828893153926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3704331828893153926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/top-10-things-i-never-though-i-would.html' title='Top 10 Things I Never Thought I Would Have to Say...'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7487352312118803319</id><published>2011-10-21T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-21T11:21:44.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Say (and Do) the Darndest Things</title><content type='html'>Remember when Bill Cosby did those prime time specials with all the funny things kids say? I live that. Every day. It's probably the only thing that keeps me sane some days. Last night Carl III told me a story about Paige and I thought to myself, "I should really type this stuff out, because these are the things that I need to remember when I'm ready to flick my kids in the eye."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- When Carl III arrived at his mom's house to pick the kids up yesterday afternoon, Paige was sitting in the room that she and Carl IV share and was&amp;nbsp;reading a book. Carl III poked his head in and said, "Alright, Paige. It's time to go." She looks up from her book and says, "Get outta my woom." Carl III patiently says again, "Paige. It's time to leave. Let's go." But, alas, "Weave me awone!" is her snotty response. He walks in the room to get her, and she looks at him and says, very matter of fact, "Nobody wuves (loves)&amp;nbsp;me." WHAT?! He looked down at her and said, "Now, that's just not true. You know a lot of people that love you very much. Me, mommy, grandmom, Carl, Aunt Leah, and a bunch of other people." After considering this for a moment she says, "Oh, okay," gets up, and walks to the door. What a weirdo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- In our area, the students of Penn State have&amp;nbsp;a few&amp;nbsp;weekends a year that they collect money for childhood cancer research/treatment. One of these weekends was about 3 weeks ago, and while driving around I gave a few bucks to one of the kids while I was stopped at a light. Carl IV was immediately all over me with questions. "Mom, why'd you give that guy dollars?" So, I explained that they were collecting money to help sick kids and their families. "Sick kids?" he asks. I go on to explain that sometimes little boys and girls get so sick that they can't leave the hospital and all their medicine can get really expensive, so these students were out raising money to help their families pay for that stuff. He chewed this over and I thought that was the end of it. The following week my mother in law tells me a story that while in Wal Mart, Carl and Paige had their money (a hand full of change) that they wanted to use to buy a prize. Paige got some candy or something, but Carl couldn't decide on anything. While walking around, he noticed one of those big donation stands that have the slot for you to put your change in and it twirls down these slopes and stuff. Carl asked what it was, Debbie told him it was for sick kids. Carl looks up at her and asks, "Can I put my money in there? I want them to get better."&amp;nbsp; *sniff* Are you kidding me?! Little things like that are so great to hear. It's reassuring to know that I'm doing something right, you know? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Carl IV is working on writing the letters of the alphabet and corresponding letters with words that start with that letter, etc. Well, this weeks letter is 'E.' So, we're talking the other night about words that start with 'E.' So I say, "Elephant starts with E...egg, excellent, enormous..." At this point he starts cracking up, looks at me and says, "Hahaha! &lt;em&gt;YOU'RE &lt;/em&gt;enormous, mom!" .... Yeah. Thanks, punk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7487352312118803319?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7487352312118803319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/kids-say-and-do-darndest-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7487352312118803319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7487352312118803319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/kids-say-and-do-darndest-things.html' title='Kids Say (and Do) the Darndest Things'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6572488683401038800</id><published>2011-10-20T09:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T09:11:34.035-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Mess in Here!</title><content type='html'>The title of this post refers to my mind. I've got so much going on right now that I am completely incapable of forming a coherent post, so I'm just going to type some random thoughs flying around in there and hope that it provides you with some entertainment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- We moved into a house in King of Prussia last weekend. Actually, Carl III moved us into a house in King of Prussia. I basically sat on the couch (until he took that to the new house) and watched him move. The house is smaller, but absolutely fantastic! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I've been trying to organize all the baby stuff for Teaghan's pending arrival (only 2 1/2 more weeks!!!) and am just in absolute awe at the amount of crap that Paige accumulated during her infant-stage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Baby clothes (especially girls') can make anyone mooshy. Example: I'm digging through bins of Paige's old clothes to wash and organize by size. Carl III comes walking through the living room, pauses for a second in the doorway, turns around and says, "I don't care how lame it sounds...baby clothes are just so freakin' adorable." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Next Friday is my last day of work before maternity leave. I absolutely cannot &lt;em&gt;wait &lt;/em&gt;for my boss to get a feel for all of the things that I do every day around here. Knowing in the back of my mind that he will have a new appreciation for me when I come back is making the last 2 weeks here much more bearable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I still haven't packed my bag for the hospital. For my first pregnancy I shaved my legs every day for the last month of pregnancy, had my bag packed the second I entered my third trimester, had my doctor's number on speed dial, etc. This time around I have to be honest...I'm not even sure who I should call if/when I go into labor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I have woken up before 3am the past 3 nights. *yawn*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I want a big slice of pecan pie right now. Mmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- We're going &lt;a href="http://www.linvilla.com/events/pumpkinland.php"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; on Sunday to pick apples and pumpkins. I think I might be more excited than the kids. Fresh apples?! Yes, please!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I got a pedicure on Tuesday. My toes are hot pink. The girl working there looked at me like I was nuts when I picked my color. Why do people feel that loud colors are only for the summer time? If anything, I need that splash of fun more now than I did in July. Dur!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My ankles have reached 'cankle' status. What are cankles, you ask? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zm7YZ6fIvc0/TqBID3-FaWI/AAAAAAAAALs/nMyG53OhvoQ/s1600/cankle-illustration.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zm7YZ6fIvc0/TqBID3-FaWI/AAAAAAAAALs/nMyG53OhvoQ/s200/cankle-illustration.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6572488683401038800?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6572488683401038800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-mess-in-here.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6572488683401038800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6572488683401038800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/its-mess-in-here.html' title='It&apos;s a Mess in Here!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zm7YZ6fIvc0/TqBID3-FaWI/AAAAAAAAALs/nMyG53OhvoQ/s72-c/cankle-illustration.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6664480936642582304</id><published>2011-10-19T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-19T12:59:32.204-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Have You Seen This Child?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o1udCY31myQ/Tp8ryrBRdHI/AAAAAAAAALk/cCGwxc3JF8M/s1600/baby+p.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o1udCY31myQ/Tp8ryrBRdHI/AAAAAAAAALk/cCGwxc3JF8M/s320/baby+p.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Carl III found this picture on his phone's memory today. This was a little over 2 years ago. Have you seen this baby? Where did she go? Would you look at those cheeks?! ﻿&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6664480936642582304?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6664480936642582304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/have-you-seen-this-child.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6664480936642582304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6664480936642582304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/have-you-seen-this-child.html' title='Have You Seen This Child?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-o1udCY31myQ/Tp8ryrBRdHI/AAAAAAAAALk/cCGwxc3JF8M/s72-c/baby+p.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4156149013813825108</id><published>2011-10-04T11:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-04T11:22:03.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trey Love Needs Your Prayers</title><content type='html'>You may remember my post on a local boy from earlier this year &lt;a href="http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-serious-note.html"&gt;http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-serious-note.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just saw this on his parents' facebook page: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;From MikeandMissy Love: Trey is at chop. Hes as limp as a dish towel. We are waiting are his blood work to see whats up. His heart rate and blood pressure are both elevated. He lost a lot of weight. His temperature is normal. Please just pray very hard that nothing is seriously wrong. Please pass this on to as many people as possible. We need your prayers badly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="messageBody translationEligibleUserMessage" data-ft="{&amp;quot;type&amp;quot;:3}"&gt;So please say a quick prayer for Trey and his family. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4156149013813825108?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4156149013813825108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/trey-love-needs-your-prayers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4156149013813825108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4156149013813825108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/trey-love-needs-your-prayers.html' title='Trey Love Needs Your Prayers'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-9163699704875816994</id><published>2011-10-03T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T07:55:12.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OCTOBER?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>Good grief. I have no excuse. I just really stink at updating this little blog o' mine. Okay, so what's been going on in our lives? A lot, actually. Our current landlord...we'll call her Poop-Head...made&amp;nbsp;an agreement with us back in July that she would waive rent for August due to the house needing repairs that she didn't want to spend the money making. Our hopes were to find a new place by September and move on with our lives. Well, having a month to try and find a house that suites our needs and our budget turned out to be quite a bit more complicated than we had thought. So, we returned to our landlord offering to pay 1/2 rent for September in hopes that we could find somewhere by October. Well, Poop-Head makes a little grumbling, but no outright argument. Fast forward 1 week to us finding a letter from her lawyer demanding that we pay full rent for August and September now. Say, what?! Yeah, so we fire back with, "I'm not paying full rent for a house that is in need of repairs that aren't being addressed." Blah, blah, blah...lots of back and forth between us and the lawyer. Carl had the brilliant idea to contact a code enforcement agency to prove that the home was, in fact, in need of certain repairs that were more than just cosmetic or a convenience issue. So, the code guy came out, wrote up his report (which was SOOOOOO very much more than we even realized!) and we forwarded it to our landlord. Long story short: Poop-Head has realized that she doesn't have a proverbial leg to stand on, legally speaking, and she has agreed that we don't owe her any rents beyond what we have paid her. Whoo-hoo! &lt;br /&gt;We found a new house, in great condition, cool owners/landlords, and a fabulous neighborhood! Our official move-in is 10/15/2011, so we've got a really busy 2 weeks ahead of us! &lt;br /&gt;On the new baby front, we have decided on a name: Teaghan Renee Rudegeair. Also, I have officially reached the stage of pregnancy that picking up my other children results in my lying on the sofa scolding myself for 2 hours afterward. It also took me 5 minutes to put on my socks and shoes this morning...and the shoes are Uggs, so they just pull on. Maneuvering around this massive belly is posing more and more of a challenge every day. 5 more weeks to go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-9163699704875816994?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/9163699704875816994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/october.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/9163699704875816994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/9163699704875816994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/10/october.html' title='OCTOBER?!?!?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6227229725911097283</id><published>2011-09-09T12:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T12:42:04.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things NOT to Say to a Pregnant Chick</title><content type='html'>1) "Look how big you're getting!" Yeah, thanks, pal. Because I hadn't noticed that while pulling on my elastic waisted pants over the mound of flesh that used&amp;nbsp;to be my abdomen&amp;nbsp;this morning. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) "You're going to breastfeed, right?" Excuse me, how is this ANYONE's business? Honestly? And the people that ask this can swear up and down that they're asking because they care about your kid's well-being, and how breastfeeding is best...I'm convinced it's just an excuse for nosey biddies to get all judgey on those of us that choose to bottle-feed. Yes, I'm selfish. I've already dedicated my body to this child for almost an entire year. I'm ready to be able to leave the house without worrying about whether I'll have to pump or feed or risk my boobs exploding. That being said, I have the utmost admiration for women that can commit to breastfeeding for any length of time without going bonkers. Hats off to you, ladies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) "Have you decided on a name yet?" This one really bugs me for some reason. I think it's because, when you tell people names that you're considering, they take this as an open invitation to give their opinion on those names. Yeah...I didn't&amp;nbsp;ask&amp;nbsp;if you liked the name, lady. It's not your kid, so I don't care if you knew a girl named _____ in middle school and she was&amp;nbsp;absolutely terrible and you could never stand the name from that point on. That's nice. Make sure to scratch that name off&amp;nbsp;of your list of potential baby names, then.&amp;nbsp;I can't tell you how many people gave me negative&amp;nbsp;opinions about&amp;nbsp;the name Paige. Now that it's her name, all we get are compliments (and be honest...if you've met the girl, there isn't another name out there that suits her, right?!). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) "How much weight have you gained?" This one really requires no explanation...and, yes, someone asked me this&amp;nbsp;last week. My reply? A&amp;nbsp;VERY arched raised eyebrow and a closed&amp;nbsp;mouth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) "How are you feeling?" Ugh! This is the first thing everyone says to a pregnant woman. Do you really want to hear all of the things ailing me at the moment?! Do you?! My ankles swell up to the size of my calf almost daily resulting in&amp;nbsp;my having cankles for the first time in my life. My child's foot/knee/elbow has taken up residence between&amp;nbsp;2 of my floating ribs on the left side resulting in pain while sitting, sleeping, standing, etc. Shall I continue?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) "Oh, you're&amp;nbsp;coming back to work?" Again with the judgey. Yes, I am coming back to work. As much as I would love to be the stay-at-home mom type, I just don't have that in me (even if it was financially realistic...which it just isn't right now). I tried it, and I was borderline depressed.&amp;nbsp;There were days that the&amp;nbsp;boy and I&amp;nbsp;never got out of pajamas (and I'm&amp;nbsp;not talking 1 or 2 days&amp;nbsp;here and there...multiple days per week). It's just not my thing.&amp;nbsp;We're all much happier now that we're not in each other's pockets constantly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) "Was this a planned pregnancy?" This one usually comes immediately after first announcing that you're pregnant. How is this in any way appropriate, people? If it weren't a planned pregnancy, do you think I would want to discuss that with you?! Honestly...tact, people. Tact. Learn it. Use it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) "Are you going to have any more children?" Again, none of your business. And asking a woman that is 8 months pregnant this question...I can almost guarantee that her answer will be either "I don't know," or "Absolutely not." Also, there seems to be no answer to this question that satisfies the person asking. If you say yes, then they look at you like you're one of those families in Arkansas with 97 kids. One of my friends just had her first, and she and her husband are perfectly content with that. She actually got negative remarks from people when she said they probably weren't going to have any more. Ugh! BUTT OUT! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry for the rant, but apparently these things needed to be pointed out because people can be a little stupid. The end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6227229725911097283?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6227229725911097283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/09/things-not-to-say-to-pregnant-chick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6227229725911097283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6227229725911097283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/09/things-not-to-say-to-pregnant-chick.html' title='Things NOT to Say to a Pregnant Chick'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1313362169656984802</id><published>2011-09-02T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T09:55:56.357-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Extreme Coup -- Oooh, look! A butterfly.</title><content type='html'>After living without power for 4 days, obviously I had to throw away a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;lot &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;of food this week. I mean, really...A LOT! I am disgusted with how much frozen meat just got tossed into the trash can. Ugh. Such a waste of money. So, I decided I was going to buckle down with my coupons and the internet, find the best deals on as much as I could so that I can restock our food supply without draining our bank account. Yeeeeeaaaaahh...I'm having flashbacks to high school. I don't know if I have ADD or if I just get bored really fast. I'm digging through the sales ads, pulling up websites, all gung-ho about how much money I'm going to save and "Oooh! I can get free toothpaste!" then suddenly, *POOF* I'm bored and watching 'How I Met Your Mother' and eating 1/2 a bag of BBQ potato chips (&amp;lt;--- don't judge me). I'm trying. I really am. But it's just so hard for me to organize my own thoughts, much less 30 pages of coupons and remembering what store's ads are good from Thursday thru Wednesday and which ones run from Sunday to Saturday. My mind is boggled. Not to mention that looking at all these stupid ads is making me hungry. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1313362169656984802?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1313362169656984802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/09/extreme-coup-oooh-look-butterfly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1313362169656984802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1313362169656984802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/09/extreme-coup-oooh-look-butterfly.html' title='Extreme Coup -- Oooh, look! A butterfly.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4961327779402470927</id><published>2011-08-31T18:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T18:18:42.644-07:00</updated><title type='text'>LET THERE BE LIGHT!!!!</title><content type='html'>WE HAVE POWER!!!! Whoo-hooo!!!! I was cleaning all the food out of the fridge/freezer (and am ill at the amount of meat I had to throw away...what a waste) when I suddenly heard this humming. It took me a minute to realize it was the fridge kicking on! Hallelujah! That was one of those moments that I wish life was like a musical. I can think of no more appropriate time to spontaneously burst into song and dance! &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4961327779402470927?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4961327779402470927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/let-there-be-light.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4961327779402470927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4961327779402470927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/let-there-be-light.html' title='LET THERE BE LIGHT!!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7371399418896675747</id><published>2011-08-31T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T06:54:02.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wednesday, August 31, 2011</title><content type='html'>Still no power. On the verge of a HUGE meltdown. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7371399418896675747?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7371399418896675747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/wednesday-august-31-2011.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7371399418896675747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7371399418896675747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/wednesday-august-31-2011.html' title='Wednesday, August 31, 2011'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-562956369194781640</id><published>2011-08-30T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T13:52:53.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, I'm From Florida, but...</title><content type='html'>Hurricane Irene hit our area Saturday night. My power went out at approximately 10:00pm. It is 4:36pm on Tuesday. I am still without power. Not cool. &lt;dee head="" shakes=""&gt; Not cool at all. "But aren't you from Florida?" people keep asking me. "You should be used to this." Grrrr. Yes, people of Pennsylvania. I am from Florida. And yes, I have done this whole 'no power' thing before many times. But that's the point. I've done this. I've done this for weeks on end before. Now I live in Pennsylvania, I shouldn't have to! Not to mention that when I lived in Florida I was doing this without kids. My biggest concern was getting enough ice to keep my beer from skunking. No electricity for 3 days + 2 kids = Unhappy Dee. Add to the mix the fact that we have well water, so no electricity means no running water...forget it. I'm done. I have given up. No point in getting upset over it. That sure hasn't helped thus far. So here are a few things that I have just resigned myself to accepting until I get power back:&lt;/dee&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My house smells. It smells like the food that's going icky in my fridge that I'm afraid to clean out until I have enough light to &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;see what's in there. It smells like the toilets haven't flushed in 3 days. It smells like the husband who has been working 16 hours a day since Sunday and hasn't had a chance to shower (because remember? We don't have water.).&lt;br /&gt;- I will not get a full night's sleep until we get power back. This is due to several factors: 1) It's too damn quiet without the hum of the refrigerator or the fish tank or my fan. 2) The boy has decided that without his nightlight, his room is unfit for nightime habitation...in other words he's terrified of the dark and my mommy powers are the only thing that will keep him safe from the things that go bump in the night. So now I have a very leggy 4 year old taking up 3/4 of my bed and using every exposed body part of mine as a pillow. 3) Carl is working until 11:00pm every night. Our front door is loud. Do the math. &lt;br /&gt;- I am going to end up reading the same 4 Disney books every night. And, really, Disney? MUST you make the books so long? The kids are starting to catch on to my "skip a page" and "paraphrase" tactics. I'm sorry, but I just can't read a 50 page book to a 2 &amp;amp; 4 year old. &lt;br /&gt;Okay, enought whining...I'm heading home. Fingers crossed that by some miracle we have power. Puh-leeeeeeeeease, God! Please!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-562956369194781640?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/562956369194781640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/yes-im-from-florida-but.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/562956369194781640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/562956369194781640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/yes-im-from-florida-but.html' title='Yes, I&apos;m From Florida, but...'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2664199475125920127</id><published>2011-08-25T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T09:15:40.199-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The End is Neigh!</title><content type='html'>Did I even use 'neigh' properly? Probably not. Ah, well. You may be asking yourself, "When did Dee become an apocalyptic prophet?" Let me tell you about the goings on in the tri-state area lately. We have received more rain this month than ever before (at least the Philadelphia area has). Ever. In recorded history. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;EVER&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday we had an earthquake. Sort of. Alright, there was an earthquake in Virginia, and my desk in Limerick, PA jiggled a little. I was in the office alone and, I swear, I thought I was having a seizure. It was that subtle, but just enough that I was like, "Why in the world am I shaking?" Haha! Sad, I know, but true. &lt;br /&gt;Now we have a major hurricane heading our way this weekend. Hurricane Irene has the potential to still be a category 3 storm when it reaches our area. Really, Nature? Really?! That is the ONE reason I always give when I am asked the question, "Why on earth did you move to PA from Florida?!" "No hurricanes," I reply. Well you just had to prove me wrong, didn't you, Nature? Hmph. I don't appreciate that. At all. &lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, my cousin Claire is coming to visit today! Yay! Well, let me edit that. As long as the weather quits being stupid for long enough, my cousin Claire will arrive today! Hooray! I'm so excited, but at the same time a little...not nervous, but...anxious, maybe? You see, Claire and my sister were pen pals since childhood and have always been closer than Claire and I (I think they're a little closer in age, and just had more in common given the fact that last time Claire visited our family I was 12 and both she and my sister were in high school). Anywho, I, being the anxiety-ridden moron that I am, have been stressing out about what we're going to do and "Oooh, I have to take her to see this," and "Crap! I can't forget to take her here!" I'm just so desperate to show her a good time. I know. I'm needy. But now this stinkin' weather is goofing up all my plans! It's kind of hard to enjoy putzing around Philadelphia taking in the sights when there's a Cat 2-3 hurricane blowing around! Ugh! Let me assure you that this is all self-inflicted stress. Claire has assured me that all she wants to do is hang out with the family and spend a few days getting to know the kids and Carl and catching up with me. But I am always so worried that anyone that visits is bored...I don't want to be the boring stop on a trip, you know? "Oh, my trip was fabulous! I went to India and saw the Taj Mahal. Then off to Indiana where we did blah, blah, blah awesome things. Oh, yeah. Then I stayed at my cousin's house and watched her hyperactive children act like caged animals during a hurricane." *sigh* Why do I do this to myself? &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2664199475125920127?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2664199475125920127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/end-is-neigh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2664199475125920127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2664199475125920127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/end-is-neigh.html' title='The End is Neigh!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3112921470008367908</id><published>2011-08-23T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T09:54:06.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Comparison</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ETw5AqmWNSc/TkKpngv0GpI/AAAAAAAAALc/7DFvj_16mo8/s1600/carl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ETw5AqmWNSc/TkKpngv0GpI/AAAAAAAAALc/7DFvj_16mo8/s320/carl.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Boy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Born 4 days late...and would've probably stayed longer if given the opportunity.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Screamed&amp;nbsp;every waking moment for approximately 3 months.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lost almost all of his hair in the first&amp;nbsp;6 months of life save a freakish mullet-looking patch in the back.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slept on my or Carl's chest for the first few weeks because he wouldn't sleep otherwise. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Started crawling at 6 months, walking at 9 months, potty-trained by 2&amp;nbsp;1/2.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Has always fought sleep as if he's afraid we throw wild parties once he's in bed and he might&amp;nbsp;miss something. Seriously, the boy used to pull his own hair as an infant to stay awake (side note: maybe that's why it all fell out...hmmm...)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&amp;nbsp;Is very sensitive to other people's feelings. As a baby he was always VERY concerned when he heard another kid cry.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The older the gets, the more cuddly he gets, much to my delight!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tNa54cT-E7Q/TlPXbpAJQDI/AAAAAAAAALg/iCO9MK6CLII/s1600/kiss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tNa54cT-E7Q/TlPXbpAJQDI/AAAAAAAAALg/iCO9MK6CLII/s320/kiss.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Girl&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Born 8 days early&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;SUCH a pleasant baby...I remember thinking, "If normal babies are like this, I can see why people have more than one!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Has had the thickest, most amazing hair since day 1. No joke. She had her first hair cut at about 9 months. I don't think she ever lost a hair on her head.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As long as you swaddled her and laid her on her side, the girl would sleep wherever you put her down as a baby. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Started crawling at 5 1/2 months, walking at 8 months...still working on potty-training (stubborn little monster).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Slept so much during her first week at home that I took her to the pediatrician 3 times. He looked at me and said, "She's a baby. They sleep. It's kind of their thing." To which I replied, "Do you remember my son? Carl Rudegeair?" And a look of knowing came over the doctor and he patted me on the back and said, "Well, you've definitely earned a good sleeper, haven't you?"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lives in her own little world 85% of the time. She spontaneously bursts into song/dance/conversation and doesn't care who's around (or even if she's completely alone).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The older she gets, the less cuddly she gets. Hmph. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3112921470008367908?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3112921470008367908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/comparison.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3112921470008367908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3112921470008367908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/comparison.html' title='A Comparison'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ETw5AqmWNSc/TkKpngv0GpI/AAAAAAAAALc/7DFvj_16mo8/s72-c/carl.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1508443194513151965</id><published>2011-08-04T10:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-04T10:50:04.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Thursday List of Randomness</title><content type='html'>- Hearing the words "pediatric cardiologist" will strike the fear of God into the heart of a mother, regardless how innocent and routine the reason it was brought up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- At my monthly OB visit yesterday my doctor told me I only gained 1 lb this month...she may as well have driven me to Sonic herself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Why does Sonic serve french fries? Really? Who goes to Sonic and doesn't get tots?! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I'm torn...do I keep growing my hair out or go short again? Thoughts? I like being able to pull my hair up in a ponytail, but feel like shorter hair is more flattering for my Charlie Brown shaped head. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- One of my best friends from high school is getting married next September. It's hot in Pensacola in September. I will be 8 months pregnant at that time. God help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- 4 year olds are prone to emotional vomit. Let me elaborate: The 10 minute hysterical tantrum over what was triggered by a simple "No, you may not have a Popsicle for breakfast," will result in hearing all about how you don't care about said 4 year old, being a kid isn't fair, you never give him/her &lt;em&gt;anything, &lt;/em&gt;and remember that one time you were in the&amp;nbsp;shower and he/she was banging on the door because he/she had to poop and you told him/her to go away and maybe he/she should think of these things before someone else is in the bathroom? Yep...that means you don't love him/her and it hurt his/her feelings because all he/she wanted to do was go potty.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Teething does VERY unpleasant things to 2-year-olds. &amp;lt;--- just a reminder, because I had forgotten how true this is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&amp;nbsp;Paige went potty today! Without any prodding! She asked my mother-in-law to go potty, sat down, and actually went #2! Hooray! Maybe she'll just figure this whole thing out on her own???? That would be so super awesome...unlikely, but super awesome.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1508443194513151965?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1508443194513151965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/thursday-list-of-randomness.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1508443194513151965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1508443194513151965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/08/thursday-list-of-randomness.html' title='A Thursday List of Randomness'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4830332453888308668</id><published>2011-07-21T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-21T06:15:14.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Clever Boy</title><content type='html'>Every weekday morning I drop the kids off at my mother-in-law's house at around 7:30. She and I then sit at her kitchen table and just enjoy the brief pleasure of a 30 minute adult conversation until I head on my way for work. This morning Debbie was telling me about how Carl decided he wanted to learn to swim with his face in the water. Finding it rather difficult to explain she decided it would be easier to show him how to go about blowing bubbles, etc. God love her, she then proceeds to get in the kiddie pool with Carl IV and show him how to go about this (which I have to say is &lt;em&gt;awesome &lt;/em&gt;of her because knowing the two kids that swim in there, it was probably half pee by that point). My son stops her and says, "Grandmom, I don't think this pool is meant for big ladies." Debbie stops and looks at him and says, "You mean a grown-up lady?" My son shakes his head and says, "No, I mean big," and pats his behind. For those of you who have not met my mother-in-law, let me tell you...she is FAR from overweight. The woman wears a smaller size than I do, and is in no way what I would consider "big." My son then looks at her and says, "My mom doesn't have a big butt." Aaaaaand, just like that, the boy has taken the lead as my favorite.&amp;nbsp; :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4830332453888308668?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4830332453888308668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/07/clever-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4830332453888308668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4830332453888308668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/07/clever-boy.html' title='Clever Boy'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5437952211688937482</id><published>2011-07-15T06:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T06:36:32.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why am I Embarrassed?!</title><content type='html'>Last Friday I was unfortunate enough to have experienced what is, quite possibly, the most upsetting, offensive situation of my life to date. Long story short, my boss offered to take me to lunch with his friend because, well, I'm pregnant and I like to eat. So I'm all, "Hell yeah!" So we go to lunch up the road at a bar/restaurant and come back to the office all stuffed and happy. My boss then takes the friend we went to lunch with to pick up his car from the shop where it was being repaired. While my boss is gone, his wife arrives at the office and starts flipping out on me for going to lunch with her husband. Long story short, apparently their marriage has faced some issues in the past and they had an understanding that he was not to take women to lunch anymore. (Apparently, I was somehow supposed to know this...) "Okay," I'm thinking to myself, "while she's totally out of line for yelling at me about this, she's clearly got some past reason to be suspicious of her husband's actions in this situation, etc., etc." So, I'm just letting her vent and kind of blowing it off. Then, suddenly, she's in my face yelling about how I'm a married woman going to lunch with a married man, and I should be ashamed of myself. "For going to lunch?" I asked. I'm still so dumbfounded at this point that I can't wrap my head around what she's insinuating. Finally, she crossed a line. "I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that's not his baby." ...I'm going to give that a minute to sink in, because I know it took me a second. Now this crazy woman has gone from making accusations about her husband's intentions to insulting not only my fidelity to my husband and marriage, but my unborn child?! Ugh! I can think of a dozen things that I wish I had said to that woman now, but at the time I was so blown away that I just looked at her and said, "Are you kidding me?!" (and, alright, I might've embellished that with a few curse words). &lt;br /&gt;My boss returns from dropping his friend off, his wife turns and starts lashing out at him, and my boss turns to me and tells me that I can leave and he'll pay me for the rest of the day&amp;nbsp;because I don't have to sit there and listen to their nonsense. Later that afternoon/evening I received several emails from my boss apologizing for his wife's behavior and stating that he could assure me that something like that will never happen again and his wife will more than likely never set foot in this office again. I replied to him letting him know that as far as I was concerned we were cool, but if his wife ever came at me like that again, it would not end well (again...that might've been said with more colorful language).&lt;br /&gt;So, this past week at work everything has been surprisingly normal. I think we have both just decided that we'd rather not address the issue and let it consume any more of our normalcy than it already has. After all, neither of us have anything to feel weird about (especially me). &lt;br /&gt;This whole situation has gotten me thinking, though...why in the world was I embarrassed about telling people what had happened? I haven't talked to my best friend about this, I haven't said anything to my mom. It got me thinking...why, when we are victimized, do we feel ashamed of telling people about it? &lt;br /&gt;So, I've decided that if this escalates any further (and quite possibly even if it does not) I will be looking for a new job. I cannot come to work every day wondering if some woman whose marriage is apparently a complete sham is going to pick today to come in and take it out on me. &lt;br /&gt;I'm not looking for sympathy or advice, just really venting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5437952211688937482?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5437952211688937482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/07/why-am-i-embarrassed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5437952211688937482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5437952211688937482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/07/why-am-i-embarrassed.html' title='Why am I Embarrassed?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2728120987563620877</id><published>2011-07-06T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T13:55:25.318-07:00</updated><title type='text'>18 Weeks Left?</title><content type='html'>That sounds so long, and yet the fact that I'm more than halfway through this pregnancy is really starting to freak me out. Especially when I think about all the stuff going on between now and then. My buddy, BJ, is coming down on the 16th for his birthday (which is also my dad's birthday...hi, dad!); my cousin, Claire, is coming to visit in August (which is so freakin' awesome since I haven't seen her since I was maybe 12!); September is my birthday, a trip to Florida for Amanda's wedding, and BJ and I are going to fly one of our friends from P'cola who is now a photographer up here to take some pics for us (and to hang out since we haven't seen her since the late '90s); October brings mine and Carl's 7th anniversary (I know...weird, right?), Halloween, and then BAM! It's baby time. Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;I'm still having a hell of a time finding maternity clothes, but need to suck it up and go shopping this weekend so I can avoid what is becoming my daily morning ritual of changing clothes 8 times because my pants are too tight and that shirt isn't long enough and "Forget it! I'm not going to work today! I look like a cow in these pants!" and I end up sobbing on top of a pile of clothes that won't fit the way I want. *sigh* My problem is work clothes. I have oodles of maternity jeans that a couple of friends have loaned me, but unfortunately my boss isn't &lt;em&gt;that &lt;/em&gt;cool and I am expected to dress in appropriate office wear on occasion. Bummer. &lt;br /&gt;I took the kids to our new pediatrician last Friday for a new patient physical, and turns out both of them needed a booster shot for...something... (don't judge me. I'm lucky I can remember the kids' names most days!) Wow. That did NOT go over well. I think the worst part is having to hold them down while the nurse gives the shot. Carl IV is no dummy and knew nothing good was going to come of having his mom holding his arms by the wrist and a nurse lying over the top of his legs. That kid was thrashing around like a maniac from the second the nurse cleaned his leg with the alcohol wipe until the needle came out. Is it just my kids, or do all kids look up at their parents after they get a shot with that "Why did you let them do that to me?!" look in their eyes? Ugh! It's devastating! The upside: this doctor gives each kid a "prescription" for a frozen yogurt at the mall after they get a shot. SCORE! &lt;br /&gt;Alright, I know this post was kind of all over the place, but I'm having a scatterbrained kind of day, and now I'm ending it abruptly because I have a doctor's appointment in half an hour and have to get out of here. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2728120987563620877?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2728120987563620877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/07/18-weeks-left.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2728120987563620877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2728120987563620877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/07/18-weeks-left.html' title='18 Weeks Left?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1216998876352655684</id><published>2011-06-29T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-29T11:15:47.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Cheap</title><content type='html'>There. I said it. I'm cheap. I'm not even going to pretend and say "frugal" or "thrifty." I'm cheap. I pretty much have to be. Unfortunately, it is becoming alarmingly clear that unless I want to wear maternity clothes that look like this&amp;nbsp; &lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0lpQLOSbSw/TgtihT4mDuI/AAAAAAAAALY/MWN-ztW3PHw/s1600/ug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" i$="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0lpQLOSbSw/TgtihT4mDuI/AAAAAAAAALY/MWN-ztW3PHw/s200/ug.jpg" width="91" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am going to have to get over my cheapness because I cannot find cute, trendy, flattering maternity clothes within my financial comfort zone. I went to Kohl's today thinking, "Kohl's...it's pretty hard not to find something I like at Kohl's." Well, by the time I tracked down their maternity department hidden away in the back behind the racks of bras and panties, I find that the "department" consists of 4 racks of tacky, tent/bell-shaped items made of synthetic fabrics that made me sweat just looking at them. Side note: Why do they design some maternity clothes to look like the same styles you find in the old lady section? How many retirees do you see that are knocked-up?! Come on, people! Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;In my frustration over the lack of selection at Kohl's I then began searching online at Old Navy, Gap, etc. and their prices...obscene. I absolutely &lt;em&gt;refuse&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;to spend $50 on a pair of pants that I won't be able to wear this time next year. It's ridiculous! For Pete's sake, I'm expecting a baby...something that will be a financial parasite for &lt;em&gt;at least &lt;/em&gt;the next 18 years. Is spending a small fortune on clothes that I'll only use for 5 months really a sound investment? I think not. I've tried looking at Goodwill, and their maternity stuff is usually jeans (of which I have plenty) or really outdated, floral tops. GAG! &lt;br /&gt;So, long story short, if any of you know someone that designs maternity clothes, kick them in the shin for me. Trust me...they deserve it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1216998876352655684?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1216998876352655684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-cheap.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1216998876352655684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1216998876352655684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-cheap.html' title='I&apos;m Cheap'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z0lpQLOSbSw/TgtihT4mDuI/AAAAAAAAALY/MWN-ztW3PHw/s72-c/ug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4861235809640363076</id><published>2011-06-20T13:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-20T13:41:59.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S A GIRL!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>That's right, boys and girls...as one of my friends put so perfectly, "Team Estrogen takes the lead in the Rudegeair house!" I'll try and write a longer post later this week, but wanted to spread the word asap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4861235809640363076?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4861235809640363076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-girl.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4861235809640363076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4861235809640363076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/its-girl.html' title='IT&apos;S A GIRL!!!!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6411699586829654587</id><published>2011-06-06T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T10:57:17.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Monday-ness</title><content type='html'>It's Monday. I have a headache. My thoughts aren't coherent enough to form paragraphs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Waking up 15 minutes before your alarm makes you tired all day. Doesn't matter if the 8 hours before were the most blissful sleep ever experienced by a human. That 15 minutes screws you for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) If you buy tickets for your husband and 4-year-old son to go to &lt;a href="http://www.monsterjam.com/"&gt;Monster Jams&lt;/a&gt;, be prepared to listen to nothing but monster truck talk for the next week of your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) My daughter demands to have a dry shirt put on if she spills even the slightest bit of water on herself, but will sit in a soaking wet diaper until you drag her kicking and screaming to change it. ????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I have come to the frightening realization that I will most-likely be selling insurance for the remainder of my working life. *sigh* I really don't wanna, but the thought of starting over at something else just seems like an awful lot of trouble now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I miss the beach. I know I practically never went, but knowing it was less than 30 minutes away was nice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I talk to my mom more now that we're hundreds of miles apart than I did when we lived in the same town. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) I find it really bizarre when people never live outside of the town they grew up in. It's one thing to leave for a while and go back, but to never have experienced life outside of your hometown...that's just weird to me. (Side Note: It always seems that these are the people that talk like they know everything and are so "cultured" and knowledgeable. Dude. You've never lived more than 30 minutes away from your mom. Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) My kids have made me a much more patient person...but at the same time, I am MUCH less tolerant of b.s. than I used to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Having been both a stay-at-home mom and now a working mom, I've realized that no matter what you do, you can't please everyone so you may as well do what works for you. When I was at home with the kids it was inevitable that people thought I "didn't work." Yeah, because being at a kid's disposal 24/7 is like a vacation. Pfffft. And now that I work I get the, "Oh, but you're missing so much!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) I officially have a baby bump and wore maternity clothes all weekend. (Dee hangs head, sobbing) Goodbye, zippers and buttons. I will miss you. Elastic waistbands, here I come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6411699586829654587?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6411699586829654587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/random-monday-ness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6411699586829654587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6411699586829654587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/06/random-monday-ness.html' title='Random Monday-ness'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4119175527860131667</id><published>2011-05-26T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T13:21:17.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obscure Celebrity Crush</title><content type='html'>Okay, this blog has absolutely nothing to do with my family, so if that's why you stopped by, sorry. My crazy pregnant brain will not allow any coherant thoughts to form, so I've been putzing around online most of the day. That's when I stumbled across my celebrity crush. The one guy that I can actually describe as "handsome." Not "hot" or "sexy"... how many guys get called handsome now. Over the age of 5, at least? Not many. Anywho, here he is. Anderson Cooper. &lt;em&gt;*sigh* &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Br-2eJkrUI/Td61OBd-gfI/AAAAAAAAALU/5VAU-DXAviM/s1600/anderson-cooper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="253" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Br-2eJkrUI/Td61OBd-gfI/AAAAAAAAALU/5VAU-DXAviM/s320/anderson-cooper.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I can't explain it, but the man is just dreamy to me. Maybe it's the steely blue eyes, the distinguished salt and pepper hair that he manages to pull off without looking old enough to be my father...I repeat, *&lt;em&gt;sigh*.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started to think, "Hmm...surely other people have celebrity crushes that they wouldn't mind sharing so I felt a little less like a psycho for finding a man that I've never crossed paths with so "dreamy." So, I pose this question to you: Who is your less-than-obvious celebrity crush. What I mean is, if you're about to answer this with "Brad Pitt" or "Justin Timberlake" or "Scarlett Johanson" forget it. They are so obviously "sexy" and I'm sure you're one in a bajillion in thinking so. I'm talking about the "handsome" or "beautiful" crushes that fly under the radar...c'mon...you've got to have at least one, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4119175527860131667?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4119175527860131667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/obscure-celebrity-crush.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4119175527860131667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4119175527860131667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/obscure-celebrity-crush.html' title='Obscure Celebrity Crush'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1Br-2eJkrUI/Td61OBd-gfI/AAAAAAAAALU/5VAU-DXAviM/s72-c/anderson-cooper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8169992351878788799</id><published>2011-05-17T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T10:26:37.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Date is Set!!!</title><content type='html'>That's right. I made &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;the &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;appointment! June 20, 2011 at 11:15am we are scheduled for our ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby! Aaaaaak! I am so excited! People keep asking me what I'm hoping for. Quite honestly, I'm torn. I would absolutely ADORE another boy just because, well, I don't need that many chicks in my house to put it bluntly. I like running the show, and Paige is already cramping my style a little trying to take over my "Queen of the Castle" title. But, having grown up with a sister, I really think every girl needs a sister (if you're a girl and have one, you know what I'm talking about). It's a bond that just...you can't explain and you just don't get it unless you are a sister to a sister. I'm sure the same could be said about boys and brothers, but seeing as I'm neither, I can't say for certain. Plus, girl clothes are SO much cuter. But boys are so easy. &lt;em&gt;sigh&lt;/em&gt; See what I mean? Torn. In other words, we'll be perfectly happy with whatever we end up with. &lt;br /&gt;Carl IV has started going through a phase where he's really interested in death. Weird, right? I don't mean in a creepy way, he's just started talking about dead things or death in general more than ever before. For example: We'll be sitting down to dinner and he asks, "They killed this chicken for us to eat it?" To which I reply, "Yes, they did. It would be hard to eat a chicken if it were alive and running back and forth across the table. Now hush and eat your food." He does this almost every night. I especially like when he asks about something that was never alive, like cereal. "Mom, they killed this cereal for me to eat it?" Me: "No, silly. They make cereal out of grains and stuff." Him: "How they make it?" Me: "Umm...well first a machine goes through a field and picks all the grain, then it goes through another machine and...well...be quiet and eat your breakfast." Whew! I can't wait until he's old enough for me to use the old, "Go look it up!" line, because I don't know what I'm talking about 80% of the time. Okay, 90%. Whatever. The boy has also recently started riding a bike without training wheels. NO TRAINING WHEELS! Yeah, he just turned 4. I'm telling you, this kid's a beast!&lt;br /&gt;Paige is...well...she's 2. That about sums it up. We're starting to get a lot of "No"s from her. Grrr. I forgot how obnoxious that phase is. That and the constant, "Whassat (what's that)?", and "Why?" I would like to apologize to every parent that I ever heard say, "Because I said so!" and thought to myself, "Hmph! I would &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;say that to my child. That's how they learn." Yeah, the me 5 years ago was an idiot. I've since shut her up and she has been taken over by a much more understanding, less judgemental me that happens to say, "Because I said so," at a disturbing frequency.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8169992351878788799?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8169992351878788799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/date-is-set.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8169992351878788799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8169992351878788799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/date-is-set.html' title='The Date is Set!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1141379970118106090</id><published>2011-05-11T08:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T08:58:07.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>FEED ME!!!</title><content type='html'>I now know how Audrey II felt in "Little Shop of Horrors." I feel like grabbing everything in sight and sobbing, "Feed me!" Seriously. I am hungry. All the time. It's ridiculous. I'm trying to take it easy because I don't want to gain&amp;nbsp;a bajillion pounds during this pregnancy, but I'm starving all day long. I actually tried last week to just eat at meal time and drink water in between to fill me up thinking maybe I was just eating because I was used to eating. Nope. That night while I was cooking dinner I actually had a faint spell. I got all clammy, got tunnel vision, dizziness set in...what is this kid doing to me?! Faint spells?! I don't think anyone has actually had a faint spell since the days of Gone With The Wind. Faint spell. Pffft. Ridiculous. &lt;br /&gt;I started keeping track of the baby's growth through some website that tells you each week what's going on in there. Pretty cool. Except one thing. The site shows you pictures of other moms-to-be due in the same month as you, and all of these chicks are uploading photos of their baby bumps, and I've got to tell you, most of them look as if they're just using this pregnancy as an excuse not to suck in their guts anymore. I feel mean and rude saying it, but I'm serious. I know people show at different stages depending on their build and what # child it is, etc. But some of these girls...come on. You are NOT trying to pass that extra 30lbs you've been hiding under Spanx as a baby belly at 3 months pregnant! Stop it! It's driving me nuts. Maybe it's the hormones making me bitchy, but I just want to call them all out by commenting on their pictures. "Hey, congratulations! Looks like you're expecting a case of Little Debbies!" I know, I know. "Dee, you're being really mean." I can't help it. These are the kinds of things that I'm thinking all the time. Pregnancy just removes my internal filter, so these mean things just come pouring out. Blame it on the baby. Bad, Thaddeus. Bad.&lt;br /&gt;Did you catch that? Yeah, Thaddeus is on the table as a boy name. I know most people think it's weird, but I really dig it. Here's what I've got so far: Boy: Thaddeus or Gabriel. Girl: Tegan, Miranda, Brenna. What do you think? Is naming a kid Thaddeus just cruel or do you think my kid would be cool/tough enough to pull it off?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1141379970118106090?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1141379970118106090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/feed-me.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1141379970118106090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1141379970118106090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/feed-me.html' title='FEED ME!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5509431462713881738</id><published>2011-05-03T10:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T10:36:20.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heartbeats</title><content type='html'>I had my second prenatal checkup yesterday and Carl III&amp;nbsp;somehow convinced me that we should take the kids so they could "be&amp;nbsp;a part" of this pregnancy. I have to agree, it sounds good in theory. They get to hear the heartbeat and make it a little more real. One thing that slipped my mind: doctors make you wait. A lot. For a long time. Try waiting in a 10x10 doctors' examination room with a 2 year old, a 4 year old, a STARVING pregnant woman, and a husband who is growing ever-more irritated with all 3 prior-mentioned individuals. I'm suprised we made it out without any casualties. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to sappiness: We heard the new baby's heartbeat for the first time. *sigh* The look on the kids' faces (especially Paige) was priceless. Eyes wide, mouths open in an "o", just completely dumb-struck. So cool. But that will definitely be the last time they accompany us to the doctor. Oi. &lt;br /&gt;Carl IV was asking me over the weekend how the baby would get out of my belly. "Sheez," I thought, "This already?! I am NOT ready for the birds and the bees talk." So, I kept it as simple as possible. I explained that in an ideal situation the baby just came out when it was ready. (I was careful not to mention where said baby came out of. I don't even like to think about that any more than I have to. &lt;em&gt;shudder&lt;/em&gt;) Then, I went on to explain that sometimes the baby needs to come out through a cut in the mommy's belly (Imagine my 4 year old's fascination at the thought of someone sawing me in half). Well, somehow he convinced himself that they would be cutting into my tummy to hear the baby's heartbeat. So, when we're pulling out of the doctor's office parking lot Carl IV says, "Why didn't they cut you open? I thought they were going to cut your tummy?" I can't help but laugh at the fact that 1) He was so distracted by the idea of someone cutting me in half that he totally missed the point of &lt;em&gt;why &lt;/em&gt;someone would be cutting me open, and 2) He thought I would bring him and his sister to WATCH someone saw me in two?!?! What a weirdo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5509431462713881738?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5509431462713881738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/heartbeats.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5509431462713881738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5509431462713881738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/05/heartbeats.html' title='Heartbeats'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8863147733203500683</id><published>2011-04-26T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T11:04:35.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Pictures</title><content type='html'>I am FAR too lazy to upload pictures to both Facebook and this blog, so I'm just going to post the link to my Facebook pictures of the kids at Easter and let you do all the work.&amp;nbsp; :)&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;http://www.facebook.com/media/set/fbx/?set=a.10150232857101349.366263.550041348&amp;amp;l=d26ac802a8&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8863147733203500683?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8863147733203500683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8863147733203500683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8863147733203500683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/04/easter-pictures.html' title='Easter Pictures'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8008116247093202626</id><published>2011-04-20T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T09:54:13.319-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Earth Day</title><content type='html'>Today is Earth Day! Yay! I remember, growing up in Pensacola, they used to have an Earth Day Festival (do they still do this? I really hope so.) that my mom would take me to. They had arts and crafts for the kids, cool art on display and for sale...just a really nice time to get out in the fresh air. Thinking back to that makes me a little home-sick. This is probably the only time of year that I can actually say I miss living in Florida. The reason? It's pretty simple, really. Current temperature in Pensacola, Fl: 73°. Current temperature in Philadelphia, PA: 52°. *sigh* I keep reading posts from all the people I know if P'cola about heading to the beach. Hmph. I still haven't worn flip-flops yet! Ah, well. I'll brag about having the windows open to a nice breeze in May when they (or you depending on who's reading this) are blasting the A/C! Muahahahaha! &amp;lt;--- my attempt at typing an evil laugh. &lt;br /&gt;On a totally different note, I'm really interested in couponing. One of my oldest friends (and by oldest I mean we've known each other forever, not that she's actually old...just clearing that up for everyone on behalf of Suzie...don't think she'd like me calling her old. LOL) actually went to a couponing class and found this website that makes the whole thing so easy. All she does is pull the Sunday coupons, check the website, and the site tells her what coupons to use in conjunction with what sales to make the most of the coupon. I need something like that. I need a class. I don't know what an EBT is. How do you know if a store doubles/triples coupons? Help! Aaaaak! I always go into coupon clipping really gung-ho and end up getting tired of keeping up with the coupons and sales...and half the time the generic brand (which I buy 90% of the time) is &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;cheaper than the name-brand with a coupon. *whew* See?! I'm exhausted just thinking about it. But, given the current state of things financially, I really feel like it might be worth the effort. Any helpful hints, Suze? Mom? Anybody? Hello?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8008116247093202626?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8008116247093202626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/04/earth-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8008116247093202626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8008116247093202626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/04/earth-day.html' title='Earth Day'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4343546225504833610</id><published>2011-04-11T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T13:01:48.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whaddaya Mean it Hasn't Been 9 Months Yet?!</title><content type='html'>*groan* It is not a good indication that at my current stage of pregnancy (9 weeks) I am already "done." With the last two pregnancies I made it to at least the third trimester before feeling this way. I think it must have something to do with the fact that I'm working full-time this time around and the last two I got to nap pretty regularly. I'm exhausted! That said, I am pleased to announce that the nausea seems to have run its' course and is showing no sign of returning. *fingers crossed*&lt;br /&gt;I had my first "official" OB appointment last week and everything is coming along nicely. My due date is November 6, 2011. I'm thinking I'll probably have the baby more like late October, though. You see, I had to have a c-section with Paige (long story...induction went awry...labor stalled at 4cm...blah, blah, blah), so I am left now with the decision of whether I want to attempt a VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) or have a repeat C-section. The more I think about it, I'm leaning toward repeat c-section. Although the chance of anything going wrong during a VBAC is slim (I think less than 2%), I just can't make myself see why &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;ANY &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;unnecessary risk is worth it. Ah, well...I'm sure I'll change my mind another 20 times between now and then, so stay tuned. &lt;br /&gt;On to the kids. Oi! Carl IV is going through a phase (please, God, let it just be a phase) where he has something to say about &lt;em&gt;everything&lt;/em&gt;! Carl III must have said to me a dozen times over the weekend, "Why, of all your qualities, did you have to pass on your smart-ass mouth to our kids? WHY?!" To which I reply, "I would rather have my kid be a smart-ass than a dumb-ass." And it's true. As obnoxious as it can be, I'm convinced that sassiness at least shows intelligence. Now, how to get the boy to curb the know-it-all attitude into funny sarcasm...I've always been a fan of sarcasm. I know what you're thinking..."NO! Dee, not you! Sarcastic?! Never." But, alas...it's true. I find sarcasm very appealing, when used properly. Unfortunately the art is lost on 4-year-old boys. And on that note, what's with 4-year-old boys?! What a bunch of freaks! Seriously...just weird. 6 months ago, my son was not as weird as he is today. What happened? My fellow parents with kids 4 and over...does this go away? Is it just my kid? Is it just boys? Please help, because I'm starting to wonder if the kid will ever be able to mingle with the rest of society without drawing "those looks."&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend marked the official peak of Paige's journey into the Terrible Twos. And let me tell you, I thought Carl IV was bad...boy was I wrong. You see, Carl IV was a tantrum-thrower, but he sobbed. Paige stands exactly where she is and just shrieks and screeches when she doesn't get her way. I have never in my life had a more constant headache than I have over the past 2 days. I was actually sort of relieved to come to work today because I knew my boss wouldn't screech in my face because he couldn't have another cup of juice and was getting water instead. *sigh* I'm hoping she gets over this pretty quickly or I may have to resort to ear plugs. &lt;br /&gt;We added a few new members to the family a couple of weeks ago. Paige got a few fishies (and don't ask me to tell you how she pronounces fish, because this is a family show, people...let's just say it's similar to a little boy's slang for female mammary glands), and Carl IV got a turtle. We haven't named any of the fish because all the stupid things look the same, so they're just "the fishies" (unless Paige says it, in which case see above). Carl IV's turtle has gone through about 4 different names now. Everything from Sammy the Snail (Me:"But, dude, he's not a snail." Carl IV:"He's my turtle! I can call him whatever I want to!") to Stretch to just Sammy (Carl IV:"You wight, mommy. He's no snail."). One day last week Carl IV just decided it was easiest to stick with "My Pet Turtle." I think this is a wise decision as I was finding it hard to keep track. &lt;br /&gt;Now, I need some advice/tips/etc. It came to mind the other day that Carl IV is 4 now. (I know. Duh...) But, when I actually think about it, 4 is kind of a big deal. That's when&amp;nbsp;I think back and can first &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;remember things. And one of the things I remember is that's right about when I started to read. I remember my sister had all these cool Archie comics and Katie Keen comics and I was desperate to know what was going on with those incredibly colorful pictures, but my mom refused to read comic books to me. "If you want to read comics, you'll have to read them yourself." ...and I did. I need help, Internet. How can I get my kid interested in reading? I feel like I have to sit on top of him to make through anything longer than 5 or&amp;nbsp;6 pages. I vaguely remember my mom labeling everything in her classroom when she taught pre-K so the kids would associate certain items with their names. I think I might do that. Thoughts? Suggestions? What worked for your kids?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4343546225504833610?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4343546225504833610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/04/whaddaya-mean-it-hasnt-been-9-months.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4343546225504833610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4343546225504833610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/04/whaddaya-mean-it-hasnt-been-9-months.html' title='Whaddaya Mean it Hasn&apos;t Been 9 Months Yet?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8909167279638804265</id><published>2011-03-30T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T11:32:53.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On a Serious Note...</title><content type='html'>There is a little boy in the Philadelphia area (that happens to be related to a girl I used to work with) who is undergoing treatment for a rare form of cancer. Get this...he's already been through this once, and I think he's only 4...and it's back. Trey Love and his family are in dire need of prayers. If you belong to a church, if you could please ask that your congregation pray for this child and his family. If you live in the Philadelphia area, there will be a Beef &amp;amp; Beer fundraiser to benefit Trey's family this Saturday, 4/2 at the Phoenixville Firehouse. Tickets are $25 for adults, $15 for kids 5-12, and kids 5 and under are free. One of my friends on Facebook shared this link today, and I have to warn you...it's a bit of a tear-jerker, but the one thing I could not help but notice was the smiles on the parents' faces. They are going through every parent's worst nightmare &lt;em&gt;for the second time &lt;/em&gt;and are still able to put on a happy face for their son.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.danielfullamphotography.com/archives/343"&gt;http://www.danielfullamphotography.com/archives/343&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The group shots in this video are of a candlelight vigil held for Trey a week or so ago...so moving to see so many people...complete strangers...come together to pray for Trey and his family. Okay, I have to go before I start crying. The point here people: Pray.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8909167279638804265?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8909167279638804265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-serious-note.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8909167279638804265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8909167279638804265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/on-serious-note.html' title='On a Serious Note...'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1421984798683010843</id><published>2011-03-28T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T13:03:38.413-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies Not to Watch When Pregnant:</title><content type='html'>1) Fried Green Tomatoes ---Ruth dies, sobbing ensues.&lt;br /&gt;2) Steel Magnolias --- Shelby dies, sobbing ensues.&lt;br /&gt;3) Someone Like You --- Ashley Judd's character's sister has miscarriage, sobbing ensues.&lt;br /&gt;4) Moulin Rouge --- Satine dies, sobbing ensues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I foolishly watched THREE of these movies this weekend and ended up an absolute wreck. Fried Green Tomatoes was on Saturday afternoon, and I absolutely adore that movie. Watching it pregnant came with several side effects: 1) the obvious sobbing, 2) Frank Bennett, Ruth's husband, was a royal jerk and deserved what he got, but the thought of Idgy and Big George BBQ-ing a human...it almost made me gag, 3) For the entire length of the movie I wanted some fried green tomatoes...and that's a really long movie...and I &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; want some fried green tomatoes. &lt;br /&gt;Steel Magnolias was on yesterday while the kids were napping, and having learned my mistake from the day before, I flicked the TV off the second Shelby went into the hospital. Whew! Dodged a bullet there.&lt;br /&gt;Then, to wrap up the weekend of chick-flicks, Moulin Rouge came on! I&amp;nbsp;watched about 10 minutes before&amp;nbsp;I gathered enough self-control to turn it off before I was beyond hope.&amp;nbsp;That movie gets me over and over again...but I did DVR it, so I'm sure I'll end up a blubbering mess&amp;nbsp;before the week is out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1421984798683010843?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1421984798683010843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/movies-not-to-watch-when-pregnant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1421984798683010843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1421984798683010843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/movies-not-to-watch-when-pregnant.html' title='Movies Not to Watch When Pregnant:'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4807259830354419849</id><published>2011-03-15T06:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T06:02:21.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a freakin' week!</title><content type='html'>Dude, last week was hellacious! Ugh! Where to start...? I woke up on Monday with tonsils so swollen that drinking water hurt. Woke up Tuesday covered head to toe in red spots and itchier than I think I have ever been in my life. I came into work, my boss took one look at me and said, "Yeah...go away and get to the doctor. Whatever you've got...I don't want it." Turns out I had strep throat, so 7 days into my antibiotics I'm doing much better, thanks for asking. &lt;br /&gt;Wednesday was pretty uneventful. &lt;br /&gt;Thursday, we had the scare of our lives. I was at work, went to the bathroom (because that's what pregnant women do...a lot) and I noticed blood...enough to make me totally freak out. I managed to call the doctor and my boss before I totally lost it. Poor Carl, by the time I called him I was hysterical. I was absolutely certain that I was losing the baby. The doctor wanted me to come in right away, so I headed home to get Carl and zip over to the doctors' office. While in the car I called my bestie, Carla, who managed to calm me down because she's amazing and that's what amazing people do for their hysterical best friends. By the time I got home I was in a complete daze. I understand that miscarriages happen every day, and that most women have at least one in their lifetime. But you never actually think it'll happen to you. At least I didn't. We get to the doctor (which is my new OB that I'd never been to before, so I had no idea where it was...turns out there are 7 OB/GYNs in the same building and in my state of panic I forgot my doctor's name, so here I am completely panicked running into every OB's office asking if I'm in their computer...not my brightest moment) and long story short, they check me out and everything's okay. WHEW! I don't think I have ever been so relieved in my life! EVER! I could've hugged my doctor, but those pesky stirrups were in the way! Bahahaha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4807259830354419849?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4807259830354419849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-freakin-week.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4807259830354419849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4807259830354419849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-freakin-week.html' title='What a freakin&apos; week!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5908958907510622824</id><published>2011-03-08T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-08T13:58:49.422-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes, we know what caused it. Sheez.</title><content type='html'>I've been getting that stupid response to my announcing my 3rd pregnancy on an all-too regular basis. "Have you guys figured out what's causing that yet?" Har-har-har. That made me wonder, though...when did it become so unusual for people to have more than 2 kids? At what point did society come to decide that 2 kids was the "norm?" Not too long ago it was totally common and accepted for families to consist of 4 or more children. When did that change? Is it because we're no longer breeding helpers for the family farm? I just don't understand. Not only that, but why is it anyone's concern but mine and my husband's how many kids we have? I am not some leech of society sitting at home popping out babies and collecting my welfare check so I can blow it on booze and cigarettes. I work. My husband works. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;Alright, thanks for letting me vent. Now onto the fam: &lt;br /&gt;Carl IV's 4th birthday was yesterday. *I'm on the verge of tears just typing that sentance...stupid hormones.* I cannot believe that he's 4! That's the official age of "little boy" not "toddler" or "baby", but "little boy." I can't think about it too long or it freaks me out. My co-worker told me today, "Just think...this time next year you'll be signing him up for kindergarten!" I just looked at her slack-jawed. Kindergarten?! My baby?! Oh, my goodness. Okay, I have to change the subject before the reality of that sets in and I start sobbing. *deep, cleansing breath* We had Carl IV's b-day party at our place on Saturday, and it was pretty low-key. Some family, some friends...no big. I did, however, make the cake this year. I have to say, I was pretty impressed. I'm no Chef Duff (Charm City Cakes reference), but it could've been worse. &lt;br /&gt;Paige is fully invested in being the poster-child for two-year-olds across the world. Tantrums over nonsense one minute, random hugs and kisses the next. The girl's a whacko. She's pretty funny, though. I've started mentioning to the kids that we're going to have another baby soon and every time she hears me say that "Mommy's going to have a baby," she runs off, grabs a doll and hands it to me and says, "Mommy have baby!" So, I'm thinking she doesn't really get it. It's so weird to think that she's older now than Carl was when she was born. And here I go again, running face-first into the fact that I'm going to have 3 children under the age of 5 before the end of the year. Yowza. I have to go splash some water on my face. And maybe lie down. And take some deep breaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5908958907510622824?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5908958907510622824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/yes-we-know-what-caused-it-sheez.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5908958907510622824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5908958907510622824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/yes-we-know-what-caused-it-sheez.html' title='Yes, we know what caused it. Sheez.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8018095390390375647</id><published>2011-03-02T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T07:34:23.750-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...and Reality Sets In</title><content type='html'>I just made my first OB appointment, and with that one 2 minute phone call reality hit. I'm going to have another baby! I am going to be a mother of 3 kids. None of which will be over the age of 5 anytime soon. Aaaaaaaaak! We have to designate one of our rooms as a nursery again. I have to deal with midnight feedings and exploding diapers again at 2am. Have I lost my mind?! What were we thinking?! Alright, Dee...calm down. Remember all the good things about new babies. 2 am feedings are much more bearable when your sniffing your baby's head. Ahhhh...I miss that smell. All I get from sniffing the kids' heads now is sweat and whatever food is left in Paige's hair. Let's not forget tiny baby&amp;nbsp;feet and hands. I love baby feet. Okay, I'm starting to feel a little better. Plus, if I think about things rationally, I've always wanted to have my kids close in age. I'd rather have complete chaos for 5-ish years and be done with it then get acustomed to a normal routine and have to return to chaos again with a new baby. Right?! That's rational. Right?! For God's sake, just tell me I'm right! *picture me with head between my knees taking deep breaths*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8018095390390375647?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8018095390390375647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-reality-sets-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8018095390390375647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8018095390390375647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-reality-sets-in.html' title='...and Reality Sets In'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1614364970574286407</id><published>2011-02-28T08:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T08:37:26.001-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, boy. Here we go again.</title><content type='html'>It's official. I'm pregnant again. I'm excited and terrified at the same time. Excited because, well, baby! Nervous because now we'll be outnumbered. Excited because...awww...baby! Nervous because my kids are smart and know how to organize against us already. Wish us luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1614364970574286407?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1614364970574286407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/oh-boy-here-we-go-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1614364970574286407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1614364970574286407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/oh-boy-here-we-go-again.html' title='Oh, boy. Here we go again.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7803996827851515128</id><published>2011-02-22T06:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-22T06:51:01.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayers</title><content type='html'>There was another severe earthquake in New Zealand today. The Christchurch area is devestated and at least 65 are dead. Please, regardless of your creed or religion, pray for the victims, their families, and all affected by this horrible disaster. If you would like to donate to the New Zealand Red Cross simply click on the following link:&amp;nbsp; &lt;a href="http://www.redcross.org.nz/donate"&gt;http://www.redcross.org.nz/donate&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for me and my family, my aunt Mary is a good 4-5 hours from Christchurch, so thank you God for the peace of mind that I have knowing that she's okay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7803996827851515128?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7803996827851515128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/prayers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7803996827851515128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7803996827851515128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/prayers.html' title='Prayers'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-805866513285723322</id><published>2011-02-21T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T09:55:06.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>39.</title><content type='html'>I knew it. I knew the second I admitted how happy I was that spring had arrived that nature would kick me in the pants! Last Friday, we had temperatures about 70°F. Today, 39°...and it snowed last night...and it's supposed to snow again tonight. Really? It's just wrong. You can't tease me with sunshine, open your windows weather and then snow again. At least not within 72 hours. &lt;br /&gt;What did we do this weekend...? Oh, yeah. Not a lot. Friday night my friend Kim had a little get-together at a local Irish restaurant for drinks to celebrate her 30th birthday (Happy birthday, Kimber!). I was slapped in the face with how very different things are for me now than, say, 6 years ago. 6 years ago, I would've been out all night, whooo!-ing the whole time, talking people into buying the birthday girl shots. Last Friday, I had 2 beers and was ready to go to sleep...by 10:00. My 23 year old self is so ashamed. I can practically see her shaking her head. Sorry, me 6 years ago...I have 2 kids and wake up at 5:00am on weekdays. I can't hang with you anymore. *yawn*&lt;br /&gt;Saturday Carls III &amp;amp; IV along with Paige got haircuts. Kids getting haircuts = stressful afternoon. Carl IV is so ticklish that he sits in the chair with his shoulders shrugged up to his earlobes, and Paige is...how can I put this nicely? I can't. She's 2-years-old. Enough said. So, she was all cranky and turning her head everywhere except where it was supposed to be. I ended up practically putting the girl in a headlock so the lady could cut her hair. Add to this that they all 3 went within 5 minutes of each other, so I'm keeping track of both kids while Carl III is getting his hair cut. Whew! Pretty exhausting afternoon. Lame? Yeah...probably. But exhausting all the same. &lt;br /&gt;I just looked at a calendar and realized that in 2 weeks my little man is turning 4. Uhhh...what?! When did this happen? If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go weep in the corner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-805866513285723322?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/805866513285723322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/39.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/805866513285723322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/805866513285723322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/39.html' title='39.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-563663623801366546</id><published>2011-02-18T13:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T13:09:15.282-08:00</updated><title type='text'>72!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>72°!!! Can you believe it?! This time last year we were digging out from 4 feet of snow, and right now it is 72&lt;strong&gt;°&lt;/strong&gt;!! Ahhh...spring is in the air. I can see grass. Birds are chirping. The sun is shining, and not glaring off of mounds of snow. What a beautiful day. And here I sit...at work...inside...staring longingly out the window. *sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/e_A2pQHK4Jc/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e_A2pQHK4Jc&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e_A2pQHK4Jc&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-563663623801366546?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/563663623801366546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/72.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/563663623801366546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/563663623801366546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/72.html' title='72!!!!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1564032074256072474</id><published>2011-02-16T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T10:44:28.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing for a Change</title><content type='html'>I've been in a little bit of a funk lately. Not a bad mood. Just a funk. No rhyme or reason, just happens sometimes. Well, I stumbled across this amazing organization called 'Playing for a Change' on YouTube. I think I'm coming out of my funk...because as long as things like this exist in the world, things aren't so bad.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://3.gvt0.com/vi/nh7YyoDD138/0.jpg"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/nh7YyoDD138&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" /&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /&gt;&lt;embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/nh7YyoDD138&amp;fs=1&amp;source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1564032074256072474?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1564032074256072474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/playing-for-change.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1564032074256072474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1564032074256072474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/playing-for-change.html' title='Playing for a Change'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8582256038414312882</id><published>2011-02-15T12:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T12:08:19.559-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Normal is weird...in my family, at least.</title><content type='html'>Paige's 2-year-old well visit was today, and aside from the hysterics following her immunizations, it went beautifully. She is strangely "normal." Let me explain: My son was, until very recently, in the 99th percentile for everything. Head circumference? You betcha. Height? Yep. Weight? The kid was over 10 pounds at birth...what do you think? So, when I get the little sheet that shows where Paige fit into the spectrum, I'm so used to looking to the top that it always shocks me a little to see how neatly she fits into the normal range. She's in the 50-75 percentile in everything. The girl is, physically at least, average. Luckily she's got the wack-a-doo tendencies that help her fit in at home!&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8582256038414312882?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8582256038414312882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/normal-is-weirdin-my-family-at-least.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8582256038414312882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8582256038414312882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/normal-is-weirdin-my-family-at-least.html' title='Normal is weird...in my family, at least.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-687041238708103920</id><published>2011-02-14T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T07:47:24.532-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who are you?</title><content type='html'>If you've never noticed before, there is a little thingy on the side of the screen that shows whenever someone visits my blog. It uses some marvel of technology to detect where you are and shows the city/state/country and when you stopped by. Most of the time I can figure out who goes along with where, but there are a few that have just been driving me bonkers because, try as I might, I cannot think of someone that I know from..wherever. Example: Plainfield, Illinois...who are you? I know people in Chicago, but I Googled Plainfield, and it's not so close to Chicago. It's driving me nuts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-687041238708103920?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/687041238708103920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/who-are-you.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/687041238708103920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/687041238708103920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/who-are-you.html' title='Who are you?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1131653536469537498</id><published>2011-02-11T10:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T10:37:51.004-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pay It Forward</title><content type='html'>Every day on my drive to work I pass countless school bus stops. I always look (and get a little teary) imagining my kids waiting there, and sneering at the idiot parents that are too lazy to walk their kids to the bus stop and are sitting in their SUVs with the heat running wasting all kinds of gas and polluting our air more than necessary..but I digress. I pass a lot of bus stops. Right. Well, this morning at one of these bus stops there was a boy, probably in 5th grade (he was really tall, and I know they're elementary schoolers because some of them are wearing backpacks that are bigger than them!), standing at the bus stop smiling and waving at every single car that drove by. People were honking and waving. It just made me smile. Then it got me thinking...if something as simple as a wave can make someone smile, why is it so unusual for things like that to happen? Classic example: Wawa (for those of you that don't live in the PA area, this is like a Tom Thumb with a sandwich shop inside...they're fabulous. I fully intend to open one on Pensacola Beach, make my millions, and retire young.) I always hold the door if someone is coming out while I'm going in or vice versa. People always look so shocked and are ridiculously grateful at this simple gesture. Have we as a society become so self-centered that holding the door for someone is worthy of such thanks? That's just sad. So, I challenge you, cyber-stalkers, to commit some random acts of kindness this weekend. Let that person trying to merge into traffic get in&amp;nbsp;front of you. Hold the door for the person behind you (even if it means standing there for a second or two). Smile at a stranger. You never know how terrible that person's day may have been up to that moment...you could be the high point of their day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1131653536469537498?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1131653536469537498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/pay-it-forward.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1131653536469537498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1131653536469537498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/pay-it-forward.html' title='Pay It Forward'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2869810478044875538</id><published>2011-02-10T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T12:30:07.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Indigo Child</title><content type='html'>I was chatting with my mom online yesterday, and she was complimenting me on my blog being so entertaining (Thanks, Mom!), and she asked if I had ever heard the term "Indigo Child." I hadn't so I immediately Googled it and did a little reading. I am so flattered! My mom put it very aptly as a "flower child...with attitude." I love that! Upon doing a little more reading on the term, though, I found that more often than not, children that were considered "Indigo" by their parents actually tested positive for ADHD. That got me thinking...how can they accurately test something like that? As the parent of 2 VERY active and whacky children, I'm beginning to worry that some teacher along the way is going to say that one of them is "hyperactive" and try to have me medicate my kid. I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; don't like that idea. I've known kids (and adults) that were on riddalin (sp?) and aderol, and I have to say, I'd rather have a total whack-a-doo kid than the doped up zombie that results from medication. I feel like (especially in recent years) any time a kid acts up in school, they're labled as hyperactive or ADD. Umm...maybe you suck as a teacher and need to work on keeping your students' attention? It's a possibility, am I right? These are the things that haunt me at night now that I'm a parent. That and the fear that my son will be a bully, my daughter will be a snob, or the opposite of those 2 things. Parenthood is stressful, even when the little punks are asleep. &lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the little punks, Carl IV had his Valentine's Day party at school today, so I'm sure he'll be all strung out from having eaten nothing but lolipops and conversation hearts all day. God, help me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2869810478044875538?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2869810478044875538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/indigo-child.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2869810478044875538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2869810478044875538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/indigo-child.html' title='Indigo Child'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2516620998657640631</id><published>2011-02-09T05:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T05:58:51.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration</title><content type='html'>Hi, can you hear me? Yeah, way down here. Stuck between a rock and a hard place? Yeah, I'm there. *sigh* I am faced with a pretty frustrating and difficult decision right now. I'm thinking of putting the kids in normal daycare instead of paying Carl's mom to do it. I just feel like they need more structure than they're getting there, but since she's family it's kind of hard&amp;nbsp;for me to be like, "Hey. Quit letting them run around like wild monkeys and make them sit down and do stuff." Plus, she's watching them for SO very cheap, I just feel awkward complaining, you know? My biggest frustration is her constant chauffeuring of Carl's brother, Adam. At least once a week Debbie is driving Adam to a doctor's appointment, or to check in with his parole officer, or to get a prescription filled...it goes on and on. This results in my kids being stuck in the car for, usually, at least a couple of hours. That's not fair. Even if this trip falls during nap time, nobody sleeps right in a car. So, this results in a crappy day for the kids which turns into a crappy evening (because they didn't get a proper nap and have been trapped in a car for ages), which leaves Carl III and me with two exhausted cranky kids by 5:00. It screws up everyone's day...UGH! Frustration! Frustration! Frustration! So, now I'm thinking it would be less frustrating and more beneficial to the kids if they were in a classroom environment. The tough part is finding a daycare that doesn't cost an arm and a leg. Wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2516620998657640631?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2516620998657640631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/frustration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2516620998657640631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2516620998657640631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/frustration.html' title='Frustration'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8109770651578100264</id><published>2011-02-04T09:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T09:12:18.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the Little Things</title><content type='html'>One of the fabulous things about our new house is the fact that it has 3 bathrooms. 3! Full! Bathrooms! Finally, I can pee in peace! I can shower without the inevitable, "I gotta pooooooop!!!" I don't have to worry if there's pee on the seat! One thing that I didn't think of moving from a 1 bathroom house to a 3 bathroom house is the fact that we only had 1 soap dispenser. So, for the past few days, we've just been using a bar of soap in the kids' bathroom and kept the soap dispenser in ours (selfish? Maybe. But, hey. We pay the bills. The least we deserve is liquid soap, am I right?). Yesterday on my lunch break I zipped up to Target to grab a couple of 99 cent Softsoap things, and we'll just refill them as needed. Holy cow. To hear my son's reaction to the announcement that he had his own liquid soap, you would've thought he'd just found out that Spiderman was moving in next door! "WHOA! My own soap?! For my bafwoom?! Mom, fank you sooo much! That is soooo cool! PAIGE! Woook! Mom got us our vewy own soap for our bafwoom! Wanna go wash our hands?! Come on, let's go wash our hands!" That kid cracks me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8109770651578100264?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8109770651578100264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/its-little-things.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8109770651578100264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8109770651578100264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/its-little-things.html' title='It&apos;s the Little Things'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4958185069942384862</id><published>2011-02-03T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T09:45:10.519-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Worst Week...probably EVER</title><content type='html'>If you remember correctly, we moved into our new house over the weekend. The move went relatively smoothly, thank God. The downside was that we had to move on Sunday, and both Carl and I had to work on Monday, so most of our stuff is still jammed into boxes which are jammed into any available space in the house. This makes getting myself and 2 children ready to leave the house in the morning a challenge, to say the least. I'm digging around trying to find diapers one minute, mascara the next, and Carl's backpack the next. Whew. It's exhausting being a mom. Anywho, we're moved in and the place is great. The week started to go downhill on Monday night. Well, that's not true...Sunday night was a little rough for Carl III and I because we're so used to all the noise from our old house that trying to sleep in the deafening silence at our new house was practically impossible. But, whatev...both kids slept beautifully and I was relieved that at least they hadn't been flipping out at sleeping in a new place. Or so I thought. Turns out Carl IV was lulling me into contentment only to lose his freakin' mind every night since then. "MOM!! MOM!! Don't go! It's so dark!" Me: "Dude, it is SO not dark. You have 2 night lights and I left the light in the bathroom on." Carl IV: "MOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!! Pwease can I have a dwink? I'm very firsty!" Me:"Grrrr. Alright. Stay in bed. I will get you a drink. Then I will give you a hug. Then you will put your head down and not make another sound. Understand?!" Carl IV: (sobbing) "Oh-tay." Me: (returning to the room with water) "Alright, man. I love you. Good night." Carl IV: "But...but...MOOOOOOOM! I want Daddy! I want to tell Daddy good night!" Me: " DUDE! You told Daddy good night." Carl IV: "But, MOOOOOOOM!" Repeat for another 15 minutes until I have to threaten to turn off his nightlights so he can see what "so dark" really looks like.&amp;nbsp; UGH! Meanwhile, Paige is upstairs snoozing away. Aren't they supposed to get better at bedtime as they get older? Where did I go wrong with the boy, I wonder? It probably all goes back to me rocking him to sleep when he was a baby. Ah, well. Live and learn, right? &lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, we had an ice storm blow through the region. Not at all fun. Our power went out at 4:45am causing both kids to wake up in hysterics because it was...well..."so dark." So, we snuggled together in our bed and tried to fall back asleep. Hmph. Have you ever shared a bed with a 2 year old and almost 4 year old? Not comfy. Not comfy at all. Eventually we all moved downstairs to cuddle up on the couch, where Paige passed out for about an hour. Carl III left for work thinking that he would probably be sent home in a matter of 2 hours. WRONG! He worked until almost 11pm! Our power was out until 3:30pm. I was outnumber. And cold. And had hurt my back by being outrageously smart and going outside to check how the conditions were...turns out they were icy enough to make me fall.&amp;nbsp; Stupid ice. So, I'm practically crippled, chasing after 2 kids, it's cold, and oh, yeah. The cable guy was there to activate our service at the new house. All in all, not a good day. I was SO very ready for bedtime. Until I realized that I would be flying solo at bedtime because Carl III was still at work. So, I had to face the "But, MOooooooom!" all alone. *Groan!* &lt;br /&gt;To top it all off, we had no hot water this morning. I'm guessing the pilot light went out on the water heater when we lost power, so hopefully it's an easy fix. I had to take a shower at my mother-in-laws this morning before work. I don't care who you are...getting ready for the day somewhere other than your house...it just throws off your whole day. So, here I sit with "I forgot my round brush" hair. Is it Saturday yet? Wait, what?! It's supposed to snow again on Saturday? Great. Of course it is. Because Saturday is still part of this horrendous week. Alright, Sunday. I have high expectations. Don't let me down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4958185069942384862?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4958185069942384862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/worst-weekprobably-ever.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4958185069942384862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4958185069942384862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/02/worst-weekprobably-ever.html' title='The Worst Week...probably EVER'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7760874931862585494</id><published>2011-01-28T07:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T07:28:41.174-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Days!</title><content type='html'>From Wednesday morning to Thursday the Philadelphia area got 12"-18" of snow dumped. I'm thinking Oaks (where we live) was closer to the 18" side of that spectrum. Oi! My kids woke up and it was all I could do to keep them from running out in their pajamas to roll around in it! This massive storm has put a bit of a kink in our moving plans for this weekend. Now, instead of moving on Saturday we'll be doing everything on Sunday. Fingers crossed for a smooth, glitch-free move!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7760874931862585494?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7760874931862585494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/snow-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7760874931862585494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7760874931862585494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/snow-days.html' title='Snow Days!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7239632745543343778</id><published>2011-01-26T11:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T11:17:34.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My, How They've Grown!</title><content type='html'>It's a horrendous snow day in Southeastern PA, and I sit here at work wondering why I got out of bed this morning to sit here at a desk doing absolutely nothing since everyone obviously assumes we're closed. So, I started flipping through my old pictures on Facebook and found this treasure taken exactly one year ago today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TUBzAJCU-6I/AAAAAAAAALM/ScX7ZUMXa_c/s1600/weirdos.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" s5="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TUBzAJCU-6I/AAAAAAAAALM/ScX7ZUMXa_c/s320/weirdos.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at Paige's face! She's such a baby in this picture! And Carl can't even fit in those cabinets anymore! WAAAaaaaaaaah!!! When did my little babies get all grown up? (Shut up. I know they're not "grown up" but by comparison to this photo, they're enormous now!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7239632745543343778?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7239632745543343778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-how-theyve-grown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7239632745543343778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7239632745543343778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-how-theyve-grown.html' title='My, How They&apos;ve Grown!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TUBzAJCU-6I/AAAAAAAAALM/ScX7ZUMXa_c/s72-c/weirdos.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2648160237754361290</id><published>2011-01-25T06:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T06:05:47.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's That Smell?</title><content type='html'>As a parent, is there anything worse than have both of your children sick with a stomach bug at the same time? Most would answer with a resounding, "No!" Alas, most would be mistaken. The worse thing is having both parents stricken down with said stomach bug as well. Ugh! This is what happened at Casa de Rudegeair last Thursday and Friday. Fortunately, when both kids were really bad Carl III and I were okay, but on Friday when they started to recover we were down for the count. (On that note, why aren't my kids as sympathetic when I'm sick as I am when they are? The rude little punks still wanted me to prepare them meals while I was lying on the couch groaning in agony! How rude.)&lt;br /&gt;It seems that this bug has cleared out of our home, thankfully...except for a few lingering effects. For one, we are all so gassy it's absurd! (Sorry to share, but honestly! It's ridiculous!) While Carl IV and I are mostly burpy, Carl III and Paige are not so considerate. Carl IV is constantly asking, "Whew! Whassat smell?!" Yeah, that's your family, pal. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;On a less disgusting note, we're moving this weekend! Yay! I haven't posted anything before this because nothing was finalized until Sunday and I didn't want to jinx it! The new house is almost 3,000 square feet, has 3 bathrooms, and...wait for it...a DISHWASHER!!!! WHOOOOOOO! All this, and $100 less per month than we're paying now?! Hallelujah! Now, if I can just keep from killing Carl III in the process of moving, we'll be all set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2648160237754361290?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2648160237754361290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/whats-that-smell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2648160237754361290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2648160237754361290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/whats-that-smell.html' title='What&apos;s That Smell?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2804357944401686168</id><published>2011-01-21T07:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T07:28:06.724-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuck</title><content type='html'>The first stomach bug of the year has hit the Rudegeair household. Paige got it first, but fortunately she's still in diapers, so things were...for lack of a better word...contained, and she seemed to snap out of it pretty quickly. Carl IV on the other hand threw up in his bed twice Wednesday night. Poor little guy. He gets so freaked out, and wants nothing more than for me to cuddle him and tell him it's okay. As fantastically awesome as I am, I have to draw the line at cuddling with a vomit-covered 3 year old. So, I wrapped the stinky guy in a towel and dumped him in the bathtub to hose him down...then I cuddled the heck out of my not-so-stinky guy. Poor kid. To make matters worse, apparently my 'Super Mom' germ shield is malfunctioning, because my stomach has been a little sketchy all morning. Ugh. I absolutely DESPISE getting sick. Honestly, before I had kids, I could probably count the number of times I threw up on one hand. Ever since the little carrier monkies came into the picture I get a stomach bug at least once a year! Not cool. Not cool at all. Now, if you will excuse me I'm going to go sip some Gatorade and hang my head between my knees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2804357944401686168?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2804357944401686168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/yuck.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2804357944401686168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2804357944401686168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/yuck.html' title='Yuck'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5347400334156632721</id><published>2011-01-18T09:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T09:11:21.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wait...What?</title><content type='html'>I'll admit it...I don't entirely understand the way my mind works. My train of thought derails on a regular basis, and I jump from topic to topic at random. For example: This morning while I'm drying my hair I start to think about language barriers (Why, you ask? No idea.). Then, I start to think of the story of Babel from the bible and how nice it would have been before those ding-a-lings screwed everything up and the entire planet spoke one language (on that note: I wonder what language everyone spoke. SEE?! There I go again. Where was I?). Ah, yes. Then I started to think, hey...I wonder if language barriers apply to animals. As we all know animals have a way of communicating (I don't know exactly how, but that's neither here nor there.), but I can't help but wonder if you had an elephant from Africa in the same room as an elephant from Asia would they be able to "talk?" One of those things that make you go "Hmmmmm" right?! &lt;br /&gt;Anywho, I just thought I would share my weird psyche with the web. Happy Tuesday. I hope your weather is better than ours right now. The words "Wintry Mix" were used FAR too often in the forecast this week. Pray for safe commutes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5347400334156632721?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5347400334156632721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/waitwhat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5347400334156632721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5347400334156632721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/waitwhat.html' title='Wait...What?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2303566848389307955</id><published>2011-01-17T07:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T07:37:18.590-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Skype</title><content type='html'>If you haven't yet discovered Skype, let me tell you, it is the best thing EVER! I got to web chat with my sister, Alie, and my niece, Bobbi yesterday afternoon. I absolutely LOVE it! Alie and I have discovered a pleasant side-effect of web chatting, too. Aparently it has a mind-numbing effect on small children. The kids will be chattering away like rabid hyenas and the second they see someone on the computer talking to them, they freeze. It's fabulous! &lt;br /&gt;Saturday night was Leah's graduation party, and that was the best time I have had in a ages. I absolutely love our family up here. Everyone was dancing, laughing, just having a good time. &lt;br /&gt;I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a little progress in the big changes we have coming our way (details to follow once everything's set in stone...I don't want to jix myself!), so any positive thoughts or prayers sent our way would be greatly appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2303566848389307955?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2303566848389307955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/skype.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2303566848389307955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2303566848389307955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/skype.html' title='Skype'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8255665990578669874</id><published>2011-01-14T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T06:49:28.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Answer</title><content type='html'>Carl and I get looks every once in a while that just screams, "What are those two doing together?!" I mean, let's face it when you have a guy that looks like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBh17ZuZ2I/AAAAAAAAALA/BSrZJO1Sj9s/s1600/carldr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBh17ZuZ2I/AAAAAAAAALA/BSrZJO1Sj9s/s320/carldr.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Walking next to a girl that looks so sweet and normal like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBh75h6zbI/AAAAAAAAALE/YpmwMtOzVvQ/s1600/dee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBh75h6zbI/AAAAAAAAALE/YpmwMtOzVvQ/s1600/dee.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;...people wonder. Well, I have the answer. The reason is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBiDgDuWPI/AAAAAAAAALI/GojY_JNwHKA/s1600/love.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBiDgDuWPI/AAAAAAAAALI/GojY_JNwHKA/s1600/love.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;(In case you can't read it, it says "I love you, Dee." My husband, at 5am this morning decided to do something as adorable as leave me a note in the frost on the back door just to brighten my day. How freakin' sweet is that?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8255665990578669874?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8255665990578669874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/answer.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8255665990578669874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8255665990578669874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/answer.html' title='The Answer'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TTBh17ZuZ2I/AAAAAAAAALA/BSrZJO1Sj9s/s72-c/carldr.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2799363912921610268</id><published>2011-01-13T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T12:26:02.226-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Thoughts</title><content type='html'>For some reason I have my deepest thoughts in the shower. Possibly because it's the only time that I can hear myself think. Who knows? Maybe I'm having incredibly deep and meaninful thoughts 24/7, but they're being drowned out by a chorus of, "MOM"s and "She pushed me!"s. Anywho, this morning in the shower I was thinking about prayer and church (see my post re: New Years Resolutions) and how I can start to teach my kids about prayer at times other than saying grace before dinner. Obviously, saying your prayers at bedtime is a good place to start. Then I got to thinking about how I used to say my prayers when I was a kid. I remember my sister and I sitting in her bed at night and saying our prayers, and mine always resembled a whish list. A lot of "I want..." and "Please help me get..." That made me think...when's the last time you said thank you to God for all of the things you DO get and all of the good things that DO happen to you? We, as a society, focus so much on when things don't go our way and completely forget to be thankful for the things we do have. I am trying to be a bit more positive this year, and that got me thinking of all of the things that I usually whine/complain about and how I can twist them to see the bright side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2799363912921610268?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2799363912921610268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/deep-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2799363912921610268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2799363912921610268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/deep-thoughts.html' title='Deep Thoughts'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1225591009283091422</id><published>2011-01-11T13:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T13:18:24.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW DAY!</title><content type='html'>We are mere moments away from the snow starting to fall and I'm stuck at work. Sheesh! On the bright side, I've already told my boss that there is absolutely no way that I am driving through 8-12 inches of snow to get here tomorrow, so I have a snow day! Whoo-hoo! Carl IV has made me promise to go sledding this year, so the pictures should be interesting. I'll post again tomorrow. Wish me luck!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1225591009283091422?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1225591009283091422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/snooooooooooooooooooooow-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1225591009283091422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1225591009283091422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/snooooooooooooooooooooow-day.html' title='SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW DAY!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2561699818373503283</id><published>2011-01-10T06:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T06:23:14.235-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miracles DO Happen!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was one of those days that made me remember why I want more kids. We went to church and my children were fantastic! Fan-freakin'-tastic! After that Carl IV and I headed out to get haircuts, and we had lunch at McDonald's. I'm telling you, I don't know what we did differently yesterday, but the two monsters were so good! *deep sigh of relief* We needed a day like that. &lt;br /&gt;Another fabulous thing: My car is fine! Whew! Turns out the cap to something under the hood wasn't screwed on tightly enough. Carl took a gander under the hood yesterday and just tightened everything up, and the ol' mom-mobile is purring like a kitten now! Whoo-hoo! &lt;br /&gt;We're supposed to get anywhere between 6-12" of snow Tuesday night into Wednesday, so please pray for my sanity. As much as I would absolutely love a snow day, there are few things more maddening than trying to keep a two- and three-year-old entertained while cooped up for 24+ hours. *shudder* Just thinking about it is enough to terrify me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2561699818373503283?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2561699818373503283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/miracles-do-happen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2561699818373503283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2561699818373503283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/miracles-do-happen.html' title='Miracles DO Happen!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7847612177178458945</id><published>2011-01-08T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-08T14:08:37.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cutting Corners</title><content type='html'>In an attempt to save some money and cut back on unnecessary expenses I have recently stopped going to get certain cosmetic grooming done professionally. I started plucking my eyebrows instead of getting them waxed, I wait a lot longer between haircuts than I used to, I haven't gotten a pedicure since my birthday...&lt;br /&gt;Well, ladies, take it from me. The one thing that you ABSOLUTELY want to spend the $40 on is a bikini wax. I stupidly thought, "Hey...I've had 2 kids. How hard can it be to give myself a bikini wax?" The answer: Very. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorely yours, &lt;br /&gt;Dee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.-Sorry to any guys that might be reading this, but face it, guys...we don't roll out of bed looking stunning. You knew these things happened. Sorry to rub it in your face, though.&amp;nbsp; :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7847612177178458945?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7847612177178458945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/cutting-corners.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7847612177178458945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7847612177178458945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/cutting-corners.html' title='Cutting Corners'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4254390317297362390</id><published>2011-01-07T05:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T05:49:41.304-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow!</title><content type='html'>Here's a little tip for all employers out there: If you want your employees to not complain about coming to work on snowy days, try plowing the stinkin' parking lot! Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TScZQsDrLgI/AAAAAAAAAK8/JMTjaro0L-I/s1600/snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TScZQsDrLgI/AAAAAAAAAK8/JMTjaro0L-I/s1600/snow.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, I can't help but get a little tired of hearing people complain constantly when it snows. Like today, we're supposed to get a whopping 2-4 inches, and people are whining like it's a blizzard! Hello! You live in Pennsylvania! It snows here! Guess what...it'll probably snow again before the winter's over, and it'll probably do it all over again next year. I lived in Florida for 18 years. I didn't like the heat and I really didn't like the hurricanes, so guess what I did. I moved. If you don't like the snow/cold, please quit complaining and do something about it. Otherwise, shut up. You're making me cranky. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4254390317297362390?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4254390317297362390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/snow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4254390317297362390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4254390317297362390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/snow.html' title='Snow!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TScZQsDrLgI/AAAAAAAAAK8/JMTjaro0L-I/s72-c/snow.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-8942540669177820680</id><published>2011-01-06T05:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T05:48:16.449-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aw, crap.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TSXHbQ-uuTI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5uYBaffDHNQ/s1600/engine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TSXHbQ-uuTI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5uYBaffDHNQ/s1600/engine.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are few sights that make me feel as helpless as this. The Check Engine light in my car came on this morning. I really hate that light. A lot. It not only means that I have to call the mechanic and try to get in there sometime this century, but I'm going to be without a car for at least a day, and with my luck it's a problem that costs a small fortune to repair. Stupid light. &lt;br /&gt;Don't tell Carl I said this, but I think the fact that this stupid light popped up 3 days after he changed my oil himself might be a little more than a coincidence. Shhh. That'll be our little secret.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-8942540669177820680?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/8942540669177820680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/aw-crap.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8942540669177820680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/8942540669177820680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/aw-crap.html' title='Aw, crap.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TSXHbQ-uuTI/AAAAAAAAAK4/5uYBaffDHNQ/s72-c/engine.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7279287158824052181</id><published>2011-01-05T05:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T05:53:12.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Footies!</title><content type='html'>Is there anything in the world more adorable than kids in footie pjs? I think not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TSR3QvyhLJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/tIeseHnUwoA/s1600/P1051821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TSR3QvyhLJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/tIeseHnUwoA/s320/P1051821.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note: When exactly does it become socially unaccepted to wear footies? Is 10 years old too old for footies? 13? 29? ...and why is that? I would absolutely LOVE some nice footie jammies! That's it. I'm hitting the internet to find some adult footies for myself...and probably Carl. I don't want to look like a weirdo alone.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7279287158824052181?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7279287158824052181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/footies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7279287158824052181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7279287158824052181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/footies.html' title='Footies!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TSR3QvyhLJI/AAAAAAAAAK0/tIeseHnUwoA/s72-c/P1051821.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3543714984704448328</id><published>2011-01-04T06:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T06:01:38.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year Resolutions</title><content type='html'>1) To post something on here almost every day. I've recently gotten sucked into another blog, The Pioneer Woman, and I am in absolute awe at the moments she has captured by posting every single day. Sometimes something as small as a picture, but it's absolutely fascinating to flip through and see how every day has been documented. That's my mission. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) To start running...again. See, I was doing SO well with running. Then Carl and I attended a wedding in October, and I thought it would be a good idea to borrow my sister-in-law's super sexy, sky-high, leopard print heels. Silly me. You would think that after 29 years I would have learned that I am disturbingly clumsy. I lost my balance several times that night. Once while standing completely still. I was talking to a friend (thankfully the only person around to witness this shamefully embarrassing display of my lack of grace) and I just started teetering to the side. Was there a strong gust of wind? Nope. Just God saying, "Hmm...where is that Dee? Ahh...there she is! &lt;flick!&gt;" *sigh* Anywho, long story short, I lost my balance on the dance floor (because what's the fun of falling in, say, the bathroom without 250 witnesses?), rolled my ankle, and haven't been running since. But, I'm feeling like my foot could take it now, plus I got some really nice Nike running pants for Christmas, so I'm starting again next Monday! Wish me luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Regardless of how late I was out on Saturday night or how horrendous my children are behaving, I will drag my family to mass EVERY SUNDAY. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now that I've filled you in on my plans for 2011, I have to relay to you the silliness that is my 3 1/2 year old's sense of humor. This morning while I'm helping him put on his shoes he looks at me and says, "Knock, knock!" &lt;br /&gt;Yay! I love cheesy jokes! And if the grin that was spread across that mischievous face of his was any indication, this was going to be a doosie! "Who's there?"&lt;br /&gt;"Pee-Pee"&lt;br /&gt;Uh-oh. I think I see where this is going..."Pee-Pee Who?"&lt;br /&gt;"Pee-pee BUTT!"&amp;nbsp; And the kid collapsed on the sofa as if he'd just finished the most hysterical joke of all time.&lt;br /&gt;But it doesn't stop there. In the car on the way to drop him off at my mother-in-laws, I again hear him say, "Knock-knock!"&lt;br /&gt;"Who's there?" I ask.&lt;br /&gt;"Banana." &lt;br /&gt;Whew! Banana? This might actually be a joke. Alright, I'll bite. "Banana who?"&lt;br /&gt;"Banana BUTT! BAHAHahahahahaha!" &lt;br /&gt;*sigh* Welcome to my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3543714984704448328?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3543714984704448328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-resolutions.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3543714984704448328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3543714984704448328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-resolutions.html' title='New Year Resolutions'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7057891621150597617</id><published>2010-11-12T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T12:10:28.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yawn!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqlCrFII/AAAAAAAAAKo/biltjp6bjZs/s1600/halloween4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538753173024085122" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqlCrFII/AAAAAAAAAKo/biltjp6bjZs/s320/halloween4.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 239px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 317px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqWAAvGI/AAAAAAAAAKg/L3v71kjOXx0/s1600/halloween3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538753168986389602" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqWAAvGI/AAAAAAAAAKg/L3v71kjOXx0/s320/halloween3.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqacMIcI/AAAAAAAAAKY/79RhWfcmz_U/s1600/halloween2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538753170178318786" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqacMIcI/AAAAAAAAAKY/79RhWfcmz_U/s320/halloween2.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqJb_vfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/QlViJT4jF5w/s1600/halloween.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538753165614104050" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqJb_vfI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/QlViJT4jF5w/s320/halloween.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqEx7fBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/2DnqA9uTls0/s1600/halloween.bmp"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538753164363922450" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqEx7fBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/2DnqA9uTls0/s320/halloween.bmp" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to say, I just do not understand why Daylight Savings time is still practiced. It was GREAT when I was, say, 21, childless, and changing back to "standard time" meant another hour the club/bar was open. Now that I have children...not so much. Ya see, 3 &amp;amp; 2 year olds do not understand the concept of gaining an hour of sleep. And now that I think about it, I don't really get it, either. Does that mean that November 7 was actually 25 hours long? It sure felt like it since I had 2 kids up at 5am on a Sunday! Clearly this whole time change thing was the idea of a childless person who wanted to screw with all the parents in the world. Curse you, daylight savings inventer...curse you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright, ranting aside, it's already mid-November! I should probably post some pictures of the kids from Halloween. Here ya go...yeah, for some reason it put the pictures on the top of the post...and I'm just too lazy to figure it out right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7057891621150597617?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7057891621150597617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/11/yawn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7057891621150597617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7057891621150597617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/11/yawn.html' title='Yawn!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/TN2aqlCrFII/AAAAAAAAAKo/biltjp6bjZs/s72-c/halloween4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1243595109861239966</id><published>2010-10-15T13:04:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-15T13:36:53.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaakkkkkkkkkk!</title><content type='html'>*sigh* Sorry. I had to get that out, but I feel better now. Let's just say that the month of October has not been a good one for the members of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rudegeair&lt;/span&gt; household under 3 feet tall. Paige is 1 1/2 going on 13 and Carl's behavior is worse now than when he was 2! Whoever came up with the term "Terrible Twos" forgot to mention that they progress into "Terrible-er Threes!" All I have to say is we'd better get "Fantastic Fours" or I'm selling the boy to the circus.&lt;br /&gt;I think the most frustrating thing (but at the same time a really good thing) is that at school he's wonderful. His teachers are always commenting on what a good listener he is and how kind and patient he is with the other kids. They're saying this and I'm staring at them blankly thinking, "Do they know who my kid is, or do they just say this to all the parents?" But, no. He &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;is! Apparently there is a new little girl in his class named Katie. Katie gets really upset when she gets dropped off and kind of shies away from playing with the other kids. Carl was telling me about this one day and I told him that maybe he should try and be her friend. So yesterday, when Katie got dropped off and started crying, Carl walked up to her, took her hand, and hung out with her all day. He involved her in all the games they were playing, sat next to her at Lunch Bunch, helped her open her lunch bags (sandwich, crackers, etc.), and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;proceeded&lt;/span&gt; to draw all the kids in Lunch Bunch pictures and hand them out. Color me confused, because as soon as this boy walks through the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;threshold&lt;/span&gt; of our house, he's a totally different kid! Ah, well...I guess I should be happy that he's not a terrible monster at school, right? Right.&lt;br /&gt;Paige is in the beginning of the 2-year-old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;whiny&lt;/span&gt;, temper-tantrum, "Pick me up. Put me down. Pick me up." stage...I am not amused. I've been there, I've done that, I'm not putting up with it again. The poor girl is probably going to have abandonment issues, because whenever she throws herself on the floor in protest of whatever injustice was dealt to her, I just leave the room and don't look back. She then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;proceeds&lt;/span&gt; to follow me through the house continuously flinging herself at my feet. It got so bad one time that I just locked myself in the bathroom until she got bored and walked away! Ah, parenthood...it's so glamorous, isn't it? I've resorted to hiding from my children in the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, both kids are really excited about their Halloween costumes! Carl IV, after much debate and going back and forth ("I want to be a gorilla! No, wait...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Spiderman&lt;/span&gt;! No, Batman!") we have decided on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Optimus&lt;/span&gt; Prime...with a foam pirate sword...because no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ensemble&lt;/span&gt; would be complete without a foam pirate sword. Paige is going to be a bumble bee. Her costume is so cute I can't even stand it! I had a tutu made in black and yellow, she's going to have the striped tights, wings, a headband with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;antennae&lt;/span&gt;...I can't wait to see the whole thing put on her! I'll be sure to take oodles of pictures to post.&lt;br /&gt;This past Tuesday Carl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;IV's&lt;/span&gt; school took a trip to a local farm that has a pumpkin patch. I had 5 vacation days left for the year, so I decided to take the whole day off and go with him. So much fun! We started out with a hayride out to the pumpkin patch (which, can I just say, is absolute TORTURE for a mom with allergies whose little boy thinks throwing hay is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;hilarious&lt;/span&gt;?), then the kids ran around the pumpkin patch to pick out a pumpkin each. Okay...if you haven't seen 15 3-year-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; let loose in a pumpkin patch, add it to your Bucket List. ADORABLE! They're running around like it's the day after Thanksgiving sale at Macy's! Carl, of course, headed directly to the muddiest corner of the patch and found the perfect pumpkin...which was immediately discarded because he passed another &lt;em&gt;perfect &lt;/em&gt;pumpkin...this happened at least 7 times. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Hilarious&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Carl: picks up pumpkin..."Mommy! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Wook&lt;/span&gt; at dis one! It's so BIG!"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Wow! That is an impressive pumpkin, dude! Are you sure that's the one you want?"&lt;br /&gt;Carl: "Yep. Dis one's my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;favowite&lt;/span&gt;...I'm going to cut in eyes, and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;mouf&lt;/span&gt;, and...WAIT! I want dis one instead."&lt;br /&gt;Repeat x 6.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carl III and I celebrated our 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; wedding anniversary on October 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;! Can you believe it?! Yeah, me, neither. It is so weird to think that I am old enough to have been married for 6 years! Here's to many more! Love you, babe! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;xoxo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1243595109861239966?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1243595109861239966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkk.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1243595109861239966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1243595109861239966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/10/aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkk.html' title='AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaakkkkkkkkkk!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7919034021089301715</id><published>2010-09-22T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T13:56:00.923-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AUTUMN!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;! Today is the first official day of fall...or it will be at 11:09pm. You would think autumn in Pennsylvania would mean temperatures in the 60-70 degree range, right? Well, it has been amazing the past couple of weeks, until this week...when it is actually fall...we have highs in the 90s. &lt;sigh&gt; Mother Nature, get with the program, would you? I cannot STAND being teased with open-window weather only to return to A/C weather again! Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now that I have that off my chest, onto family stuff.&lt;br /&gt;Carl IV started nursery school again last week. The school did short days for the first week (he's still going Tuesdays and Thursdays), so yesterday was his first REAL day. This year the school's Lunch Bunch program runs an hour longer, so he'll be going from 9am - 2pm! He's thrilled! Apparently the teachers take turns running Lunch Bunch and his teacher from last year was in charge yesterday. She couldn't get over what a big guy he's turned into! She said he was the only one who set up his whole lunch by himself (opening sandwich bags, juice, etc.), and she said he has the most advanced speaking skills of the kids in his age group (and how! He gets plenty of practice!), and according to her a pretty deep voice for a 3-year-old. He's one of a class of 6 which is fantastic! Lots and lots of individual attention, which he craves now that he's a big brother.&lt;br /&gt;Paige is adjusting to flying solo during the day pretty well. The first day that Debbie dropped Carl off at school she said that Paige started skipping to the door, turned around to see if Carl was there, and totally lost her mind when she realized he wasn't coming with them! But, I think she's started to notice that it's a pretty sweet deal having your grandmother all to yourself 2 days a week! She's started talking a LOT more. I feel so bad a lot of the time because she just rambles on with such infliction in her tone and I'm just staring at her with a smile on my face thinking, "What the heck is she saying?!" She's started to get to the point that she's frustrated when we don't know what she wants, so that's super fun. &lt;---- oozing with sarcasm.&lt;br /&gt;Carl III has been back at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Asplundh&lt;/span&gt; Tree Experts for a few weeks and things are going beautifully (thank God)! His foreman seems to like him and recognizes that he knows what he's doing, so that is always nice.&lt;br /&gt;I have been sick the past week or so, so I'm trying to get motivated to run again...which is a lot like getting motivated to punch myself in the face. I can't deny it, though. When I'm running regularly I feel better, I sleep better, I'm more energized, all that crap that people tell you about exercising turns out to be true. Who knew?! I have to say, though...I will never go running on a Wednesday morning again. My dog tripped me up about 4 times trying to sniff &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; trash cans and then to chase the trash truck. I was lucky I made it home without a broken limb!&lt;br /&gt;Carl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;III's&lt;/span&gt; step-sister, Krystal, had a baby boy on Monday night. Carl IV is SUPER excited about having a boy to play with (although he doesn't seem to understand it'll be a while before he can). Congratulations, Krystal, and welcome to the family, Avery!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7919034021089301715?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7919034021089301715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/09/autumn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7919034021089301715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7919034021089301715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/09/autumn.html' title='AUTUMN!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3112386115086641431</id><published>2010-08-24T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-24T11:35:07.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall is in the air!</title><content type='html'>Yes, that's right...it's beginning to feel like autumn! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahhhh&lt;/span&gt;...I'm looking at the temperature reading in the bottom corner of my screen and it's a beautiful 68* outside right now. &lt;content&gt; I absolutely ADORE this time of year. Windows open throughout the house and office, jeans and tee shirts are the norm, everyone just seems so much more pleasant when it's no longer a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bajillion&lt;/span&gt; degrees outside. I LOVE IT!&lt;br /&gt;I started a running program called 'Couch to 5K' yesterday and am really excited. The general idea is that this program takes you day-by-day through a training regimen from the absolutely pathetic out of shape (me) to someone who can run a 5K without dying in just 2 months. I made the mistake of dragging my somewhat chubby 4 1/2 year old malamute/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;german&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;shepard&lt;/span&gt; mix out with me yesterday, and I think we made it about 100 yards before he just sat down. I tugged his leash and made enthusiastic "Come on, buddy! Let's go!" noises (which was tough at 5am), to which he replied by lying down in the middle of the road we were on. &lt;sigh&gt; Maybe I should hide bacon in my pockets next time to make him keep up.&lt;br /&gt;Paige has FINALLY cut all her teeth...until her molars come in, that is (which I'm afraid is going to be right around the corner). But, this lack of gum pain has made her so much more pleasant lately! She's laughing constantly, which I adore because she really has the cutest little giggle; she jabbers to herself all day long about, well, we have no idea what she's talking about because it's jabber, but she'll look at you straight in the eye with such a serious expression and her jabber has the cadence of a real conversation...I'm pretty sure she's discovered the meaning of life and is trying her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;damnedest&lt;/span&gt; to relay it to us, but alas...we don't understand toddler jabber.&lt;br /&gt;Carl IV is, well, getting there. We're still having some &lt;em&gt;serious&lt;/em&gt; issues with him talking back and bedtime is something that I dread on a daily basis. But, he's not talking back nearly as often as before, he's not pitching as many fits, and he's going to bed a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;teensy&lt;/span&gt; bit better now that I've started a bedtime chart for him. Fingers crossed that soon I won't have to bribe him with a prize in the morning to keep him from losing his noodle every night at bedtime. I think his going back to school is going to help with a lot of our issues. He'll be worn out from playing with all of his friends, he'll have a little more structure to his days than he does now (which helps him &lt;em&gt;enormously&lt;/em&gt;), and hopefully he'll buddy up with some really well-behaved kid who will rub off on him! What? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Wishful&lt;/span&gt; thinking? ...maybe...&lt;br /&gt;Carl III got some exciting news this week! He got called back by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Asplundh&lt;/span&gt;. For those of you who don't know, Carl worked for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Asplundh&lt;/span&gt; (you know...the tree guys with the orange trucks) in Florida for years and years. He was a foreman then, so he was hired on here with chances for advancement at a much sooner rate than a new guy would normally get! Also, he'll be making more money AND get fully-paid benefits for the entire family! Hooray! This also means that once we have health insurance back, we'll be trying for baby #3 (boy, boy, boy...please be a boy)!&lt;br /&gt;My 29&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday is in a little over a week and I'm getting excited and frustrated all at the same time. My opinion: birthdays are a big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;stinkin&lt;/span&gt;' deal regardless of how old you are. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; very few people feel the same way. If I had my way I would still have a huge party with cake, ice cream, presents...just like when I was a kid. When was I supposed to outgrow that, because it seems like everyone else did and I missed it... So many people don't even advertise that it's their birthday. What's wrong with you people?! About a month before my birthday I revert back to my 7-year-old self: Crossing the days off the calendar leading to Sept. 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;; Casually mentioning to everyone I know that my birthday is coming up; Dropping (not-so) subtle hints on what I might want as a gift...I just missed the "Grow up and get boring" bus I guess...thank God! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Whoo&lt;/span&gt;! It's almost my birthday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3112386115086641431?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3112386115086641431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/08/fall-is-in-air.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3112386115086641431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3112386115086641431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/08/fall-is-in-air.html' title='Fall is in the air!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7565079188589402256</id><published>2010-08-10T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T08:17:23.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>August?! What happened to July?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>Alright, I can explain. I know I promised to do this more often, but the kids...yeah, the kids...it's all their fault. The pesky little brats want all of my spare attention. &lt;sigh&gt;Okay, I'll admit it. I just suck at this. Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July has been a pretty horrible month for the Rudegeairs. We've all been stressed beyond belief Carl III and I because of money, leases, health insurance, and every other adult responsibility that refuses to go away; Carl IV has been SO BAD lately, and I'm thinking that he's probably bored to tears with his whiney little sister as his only child company lately, he also got tonsilitis which really added a certain something to his attitude...crappiness...that's exactly what it added; and Paige is cutting her canines, so she's a real peach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, things are looking up! Carl III just found out he got a job closer to home (so we'll save bunches on gas $$) that offers benefits! Hooray! Carl IV starts school in a month, so hopefully that will lessen his boredom and bring back my sweet little boy. Paige's last tooth is almost completely through, so that should help hush her up (God willing)! Ahhh...and if all of this happens, it will brighten my mood SO MUCH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the pleasure of taking my sister-in-law, Leah, my cousin-in-law (?), Kelsey, and my friend Kim to a concert on the waterfront in Philadelphia. That was a blast!! I got to see 2 of my favorite bands (Tegan &amp;amp; Sara and Paramore), hang out with some awesome girls, and get out of work early! All in all a pretty super Wednesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paige has started talking more and more, and it's so entertaining to listen to her try to figure things out. A lot of "words" are more sounds than actual words. Like "hot" to her is a "HAAA." Hillarious. "Carl" is "Cawa." She has mastered "kitty" (which is funny since we don't have one, and "Mama" which is nice and obnoxious at the same time since she follows me around the house, arms lifted whining, "Maaaaamaaaaaaa!").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carl III starts a new job on Monday (cue the choir of angels)! It's for the same pay that he was getting at his last job, but it's about 30 minutes closer, so we'll save a ton on gas money, plus it's a driving position, so no more physical labor! Hooray! I'm hoping that goes really well, because I know the poor guy just wants to find a job that he can go to every day, work a set number of hours, and come home. &lt;fingers&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7565079188589402256?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7565079188589402256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-what-happened-to-july.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7565079188589402256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7565079188589402256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/08/august-what-happened-to-july.html' title='August?! What happened to July?!?!?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2085553990691893264</id><published>2010-07-14T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T09:40:09.585-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July</title><content type='html'>Sheesh! Over a month since my last post...that's just disgraceful. Sorry, cyber-stalkers, to keep you in such anticipation for so long! LOL&lt;br /&gt;Alrighty, so what have the Rudegeairs been up to lately? Well, my mom and dad flew up from Florida over the 4th of July weekend. It was so great to see them, and to see them interact with my kids (especially dad and Carl IV). So cute! They flew in on Friday evening, and by some fortuitous twist of fate their plane was late, so we missed all of the traffic and made amazing time on the drive home! We then picked up Carl at home, left the kids with Debbie (love you, Deb!) and headed over to Pepper's, a local Italian restaurant, for dinner. After that, everyone was exhausted and we called it a night. Bright and early on Saturday morning we braved the 100+ temperatures and roamed the Philadelphia Zoo. It was a great time, but I have to admit, I think the ice cream was probably what everyone enjoyed the most since it was so freakin' hot! After that, we dropped the parents off at their hotel and took the kids home so they could take a nap (which, of course, they didn't because they had slept in the car...grrrrr...). So, after the imaginary nap we piled back into the car and headed over to my parents' hotel to invade their pool (which was located in the center of the hotel, therefore shaded from the ridiculous heat and FREEEEZING cold!). By the time we thawed out and changed, we hit the hotel restaurant for dinner and headed home. Sunday was another scorching hot day, so we just hung around our house all day. I picked up mom and dad and brought them home for breakfast. After breakfast we all just hung out for a while. It was during this hanging out that I overheard what could very well be the most adorable thing ever! I was washing the breakfast dishes and Carl IV had my dad in his room showing him all of his cool toys. Dad asked Carl, "Have you ever been fishing?" (For those of you who don't know my dad, fishing...kind of a big deal.) Carl replies, "Nope. I don't have a fishing rod." Dad looks at him and says, "We'll have to see what we can do about that. Then, next time you come visit my house, we can go out on my boat and I'll take you fishing." Carl's eyes got huge! Cutest. Thing. EVER! It was a great weekend and I was just really happy to have both parents here!&lt;br /&gt;Since then, my bestest friend, BJ, has moved to Pennsylvania! He's in the Marines and has recently become a recruiter. He and his wife, Keila, moved to Seilensgrove, PA (about 2 hours away from me) last week, so I drove up on Saturday to help move some furniture since Keila is about 5'1" and probably 97 lbs soaking wet! But, to my suprise, I arrived to a fully unpacked house! So, we just hung out and drank and I got to get to know Keila, which was nice. I have to admit, I was a little worried...I mean, she's married to my best friend, but I'd never met her...what if we hated each other?! But, luckily, that is so not an issue because she is so nice and really personable, so we got on beautifully!&lt;br /&gt;Paige has started talking a little more lately. It's part of her evening ritual (pre-dinner) to follow me around the kitchen whining/moaning/crying...must be the combination of not seeing me all day, hunger and almost bed time that brings out this beautiful side of her. &lt;---Imagine me saying that ooooooooozing with sarcasm for full effect. So, for ages, I would just ignore her whining, she would follow me around whining, and eventually give up. The other day it finally happened. Somebody taught her my name. "Waaaaahhh....Maaaaaaaaaamaaaaaaaaa..." Ugh! Damn it! Ah, well...she also says 'baby' and 'dada' and 'all gone.' WAY more than her brother said at this age. I think it definitely helps that she has an older sibling that she can hear talk. All the time. Continuously. Without stopping. Ever. Even if he's alone in a room. Talking. CONSTANTLY. Oi!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2085553990691893264?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2085553990691893264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/07/july.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2085553990691893264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2085553990691893264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/07/july.html' title='July'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3623970753763074794</id><published>2010-06-02T07:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T08:23:50.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, I suck at this.</title><content type='html'>I keep telling myself that I'll write a post soon...as you can see I blow myself off pretty easily! Sorry for the infrequent updates lately, but those of you who have ever had a full time job outside of the home (hell, even inside the home) and small children, you understand that by the time I get a few minutes to myself, I'm usually passed out on the sofa!&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so what's been going on with the Rudegeairs? Hmm...Carl IV had his last day of nursery school last week. He was devestated yesterday when he asked why he wasn't going to school and I told him it was vacation time and he wouldn't be going back for a while. The poor kid looked at me as though I'd just told him that Santa wasn't real! He's happy that his buddy that lives behind my mother-in-law's will be home again, though (he started kindergarten last fall). He has recently shown an overwhelming sense of sympathy/empathy toward his friends and animals. Yesterday he found a dead worm on the sidewalk and was practically in tears because it was hurt. He dumped some water on it trying to make it better, but alas...his worm remained dead. His eyes were welling up just telling me about it. We also have the occasional talk about how the kids that live behind Debbie (who are older, and occasionally...okay, ALWAYS, really manipulative and pushy) are not allowed to boss him around and take toys or hit, and he started crying (but an angry, defensive, silent, tears running down his face cry) and said, "He my fwiend. You have to be nice. He my fwiend." Sweet little dude. &lt;br /&gt;Paige is on the verge of talking everyone's ear off! As of now, she's just babbling (constantly!), with the occasional word in there. "That!" "Kitty!" "NO!" and "HI!" are her favorites. Everything is an exclaimation, which I absolutely love. It's not, "Hi," but, "HI!" So cute!&lt;br /&gt;As for Carl and I, we had a much needed night out a couple of weeks ago. Carl's mom took the kids all day and overnight one Saturday, so Carl and I headed out to his aunt's beach house in Ocean City, NJ and just enjoyed the peace and quiet of a beach town right before peak season. Aaaahhhhh...so nice.&lt;br /&gt;I finally hooked up our web cam to the laptop I got last fall and got on Skype with my sister last weekend. It was so cool to see her and my niece, Bobbi. I have to admit, watching Alie with a kid cracks me up as she was always kind of "anti-babies/kids" when we were growing up. It's just funny. (Sorry, Alie!)  :)&lt;br /&gt;We're still trying to scrimp and save to get to London the week after Christmas, but it seems like every time I think I'm getting ahead, something happens and I have to dig into the savings account to pay for something. &lt;sigh&gt; Such is the life of a grown up.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really excited for next weekend, though! A friend of mine from youth group in high school got in touch with me a while back and said her sister was getting married and did I want to come since it's in PA? I was like, "Umm...hell yeah!" So, we're going to Erika Weber's wedding (which weirds me out since she was probably 14 the last time I saw her!), and I get to see Heidi who was one of my dearest friends through high school, and I haven't seen in AGES! I am thrilled! Also, she has 3 boys that are close-ish in age to my kids, so it'll be nice to talk to a friend who has kids and they can entertain each other while we gab away about the goings on of our lives since, oh, 2002! It should be a fantastic time!&lt;br /&gt;On a more somber note, a friend of mine and Carl's lost her mother to cancer last week, so if you're the praying type, I ask that you please keep the Ferlick family in your prayers. I know it will be greatly appreciated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3623970753763074794?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3623970753763074794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/06/wow-i-suck-at-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3623970753763074794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3623970753763074794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/06/wow-i-suck-at-this.html' title='Wow, I suck at this.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1310669080121243630</id><published>2010-05-10T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T18:09:55.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May 2010</title><content type='html'>Okay, so it's been forever, but our family has been going through some serious stuff. Blah.&lt;br /&gt;I'll just cut to the chase and say that Carl's grandpop had another stroke the week after Easter, was hospitalized for a week, and passed away the following week. His funeral was the following Thursday, so the whole 2 weeks were a whirlwind for our family. Obviously we were all upset, and with Debbie (Carl's mom) holding a power of attorney for Pop, she had to be present for a lot of the goings on at the hospital. This, in turn, resulted in me missing a lot of work since she's the one who watches the kids while Carl and I are working. Fortunately, my boss is really cool and understanding, so it wasn't an issue with him, but in the back of my mind I couldn't help but think of the brutal blow everything was going to have on my paycheck. I know, I know...and I don't resent or regret any of the time taken off to show respect to Pop and the family. But, given our current financial situation, every penny counts, and I knew this was going to add one more thing to my "stress" list. &lt;sigh&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Carl III is also HATING his new job at the landscape company. Aparently this place is the most unorganized business in the entire world! So, we're still sending his resume out to every job that looks appealing, so fingers crossed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1310669080121243630?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1310669080121243630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1310669080121243630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1310669080121243630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/05/may-2010.html' title='May 2010'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7650095047528123255</id><published>2010-04-07T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T07:29:17.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>90 Degrees in April?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ_BoVnwI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/_vdwk4PmWx4/s1600/peace.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457396260909981442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ_BoVnwI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/_vdwk4PmWx4/s320/peace.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ-eXHsyI/AAAAAAAAAJw/9H82GZh5r3I/s1600/rawr.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457396251442524962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ-eXHsyI/AAAAAAAAAJw/9H82GZh5r3I/s320/rawr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ-DINHjI/AAAAAAAAAJo/KL_rTTo2O2c/s1600/icecream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457396244132208178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ-DINHjI/AAAAAAAAAJo/KL_rTTo2O2c/s320/icecream.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ94dbDWI/AAAAAAAAAJg/Q4NqISDsSAo/s1600/flower.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457396241268411746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ94dbDWI/AAAAAAAAAJg/Q4NqISDsSAo/s320/flower.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ9ot4BBI/AAAAAAAAAJY/wvKUpfRn2Ew/s1600/explorer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457396237042451474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ9ot4BBI/AAAAAAAAAJY/wvKUpfRn2Ew/s320/explorer.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, you read that correctly. For the past 4 days we've been hovering around 90 degrees up here! That's bananas! This is hot even for my Floridian self! Whew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had the day off on Good Friday, so we took advantage of the beautiful day and hauled the kids off to the city to hit the zoo. Good idea, right? Well, the rest of Philadelphia thought so, too. We were 4 of 10 gazillion people there. Glad we went as early as we did, though, because the line to get off of the interstate to head to the zoo was backed up for miles when we left! The kids had a blast. That was the first time Paige had been since last summer, so it was cute to see her actually "get it" and get excited about the animals. Well, most animals. She freaked out a little when we got too close to the giant tortoise. Actually, now that I think about it, she seemed more impressed with the trees/landscaping than the animals. Ah, well...we had a good time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We ended up taking the kids to the early mass on Easter Sunday, and they did suprisingly well! Paige spent the whole time flirting with the people in the pew behind us (which the people behind us were just eating up!), and Carl spent the whole service waiting for us to be splashed by holy water (at the renewing of the baptismal vows). After mass we went home and the kids napped for a little bit, then we headed to Carl's Aunt Patty's house for dinner and egg hunting. I have pics of that, but forgot to bring the cord with me to upload them from my camera, so you'll have to wait for those. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Carl III just got hired on with a pretty big tree/landscaping company up here, so that is a humongous relief! His interview was this morning, and after a mere 30 minutes he was hired!!! Hooray! It's less money than he was making with U.S. Roofing, but about the same as his unemployment brings in (which is working fine for us), but once he makes foreman (which is only a matter of a month or so) there will be no chance of seasonal lay-offs! WHOO-HOO!!! Add to that he's going to get benefits...awesome. This is such a huge weight lifted off of our shoulders! Let's all breath a huge sigh of relief together. WHEW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7650095047528123255?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7650095047528123255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/04/90-degrees-in-april.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7650095047528123255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7650095047528123255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/04/90-degrees-in-april.html' title='90 Degrees in April?!?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S7yQ_BoVnwI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/_vdwk4PmWx4/s72-c/peace.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7726399483405476294</id><published>2010-03-30T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T08:50:43.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lesser of 2 Evils</title><content type='html'>Okay, let me explain the title of this post. I am completely torn between taking the kids with me to the Easter Vigil service which is Saturday night at 8pm or getting them up and braving the 8-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bajillion&lt;/span&gt; people that will be at Easter Sunday mass the following morning. The upside of the vigil is that it's at 8pm, so the odds of one or both kids falling asleep are greatly in my favor. Also, it's really visually interesting what with the Easter fire, getting candles to hold, etc. so they'd be entertained a bit more than usual. The downside is it's at 8pm, so if the little punks don't sleep they'll be total...well...punks. Plus, having gone to the vigil solo the past couple of years, I don't remember seeing many kids there, so if they do make noise, it will be REALLY amplified. The downside of the Easter Sunday mass is the 8-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bajillion&lt;/span&gt; people, half of whom will be under the age of 10 and all hopped-up on jelly beans! Ugh! Ah, well...I think I'll play it by ear and see how they're acting on Saturday to let that be the deciding factor.&lt;br /&gt;Our trip to Baltimore was good. We got up before God on Saturday morning and enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee before waking up the kids and getting them dressed and in the car. When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Mapquesting&lt;/span&gt; directions to Ken's house, I did a search for Waffle Houses between PA and Baltimore and, TA-DA, I found one on the way!!! So, I had the best hash browns I've had since I moved north of the Mason Dixon Line, and we hit the road again. All in all the trip took about 2 hours, so we were in Baltimore around 7:30 or 8am. We hung out at Ken and Beth's for a little bit and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ooooh'd&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Aaaaah'd&lt;/span&gt; over little Zoe (totally adorable...and SO quiet!). Then, we grabbed the strollers and hit the park. We did a lap around a great park near their house (which brought to my attention how ridiculously out of shape I am as I was panting by the time we finished), and headed back to their house so Paige and Zoe could take a nap. Then, we hit a nice area by the water and just strolled around (again, more walking, more aching!). We hit the road to head back home around 6:00pm hoping the kids would sleep the whole way home, then we could just toss them into bed and hit the hay ourselves...silly us. Would you believe those little monsters (neither of whom took a decent nap that day and both got up about an hour earlier than usual) stayed awake until we were 10 minutes from home?!?! By that time I was like, "Hell, no! Stay awake! Stay awake! You're going to change into &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt;, go potty, then go to sleep." Ugh. It was a fun, exhausting day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7726399483405476294?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7726399483405476294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/03/lesser-of-2-evils.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7726399483405476294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7726399483405476294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/03/lesser-of-2-evils.html' title='The Lesser of 2 Evils'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6531013450653496540</id><published>2010-03-22T12:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T12:50:02.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>March Madness---and I'm not talkin' about basketball!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJqdnTvII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hYz3-1pVUjg/s1600-h/paigeeaster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451547605296462978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJqdnTvII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hYz3-1pVUjg/s320/paigeeaster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJqItUzsI/AAAAAAAAAJI/0w2GR4lpwo4/s1600-h/easter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451547599684554434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJqItUzsI/AAAAAAAAAJI/0w2GR4lpwo4/s320/easter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJpxHuzBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/CZn94mj5BZs/s1600-h/cbday2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451547593352858642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 97px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJpxHuzBI/AAAAAAAAAJA/CZn94mj5BZs/s320/cbday2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJpnfDlqI/AAAAAAAAAI4/tKpuAu9nNyU/s1600-h/cbday1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451547590766335650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJpnfDlqI/AAAAAAAAAI4/tKpuAu9nNyU/s320/cbday1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJo777y8I/AAAAAAAAAIw/wF_O0jeuNTE/s1600-h/P3111519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451547579076299714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJo777y8I/AAAAAAAAAIw/wF_O0jeuNTE/s320/P3111519.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;WHEW! I cannot believe that it's already the last week of March! It's been a total whirlwind with the Rudegeairs this month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started off with Carl IV's 3rd birthday which was a lot of fun. We just had people over to our house for pizza and cake. It was a good time. The kid gets more presents in one birthday than I think I did over my entire childhood! It's obscene! But, he also plays with EVERYTHING so at least none of it's going to waste. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Things have been picking up for me at work (Thank God!). Carl III's still unemployed and being Mr.Mom, but we have a few irons in the fire, so hopefully something comes up soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week we decided to trash all of Paige's pacifiers, which is a total non-issue to her...until bedtime. I had no idea she would become so dependent on a stupid piece of silicone to help soothe herself to sleep or I never would've given her one! Ah, well...better to take it away now than to go through what my sister is currently. Her daughter is almost 2, and they just took hers away and are having a hard time because she can ask for it! At least Paige can't scream the word "BINKY" to me. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This past Saturday Carl IV's nursery school hosted an Easter Egg hunt which we took the kids to. It was really cute, but I think they were a little overwhelmed by the number of kids that came. It seemed like it was 30 kids and 29 eggs, if you know what I mean. They didn't have the ages broken up very well, either (3 &amp;amp; under in one hunt...so I've got my 1-year-old going up against her 3-year-old brother for candy?! She's going to get the shaft...whatever). All in all they handled everything well, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're heading to Baltimore to visit one of Carl III's best friends and his wife and new baby next weekend. Hopefully the weather cooperates so we can see some of the city! Fingers crossed!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6531013450653496540?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6531013450653496540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-madness-and-im-not-talkin-about.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6531013450653496540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6531013450653496540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/03/march-madness-and-im-not-talkin-about.html' title='March Madness---and I&apos;m not talkin&apos; about basketball!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S6fJqdnTvII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hYz3-1pVUjg/s72-c/paigeeaster.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3628864182727799729</id><published>2010-02-24T08:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T08:37:53.763-08:00</updated><title type='text'>BAM-MOM!</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know I shouldn't make fun of the way my (almost) 3-year-old talks, but it's so stinkin' cute the way he pronounces certain words I just can't resist! For instance, Grandmom is "Bam-mom," huge is "HOOOJ," Aunt Leah is "Aunt Wee-yuh"...you get the picture. Also, his little spin on what he calls certain things is adorable. Paige is not just Paige. No, sir. She's "Paige-y." And our enormous dog (he's half Alaskan Malamute, half German Shepard...and thinks he's a poodle!) is named Gregory (after the last street we lived in before leaving Florida), but Carl IV insists on calling him "Big Horse," because he heard my mother-in-law refer to him as such. Freakin' cracks me up! Imagine a 3-year-old yelling across the house, "Here, Big Horse! Where Big Horse is?" &lt;sigh&gt; The kid's a nut.&lt;br /&gt;Alright, enough of that. Onto what the whole family has been up to.&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to make more of an effort to get everybody together to go to mass again. I admit, we have been &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;severely&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; slacking in this area lately. It's just such a pain to get the kids to be quiet for an entire hour. I called our church and they do not have a cry-room or a nursery! What the hell?! So, we're going to have to be "those people" with "those kids" during mass, because that's the only way that the little boogers are going to learn what's expected of them during mass. So, to all parishoners of MDP, I apologize in advance for the chatty kiddos in the front...that's us. But, seeing as we have no alternative, please keep your dirty looks to yourself, I'm doing the best I can.&lt;br /&gt;We have also been making more of an effort to eat dinner together as a family at our dinner table. We had a habit of feeding the kids early in the kitchen and Carl III and I would just eat on the couch a little later. &lt;dee&gt; I remember growing up we always ate dinner together, and it's a really important thing to instill in your kids. That is "family" time, and it needs to be something that we stick to. So, wish us luck, but so far so good!&lt;br /&gt;Carl IV's 3rd birthday is rapidly aproaching and he found out that they're going to have a party for him at his school...big mistake. He won't shut up about it. Out of the blue he'll turn to me and say, "Mommy, guess what! My birfday come up soooooon! I have party and presents and ice cream!" It's cute the first, say, 12 times...the following bajillion...not so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3628864182727799729?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3628864182727799729/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/bam-mom.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3628864182727799729'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3628864182727799729'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/bam-mom.html' title='BAM-MOM!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5419842770858595621</id><published>2010-02-17T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T09:37:31.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day (a few days late)</title><content type='html'>Valentine's Day was on a Sunday this year, and Carl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;IV's&lt;/span&gt; nursery school was supposed to have their party last Thursday. The kid was so excited at the mere thought of a party with candy that he was SERIOUSLY let-down when school was cancelled on Thursday because of the blizzard. Fortunately they had the party yesterday, and let me tell you...Carl IV gave out the coolest Valentines by-far! I got 8 Transformer's mini-boxes of chocolates at Target for 99¢ each. Normally I would've just bought a box of the little cards and taped lollipops to them, but I figured I would take advantage of him being in such a small class and get the good ones this time. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmph&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; I was the only parent who felt that way. Ah, well...he was really excited and they got to paint the bags to hold all their goodies, they made cards for mom &amp;amp; dad (really cute!) and glued stuff all over hearts that the teachers cut out of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;construction&lt;/span&gt; paper.&lt;br /&gt;Paige and Carl IV both got haircuts on Sunday, and let me tell you...they've never looked cuter! I was really impressed by Paige holding it together for her 1st haircut experience. She was so captivated by the huge mirrors (my daughter is SO narcissistic)!&lt;br /&gt;We're prepping for Carl &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;IV's&lt;/span&gt; 3rd birthday which is in about 3 weeks. I can't think about it for too long or I start to get teary. My little man is turning into...well...a little man! 3 is officially a little boy. Not a toddler. Not a baby. He is a little boy now. &lt;sniff&gt; Hard to believe this time 3 years ago I was begging my O.B. to induce me because I was convinced I was going to have a humongous kid. "But you're measuring perfectly normal, Dominique. He's not going to be &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; big." Ha! Goes to show you how accurate their measurements are. The monster was 10lbs 3oz! &lt;sigh&gt; Still weird to think of myself as a mom, but the mom of a 3 year old...whoa.&lt;br /&gt;Carl III is still unemployed. He's still waiting to hear from the water company up here, and heard through the grape vine that his step-dad's brother (who is pretty high up at the company) was putting in a good word, so we shall see.&lt;br /&gt;I, on the other hand, just had my 1 year review at work, and got a raise! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Whoo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;!!!&lt;br /&gt;Today is Ash Wednesday (1st day of Lent), so I would like to say farewell to meat on Fridays. It's been nice having you around, and know that you will be missed. See you in a little over a month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5419842770858595621?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5419842770858595621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day-few-days-late.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5419842770858595621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5419842770858595621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/valentines-day-few-days-late.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day (a few days late)'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1384504830712799104</id><published>2010-02-10T07:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T07:39:59.807-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow...AGAIN!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTLfFRvRI/AAAAAAAAAIo/XBfJZrdhM60/s1600-h/P2071452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436639894465264914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTLfFRvRI/AAAAAAAAAIo/XBfJZrdhM60/s320/P2071452.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTLEALSMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/xxyZltibaBg/s1600-h/P2071450.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436639887196113090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTLEALSMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/xxyZltibaBg/s320/P2071450.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTKzCKU9I/AAAAAAAAAIY/B_zb17VDfTk/s1600-h/P2061445.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436639882641036242" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTKzCKU9I/AAAAAAAAAIY/B_zb17VDfTk/s320/P2061445.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTKo0idyI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Yh8eaKaQfmk/s1600-h/P2051443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436639879899543330" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTKo0idyI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Yh8eaKaQfmk/s320/P2051443.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTJt50I-I/AAAAAAAAAII/H3HZewI0e3A/s1600-h/P2051440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436639864083981282" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTJt50I-I/AAAAAAAAAII/H3HZewI0e3A/s320/P2051440.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday night 2/5/2010 into Saturday 2/6/2010 the Philadelphia area got upwards of 2 feet of snow. Okay, I can handle that. After all, I am aware of the fact that it is February in Pennsylvania. But, another 2 feet less than a week later?! COME ON!! That's a bit much. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've had 2 blizzard condition storms in 4 days. Whew! That's a lot of flippin' snow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These snow days have, however, given me a lot of time to browse the web looking for money-saving tips/blogs because I am absolutely disgusted by how much money groceries cost. I found a really good one and figured I'd share. It's called 'Cha-Ching on a Shoestring.' I'm adding their button to my blog because a lot of the coupons are good nationwide and not just in our local stores in the Northeast. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1384504830712799104?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1384504830712799104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/snowagain.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1384504830712799104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1384504830712799104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/snowagain.html' title='Snow...AGAIN!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/S3LTLfFRvRI/AAAAAAAAAIo/XBfJZrdhM60/s72-c/P2071452.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3551348768487043532</id><published>2010-02-04T10:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T11:01:03.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ugh.</title><content type='html'>I know it's been a long time since I posted anything but there has been a stomach bug that's having its' way with my family for the past week. &lt;groan&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all started on Sunday night around 8:30pm when Carl IV woke up crying and whining. I was exhausted and had just lied down for the night so I sent Carl III in to check on him. 2 seconds later I hear, "Oh, man! Dee, I'm gonna need your help in here!" So, I step into Carl IV's room to see my poor little man lying in his vomit-covered bed just crying his eyes out. And, of course, he wants me to pick him up even though he's covered in the smelliest puke ever. &lt;shudder&gt; And, because I'm not a terrible mom, I pick him up and have to breathe through my mouth the whole way to the bathroom and while giving him a bath because now &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; smell like it! Ewwww! So, once he's cleaned up, I get a cup of water and take him to the couch with me to calm him down and give Carl III some time to clean up his bed. The whole time we're sitting there the poor little guy is saying pitiful things like, "Mommy, my belly hurts!" and, "Why I fow up? I not wike it." What a helpless feeling! So, we proceded to explain to him that everybody gets sick sometimes, and it'll get better soon. I don't think he bought it since shortly after as I was carrying him back to his bed he threw up all over himself and me. EEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww! So, another bath and change of clothes later, I get him into bed, and he eventually passes out. Around 10:30 he wakes up again and I go into his room thinking he's been sick again. Thankfully he hadn't been, he was just still freaked out from the earlier episodes. So, Carl III comes to the rescue again and sleeps in Carl IV's room on the floor so he would calm down and get some sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was okay for the most part, although Carl III was starting to feel a little if-y towards the end of the day. Wednesday Carl III was sick with the stomach crud, and Wednesday night I was up from 9pm to 4:30am with my head hanging in the toilet. Yuck. Not fun. Thursday morning while I was practically comatose on the sofa, Carl III went to get Paige out of her crib and found that she had been sick all over the place, too. :( Poor little lamb. So, I gave her a bath (all the while gagging at the smell) and she and I sat on the couch all day drinking Gatorade and eating crackers. Not fun at all.&lt;br /&gt;So, now that we've all had it, I'm hoping that we've met our "sick quota" for the year. I don't know if we could survive another round!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3551348768487043532?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3551348768487043532/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/ugh.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3551348768487043532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3551348768487043532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/02/ugh.html' title='Ugh.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-9130794183070595557</id><published>2010-01-22T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T13:06:30.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 22, 2010...Carl's 31!!!!</title><content type='html'>Happy Birthday to the most incredible husband I've ever had! Hahahahaha! &lt;sigh&gt; I crack me up...Seriously, Carl's 31st birthday is today!! We're going out tonight with some family and friends for sushi and drinks to follow...should be a well-deserved good time.&lt;br /&gt;Carl III's latest job didn't work out. It was a set pay of $60/day, which sounded good when they told him the average day was 4-6 hours long. But, he worked an average of 10 hours/day Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday! That's less than minimum wage! So, needless to say, he said adios! to that place and is now back to the job hunt.&lt;br /&gt;Carl IV is quickly becoming a favorite of all the grown-ups at his nursery school. He's aparently the most helpful kid in his class when it comes to cleaning up after an activity, he's potty-trained (I think the only one in his class), and he's a really cool kid (don't roll your eyes...if you've met him, you know it's true!). I'm really glad we decided to enroll him in this program. He's non-stop chatting about it every evening after he's been! It's adorable!&lt;br /&gt;Paige is getting tougher by the day. You can definitely tell that she's grown up around a rough-and-ready little boy. She takes so many spills, tumbles, bumps, etc. and generally just gets up and walks it off. I'm glad she's not a "delicate little flower" kind of girl...that would not last a second in our house! She's going through that stage where she ALWAYS has a huge bump/scratch/bruise on her head. It's a little less obvious with her than with Carl thanks to all her hair!&lt;br /&gt;All in all we're hanging in there. I keep seeing these horrible disasters on the news...the earthquakes in Haiti, the flooding/mudslides in California...it makes me realize how much worse things could be going for us, and makes me focus more on the things that we DO have...clean water, a home, clothes, food, stable ground under our feet. It's really helped to put things into perspective...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-9130794183070595557?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/9130794183070595557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-22-2010carls-31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/9130794183070595557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/9130794183070595557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/january-22-2010carls-31.html' title='January 22, 2010...Carl&apos;s 31!!!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6928869572950606540</id><published>2010-01-18T07:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T08:04:12.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Getting Old This SUCKS!</title><content type='html'>I don't know what came over me Saturday, but I cleaned every square inch of my house. I mean, REALLY cleaned. I scrubbed the entire kitchen, my bathroom...everything. I even cleaned the kids' rooms (which I usually avoid like the plague due to the fact that I know they'll destroy them again the second I leave the room)! All that cleaning resulted in a little stiffness on Sunday morning. So, when my massive son jumped into my arms Sunday morning for a hug, something in my back said, "What the...?! Screw this!" and twisted/pinched/knotted, resulting in my hobbling around the remainder of the day like a 90-year-old hag! &lt;sigh&gt; Things like this remind me that I am not 20 anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Carl got the job that he interviewed for on Friday! In case you're wondering why that's not in all caps, bold, and underlined, it's because it's not the greatest job ever. They don't offer benefits, and the pay is kind of...eh. But, it's more than a lot of people have right now, so we're still pretty relieved. For all of you that sent good vibes, thoughts, prayers, etc. Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;Carl IV is heading off to his 2nd day at nursery school tomorrow, and we've been talking all weekend about how tackling people is totally unacceptable, and if he does it again, his teachers won't let him come back. I don't know if that's true (probably not), but it gets the point across. He's really excited, and we're thinking about signing him up for their "Lunch Bunch" program as well. For another $5, he gets to stay until 1:00 and have lunch/hang out with all the other kids that participate in the program. I'm thinking he'd really get a kick out of it!&lt;br /&gt;Paige has been absolutely miserable the past couple of days. I'm hoping it's teething (I seem to be saying that a lot lately). She has definitely had a bit of a growth spurt recently, she's in 18 month clothes, and they fit beautifully! She's starting to lose her "baby" look and is taking on that "little kid" look. I love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6928869572950606540?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6928869572950606540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-getting-old-this-sucks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6928869572950606540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6928869572950606540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-getting-old-this-sucks.html' title='This Getting Old This SUCKS!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-960475692987518574</id><published>2010-01-15T07:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T07:53:20.079-08:00</updated><title type='text'>**Fingers Crossed***</title><content type='html'>Carl got an interview! I emailed his resume to a listing I saw on CraigsList for a job as a driver for a beverage company in King of Prussia yesterday and they called him &lt;em&gt;today&lt;/em&gt; and want to talk to him &lt;em&gt;today&lt;/em&gt;!! If he gets the job he starts MONDAY! How sweet is that?! I don't want to get my hopes up too much, because we don't know how much it pays or if they offer benefits, but I figure if nothing else this will help lift his spirits a bit to know that people are interested in him as an employee. Cross your fingers, legs, eyes, whatever...PLEASE LET THIS BE &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;THE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; JOB!!&lt;br /&gt;On another note, Carl IV had his first full stay at nursery school yesterday, and he did really well. Carl III dropped him off and said that he just took off his coat, turned around to wave, and then took off in the classroom! Debbie went to pick him up and snuck in a little early just to watch how he was doing, and she said he was really good! We did have one incident that I was afraid of...he tackled some little boy for taking a toy (or not giving him the toy...one or the other), but the teacher just said, "Carl, we do not tackle our friends. Say you're sorry," and he did! So, things are looking really good for him with school. Although, he was thoroughly disappointed with the fact that he doesn't get to ride the " 'cool bus" (school bus) he enjoyed being able to interact with other kids his own age.&lt;br /&gt;Paige has 6 teeth now! She got 4 at once on top (which explains all the drooling/pooping/whining), and she looks so silly with all those teeth up top and only 2 little teeth on the bottom! Here's hoping the rest fill in MUCH faster than the ones she has...I'm not sure how much more teething I can take!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-960475692987518574?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/960475692987518574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/fingers-crossed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/960475692987518574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/960475692987518574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/fingers-crossed.html' title='**Fingers Crossed***'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5652201369901262236</id><published>2010-01-13T06:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-13T06:15:41.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We Can't Catch a Break</title><content type='html'>Just when things were starting to look up for the Rudegeair Family, fate backhanded us in the face. Carl III got pulled into the general manager's office at his new job yesterday. He's been working for a trucking company down the road from our house for the past week and a half, and was just getting into the swing of things when the G.M. tells him that the company's vehicle insurance company won't cover Carl under their policy due to his 10-year driving history. Their hiring screening only requires a 3 year history, in which he's been great. If any of you remember what Carl was like in Florida with his driving, you know what I'm talking about. He was like most guys in their early-20s and got tickets, accidents, suspensions, etc. So, they had to let him go. &lt;sigh&gt; Here we go again with the job hunt.&lt;br /&gt;I just feel so bad for Carl because all he really wants is an okay job with okay pay that he can work at until he retires. That's all. It's so frustrating to keep getting pushed down time after time. So, if you're the praying type, please keep him in your prayers, not only to get a job, but to keep his spirits up. If you're not the praying type, please send positive vibes his way. God knows he needs them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5652201369901262236?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5652201369901262236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-cant-catch-break.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5652201369901262236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5652201369901262236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-cant-catch-break.html' title='We Can&apos;t Catch a Break'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2506961519821910544</id><published>2010-01-11T09:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T09:59:31.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>Ah, the joys of having a 2-year-old. I have recently discovered that the absense of tantrums results in an increase of questions. Normally I would be thrilled with the fact that my son is so inquizitive about all the goings on in his world, but the "Why" thing is getting on my last nerve! Here's an example of a typical conversation between me and Carl IV lately:&lt;br /&gt;Me - "Alright, buddy, let's get our shoes on."&lt;br /&gt;Carl - "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;Me - "Because, you can't go outside without shoes on."&lt;br /&gt;Carl - "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;Me - "Because it's freezing cold, and if you don't put shoes on, your toes will get cold and fall off."&lt;br /&gt;Carl - "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;Me (rapidly losing patience) - "It's called frostbite. If your fingers or toes get too cold they fall off, and if you don't have toes you can't run or walk or kick a ball or anything. So, put your shoes on, please."&lt;br /&gt;Carl - "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;Me - "AAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh! JUST PUT YOUR SHOES ON!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;Carl - "Mom...not get so mad..."&lt;br /&gt;Me - &lt;walking&gt; "Fine. We're not going outside."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. It's exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;On a brighter note, Carl IV is going to his first day of nursery school tomorrow! He is absolutely thrilled! I, on the other hand, am having mixed feelings. I am so happy that he is so excited, and I know it will be good for him to have interaction with other kids his age. I am, however, nervous about the possibility of him being, "That kid." You know..."THAT kid."&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, that kid hit me!" or "Who threw that toy across the room? Oh, it was that kid." He's just SO physical in everything he does, I am so afraid that he's going to get so overwhelmed at all the new friends and new surroundings that he's totally going to go nuts! Also, I'm a little freaked out at the thought that my baby is old enough to be going to nursery school!!! &lt;sniff,&gt; Alright, stop making fun of me. I know it's only 2 mornings a week, but still...the next step is REAL school. That's INSANE!!! I'll definitely update on how things go by the end of the week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2506961519821910544?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2506961519821910544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/why.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2506961519821910544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2506961519821910544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-621812585374294314</id><published>2010-01-04T17:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-04T17:37:15.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shhh...don't tell.</title><content type='html'>I'm almost afraid to put it down in writing for fear that I'll jinx it, but I can't help it...I think we might be working our way out of the &lt;em&gt;worst&lt;/em&gt; of the terrible-2's! &lt;&lt;em&gt;Dee looks quickly from side to side checking for the return of the demonic 2-year-old that has inhabited this house for the past several months&lt;/em&gt;&gt; Whew! I don't think he heard me. Carl IV has had the best week and a half in recent memory this past 10 days! I hope it's not a fluke...that would suck. He's been behaving really well (don't get me wrong, he's still 2, but his tantrums have been few and far between), he's eating entire meals instead of taking 2 bites of whatever we're having and then demanding Cheerios and "wack-a-woni" (macaroni), he's being nice to Paige, there's hugs and kisses galore! I love it! He's started talking a lot more which is making me think that maybe the tantrums and yucky behavior were out of frustration from him not being able to get his point across. If so, I'll take the little chatterbox that he's become over that terrible monster any day!&lt;br /&gt;As for Paige...she's had better weeks. I think she's getting some more teeth, because she's been drooly, poopy, and fussy for a few days now...I'm hoping it's teething and not her getting sick. There is really no feeling more helpless than having a sick infant. &lt;shudder&gt; She'd better be teething. She's also getting quite chatty. She got a doll with a stroller for Christmas, and she pushes her dolly around the house just babbling away. "Dadadada...mamamama...lalalalala." It's pretty entertaining. It's really fun to watch her start to develop an understanding for language. She came wandering over to me this morning all whiney because Carl IV had taken back his cup from her after she'd picked it off the table. So, I looked at her and said, "Where is your cup? Can you go find your cup?" And, wouldn't you know, my little genius girl turned around, scanned the room, saw her cup on a different table, and toddled over and picked it up! Then she turned around and looked at me with such excitement in her little face! Like, "Look, mom! You said cup, and I found my cup! Check it out!!!" I forgot how cool it is to watch your baby start to turn into a kid. Some moms get sad when they can't call their kids "babies" anymore. I'm thrilled! I love being able to communicate with my kids! I love watching them develop independence and how thrilled they get when they realize how much they are capable of doing! Give me a toddler over an infant any time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-621812585374294314?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/621812585374294314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/shhhdont-tell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/621812585374294314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/621812585374294314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2010/01/shhhdont-tell.html' title='Shhh...don&apos;t tell.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-4404698316667861109</id><published>2009-12-28T17:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-28T17:29:43.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas? Check.</title><content type='html'>Well, Christmas has come and gone, and I'm officially a grown-up because I'm actually glad that it's over. I remember hearing adults say that as a child and I was disgusted...now I get it. Christmas transforms children into little monsters! Between all the candy, cookies, presents, and general hooplah, they're strung out! It's awful!&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve was spent with Carl III's father's side of the family. It was a lot of fun, but they're a large family, and that means nothing ever starts on time, which resulted in 2 overstimulated kids out 2 hours past their bedtime. YIKES! They were so strung out that they didn't even fall asleep in the car on the 30 minute drive home. Ugh. You would think that maybe because they were up so late that they would sleep past 6:00am, right? WRONG!&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Day was nice, though. We got up and did stockings and opened our presents here at home, then headed to Debbie's (Carl's mom) for breakfast and more presents. Then, after dragging the kids out of Debbie's kicking and screaming (sidenote: why do they always act like they'll never see her again? They see the woman almost every day!), we came back home and had lunch and naps (aaaah...naptime, I love you!). Then, we got all dolled up and headed over to Carl's aunt and uncle's house (which is fortunately only 5 minutes away) for Christmas dinner. We had a great time, and I'm a little more relaxed with the kids when we're with that side of the family, because they see them more often and I know they'll whip them into shape if the need arises!&lt;br /&gt;An exhausting few days, but well worth it for the excitement shown by the kids (especially Carl IV). All I have to say is thank God Christmas is only once a year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***My camera is rebelling, so I'll try uploading some pics at work tomorrow***&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-4404698316667861109?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/4404698316667861109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-check.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4404698316667861109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/4404698316667861109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-check.html' title='Christmas? Check.'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6509760729386855678</id><published>2009-12-15T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T08:39:51.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ho! Ho! Ho-oly CRAP!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sye4sQMH6yI/AAAAAAAAAIA/2bvWNl51Q3o/s1600-h/Christmas.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415500147335883554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 231px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sye4sQMH6yI/AAAAAAAAAIA/2bvWNl51Q3o/s320/Christmas.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday morning we took the kids to see Santa, and let me tell you...he was a big hit! Even Paige was in total awe of the big man in red! She kept stroking his beard and trying to "talk" to him. All in all the trip was a huge success! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to admit, Santa is a useful trick to have on-hand when dealing with a 2-year-old. Take this morning, for example. Carl III's mom comes over in the morning from 7-9 so I can get ready for work since Carl III's not home. So, I'm drying my hair this morning, and hear Debbie shout, "What are you doing?!" I come out knowing that nothing good can come from a statement like that, and am faced with my son's ashamed (not nearly enough in my opinion) face. Debbie was in Paige's room changing her clothes since she'd ended up with half her breakfast all over her 1st outfit of the day, and in the time she was doing that, my son had opened a drawer in the kitchen, found a blue Sharpie marker, drawn all over the kitchen counter and his bedroom walls! BLUE PERMANENT MARKER! I swear, I had to turn around and go to my "happy place" and take a few deep breaths, or I would've knocked the kid out. I know what you're thinking..."Dee, he's 2. He doesn't know any better." Bullshit. He's not your typical 2-year-old. Anyone that's been around him for more than 5 minutes will vouch for that. He knew exactly what he was doing! I have actually witnessed this kid ponder the cause and effect of his actions, and still decide to go ahead and be bad anyway. He's EVIL! Grrrr! My mom tells me it's payback for all the walls that I "decorated" with lipstick and crayons in my day, but mom...this was a SHARPIE! I'm never getting that off!!! So, please...if you're reading this, pray for my sanity and my son's safety, because I'm still pretty peeved, and it's been a good 5 hours since this happened! Deep breaths, Dee. Deep breaths. &lt;whew&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anywho, where was I going with this? Ah, yes...Santa. Well, when I get home tonight, we're going to have the little monster (otherwise known as Carl IV) "call" Santa, tell him how very bad he was, and apologize. I already told him Santa might have to give his presents to a good boy who isn't rude and destructive. Needless to say he was not pleased at that thought. I think I'm going to take down his stocking when I get home and pretend that Santa asked for it back until Carl could prove he wasn't a bad boy. We'll see...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6509760729386855678?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6509760729386855678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/12/ho-ho-ho-oly-crap.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6509760729386855678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6509760729386855678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/12/ho-ho-ho-oly-crap.html' title='Ho! Ho! Ho-oly CRAP!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sye4sQMH6yI/AAAAAAAAAIA/2bvWNl51Q3o/s72-c/Christmas.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-5634486999277673267</id><published>2009-12-09T13:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T13:40:42.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you mean it's almost Christmas?!?!</title><content type='html'>Seriously...what happened to 2009?! I can't believe in 2 weeks Paige will be 1. I can't believe Christmas is 2 days after that! Where did this year go?! It's amazing how differently time passes as an adult compared to when I was in school. I remember how the time between August (school starting) and Christmas felt like an eternity! Now I feel like I must've slipped into a coma at one point and missed a few months!&lt;br /&gt;We're going to be taking the kids to see Santa in the next week or so, and Carl IV is SO excited it's contagious! He calls Santa every day on his toy phone to tell him he's being good (whether that's the truth or not is often open for debate). We put up our Christmas tree on Sunday, and he's absolutely thrilled every morning when he walks into the living room and sees it all lit up with presents undeneath. It's the cutest stinkin' thing!&lt;br /&gt;Good news on the job front for Carl III. A friend of his from high school works for a trucking company down the road from our house that was looking for a new driver! The interview went beautifully, and he's starting on a trial basis once his background check clears! Basically, they're test-driving him to make sure he's as good in real life as he looks on paper, so if you know Carl, he'll have them impressed in no time!&lt;br /&gt;As for me, work is still going very well. I even had a client (who happens to be a friend of my boss) tell me, "You know, Jerry speaks very highly of you. I know what he's like, so he probably doesn't tell you to your face how impressed he is, but he knows good and damn well that without you he would be screwed." I was like, "Wow. Thanks!" That made my day. It's nice to know that I'm appreciated and that my work gets noticed!&lt;br /&gt;All in all things are going pretty well for the Rudegeairs. The only problem we keep encountering is Paige's teething...&lt;sigh&gt; it's amazing how you block things out from child 1 to child 2. I know Carl IV went through the same thing, but I can't remember it lasting this long, although I'm certain it did! Ah, well. I'll be sure to post the kids' picture with Santa once we make the trip to the mall. Whoops, did I say the mall? I mean the North Pole!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-5634486999277673267?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/5634486999277673267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-do-you-mean-its-almost-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5634486999277673267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/5634486999277673267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/12/what-do-you-mean-its-almost-christmas.html' title='What do you mean it&apos;s almost Christmas?!?!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7415674605025120884</id><published>2009-11-24T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T09:43:15.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paige's 1st Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6kFJvuI/AAAAAAAAAH4/SZveQiM2eNE/s1600/paige5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407726845985144546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6kFJvuI/AAAAAAAAAH4/SZveQiM2eNE/s320/paige5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6SgvtAI/AAAAAAAAAHw/ICH__XHo8Is/s1600/paige4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407726841269040130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6SgvtAI/AAAAAAAAAHw/ICH__XHo8Is/s320/paige4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6O8HfqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/N6x86bLAWJo/s1600/paige3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407726840310103714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6O8HfqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/N6x86bLAWJo/s320/paige3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa56jkJgI/AAAAAAAAAHg/JVI1Zk14aeA/s1600/paige2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407726834838414850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa56jkJgI/AAAAAAAAAHg/JVI1Zk14aeA/s320/paige2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa5i9dmtI/AAAAAAAAAHY/tfEZUjPeeqE/s1600/paige.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407726828504586962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa5i9dmtI/AAAAAAAAAHY/tfEZUjPeeqE/s320/paige.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know what you're thinking...didn't Paige just turn 11 months??? Yeah, yeah, but with her birthday being squished in with Christmas, and the fact that Carl III's cousin, Libby, was born on Christmas day (I don't want to steal her thunder), we decided to celebrate a little early. All in all a success...not that you have to do a lot to impress a (almost) 1 year old. Paige looked absolutely adorable in a dress my mom found (thanks, Nana Jules!), striped leggings that barely fit over her Michelin Man legs, and pigtails! She was thrilled with all the girly toys! It's funny how instinctive certain things are SO different between boys and girls. The first thing Carl does with a new toy is try and use it as either a weapon or a hammer. Paige grabbed every baby doll she got (keep in mind, I don't think she's seen one prior to this party) and hugged it SO HARD! Freakin' adorable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanksgiving is this Thursday...it's always a lot of fun, but a ridiculously long day. We start out in King of Prussia at the Turkey Bowl (a football game going on it's 12th year between Carl and a bunch of his friends), head home, shower, change, nap (hopefully!), then head out to Carl's Aunt Patty's house (about 45 minutes away), eat dinner, then we pack up and head over to Carl's other Aunt's house (this year it's his Aunt Karen...the Rudegeair side) and have dessert/drinks. &lt;sigh&gt;I'm tired just typing all that. Whew! Should be a good time all around, though. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, from the Rudegeairs to you and yours, Happy Thanksgiving!!! Gobble, gobble!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7415674605025120884?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7415674605025120884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/paiges-1st-birthday-party.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7415674605025120884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7415674605025120884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/paiges-1st-birthday-party.html' title='Paige&apos;s 1st Birthday Party'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Swwa6kFJvuI/AAAAAAAAAH4/SZveQiM2eNE/s72-c/paige5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2511066789447843023</id><published>2009-11-10T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T06:54:06.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Chill Out"</title><content type='html'>My son is hillarious. Don't get me wrong, he's also obnoxious, mischievous, whiney, etc. But fortunately he cracks me up more often than not. This past Saturday we went to an annual "Pumpkin Chunkin'" party that one of my clients has every year. Basically, he and his neighbors spend all year building these ridiculous contraptions that fling the pumpkins left over from Halloween across his property into his lake. Whoever's thingy-ma-jiggy flings it the furthest wins the title of Pumpkin Chunkin' Champion until next year. (side note: these people think southerners are rednecks?! Hello...) Anywho, I thought Carl IV would get a kick out of it, and at the very least it would be a nice way to occupy our time on a Saturday afternoon. So, we get out to this party, and Carl IV is instantly mesmorized by these giant slingshot thingies that hurl the pumpkins. I am like a broken record for the next 4 hours repeatedly saying, "No, sir. You may not. That can hurt you!" to which my son replies, "Be wight back," as he shoos me away with his hand. When I grab said hand to pull him back out of the way he looks me dead in the eye and says, "Chill out, mom." &lt;groan&gt; Are you kidding me?! My 2-year-old just told me to chill out! What a little parrot! I tell him that all the time! It's frightening the things this kid remembers! Then, he saw some teenage boy at the party hock a loogie (sp?), and for the remainder of the afternoon was attempting the same thing. Ugh. Boys are gross!&lt;br /&gt;We're having Paige's birthday party this Sunday so it's not all smooshed in with Christmas (not to mention that Carl's 13-year-old cousin already has to share her birthday with Christmas, and I don't want to steal her thunder anymore than that), so that should be a good time. Pictures to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2511066789447843023?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2511066789447843023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/chill-out.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2511066789447843023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2511066789447843023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/chill-out.html' title='&quot;Chill Out&quot;'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1655382648658811123</id><published>2009-11-02T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T14:00:59.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trick or Treat!</title><content type='html'>I know, I suck. Sorry, but it's been a crazy month between kids getting sick, Carl getting laid-off, working, etc., etc.&lt;br /&gt;So we took the kids trick-or-treating for Halloween, and I have to say that my kids are FREAKIN' ADORABLE! Ugh! It's too much for me to stand sometimes. It was so cool because Carl IV actually "got it" this year, and he was so excited! His enthusiasm was contagious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V74jezPI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/eTV73IsR7C4/s1600-h/p07.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628965522361586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V74jezPI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/eTV73IsR7C4/s200/p07.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7gsIcvI/AAAAAAAAAHI/KHIDAW99GQY/s1600-h/p06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628959116194546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7gsIcvI/AAAAAAAAAHI/KHIDAW99GQY/s200/p06.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7jo-V2I/AAAAAAAAAHA/qxbVEufKBLc/s1600-h/p04.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628959908255586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7jo-V2I/AAAAAAAAAHA/qxbVEufKBLc/s200/p04.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7S5l4NI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ErPO2VicB4k/s1600-h/p02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628955414552786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7S5l4NI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ErPO2VicB4k/s200/p02.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7ARKi2I/AAAAAAAAAGw/591ZuFSJgpw/s1600-h/p01.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628950413151074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V7ARKi2I/AAAAAAAAAGw/591ZuFSJgpw/s200/p01.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1655382648658811123?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1655382648658811123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/trick-or-treat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1655382648658811123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1655382648658811123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/11/trick-or-treat.html' title='Trick or Treat!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Su9V74jezPI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/eTV73IsR7C4/s72-c/p07.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-6058841406262621233</id><published>2009-09-28T12:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T12:43:37.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is there an echo in here?</title><content type='html'>Note to all parents whose children aren't talking yet: WATCH YOUR MOUTH!! Trust me, stop the potty-mouth thing now, or your children will store up every bad word they've ever heard you say only to shout them at the top of their lungs at the WORST possible moment!!&lt;br /&gt;Let me paint you a picture...the Rudegeair family is walking through Wal-Mart on a Saturday morning looking at Halloween costumes for the kiddies. While strolling through the little girls' aisle, Carl III says, "Why are all the little girl costumes so slutty? As a dad, that pisses me off!" To which Carl IV responds, "What slutty? Pissed?" Ugh! No, no, no, no, no!! I just broke his habit of saying , "Aw, crap!" because he'd heard me saying it (which was an edit from my prior, "Aw, shit!" which I heard him say once and was shamed into watching my language). So, trust me, parents...it's easier to start watching what you say from day 1, rather than wait until you have to "un-teach" them to say something. Yikes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-6058841406262621233?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/6058841406262621233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/09/is-there-echo-in-here.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6058841406262621233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/6058841406262621233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/09/is-there-echo-in-here.html' title='Is there an echo in here?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-3700318958079560390</id><published>2009-09-23T09:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T09:52:39.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time, no BLOG!</title><content type='html'>I know, I know...I'm a slacker. I haven't posted anything in forever! Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;So, a lot has happened since my last update. Paige is officially walking (yowza!), Carl IV is talking like a real person now, and Carl III and I went to Pensacola for my 10-year high school reunion. Whew! Busy, I know.&lt;br /&gt;First things first, can I just say once again what genetic FREAKS my kids are?! I mean, really...walking at 8 months?! Stop it. Paige has also recently discovered the joys of finger foods and hasn't looked back since. She has absolutely no interest in baby food and being spoon fed anymore. If she can't pick it up with her chubby fingers, she wants nothing to do with it. So, we're buying a lot of avocados, diced pears, frozen waffles, etc. She had some noodles with red sauce last night, and I'm telling you, the kid looked at me like, "Why were you feeding me that pureed crap for so long? You've been holding out on me!" It was hillarious!&lt;br /&gt;Onto Carl IV. It is the coolest thing in the world being able to hold a conversation with your kid. I actually sat down the other morning and had a conversation with my 2-year-old! Love it!&lt;br /&gt;Me: "So, buddy, what'd you have for lunch today?"&lt;br /&gt;Carl: "Umm...cheese...burger. Milk. All gone."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Wow, that sounds good!  What else happened today?"&lt;br /&gt;Carl: "I draw. I swim. I bike...fall...me too small."&lt;br /&gt;Really?! Could he be cuter?! Ugh!!!&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend Carl III and I went to Pensacola, and we left the kids with Carl's mom (God bless her!). They had a community day in our neighborhood, and she took the kids because they had all kinds of free rides and firetrucks, etc. All in all I think she said they were there for about 3 hours, and all went home and passed out for another couple of hours! Good times were had by all.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Carl and I were living it up in Pensacola. We stayed in a condo on the beach with some friends, and it was great being back for a visit. I have to say, it was nice to leave behind the 9billion% humidity and return to 34% humidity with a high of 72*. Ahhh...I love you, PA!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-3700318958079560390?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/3700318958079560390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/09/long-time-no-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3700318958079560390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/3700318958079560390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/09/long-time-no-blog.html' title='Long time, no BLOG!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1324506090080894983</id><published>2009-09-01T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T11:54:03.850-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1txZjn0OI/AAAAAAAAAFw/d58e3hgPZOA/s1600-h/paige.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376574225591554274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1txZjn0OI/AAAAAAAAAFw/d58e3hgPZOA/s320/paige.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1twxryYAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-y0bjxTrmYk/s1600-h/dig2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376574214888382466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1twxryYAI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-y0bjxTrmYk/s320/dig2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1twnfpddI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LyyUKTKtL-M/s1600-h/dig1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376574212153112018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1twnfpddI/AAAAAAAAAFg/LyyUKTKtL-M/s320/dig1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1twfW9CnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/rrgr_bdieLE/s1600-h/coaster.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376574209969162866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1twfW9CnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/rrgr_bdieLE/s320/coaster.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1324506090080894983?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1324506090080894983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/09/beach-pics.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1324506090080894983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1324506090080894983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/09/beach-pics.html' title='Beach Pics'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/Sp1txZjn0OI/AAAAAAAAAFw/d58e3hgPZOA/s72-c/paige.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2918589540928389100</id><published>2009-08-26T05:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T06:05:12.794-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BEACH! DIG!!</title><content type='html'>All this summer we have been trying to get over to the beach in Ocean City, NJ with the kids, but any time we finally set a date, the weather ruins everything! So, studying the weather forecast intensely we decided that this past Sunday showed promise. Carl's aunt Vicky has a house in Ocean City, so even if the random storm blew through, we'd have somewhere to bunker down until it passed.&lt;br /&gt;We told Carl IV about heading to the shore the day before we left, and all he said for the whole day was, "Beach! Dig!" because he found a new shovel that he's been told is for digging in the sand. ALL DAY LONG he was carrying this shovel around following anyone and everyone saying repeatedly, "Beach! Dig! BEACH! DIG! YAY!" Paige of course found this hillarious, and kept falling over on the floor laughing her head off. All in all a very loud Saturday at 1120 Egypt Road.&lt;br /&gt;Carl III and I woke up around 6 Sunday morning and packed all our crap up (on that note, I swear, I used to just take a towel and a book to the beach, but with kids it's like we're packing up for a month!). Before I even finished brushing my teeth, I could hear Carl IV in his bed singing to himself..."Beeeeach...Diiiig...Beeeeach...Diiiig..." What a weirdo. I opened his door, he popped up, ran to his dresser, pulled out his swim trunks, pulled them on, and ran to the front door with his shovel in hand. "Done. Less go (his saying Let's go)." All before my 1st cup of coffee. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;We finally arrived in Ocean City, and had a BLAST! He dug half-way to China, went in the water with my mom-in-law and Carl III, chased seagulls, etc. Then, we took showers and changed to head to the boardwalk for dinner and some rides. That's right, Floridians, rides! There's a whole mini-amusement park for kids right on the boardwalk! He rode a little kiddy roller coaster, the Tilt-a-Whirl, but his favorite was the Scream Machine. I have pics and video to put up soon, but I forgot my camera today, so you'll have to check back again soon...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2918589540928389100?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2918589540928389100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/beach-dig.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2918589540928389100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2918589540928389100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/beach-dig.html' title='BEACH! DIG!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-1391509080430710415</id><published>2009-08-17T11:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T11:48:45.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>*yawn* Ugh...</title><content type='html'>Let's just get this out in the open...I don't do babies. Even if they're mine, I just don't do babies. The crying, the drooling, the spitting up...ugh. Poor Paige has been absolutely miserable the past week. She's teething like crazy, and has the inevitable diarrhea that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accompanies&lt;/span&gt; incoming teeth (by the way, can someone please explain to me why those 2 go hand-in-hand?!), which has resulted in excessive wiping of her rear, giving my poor little lady the WORST diaper rash I have ever seen! Her little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hiney&lt;/span&gt; was bleeding on Saturday. So, I guess she has every right to be crying, etc. Still, I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday morning was a success, though. Rather than go to mass on Saturday evening again, I decided to try Sunday morning and see if that went any more smoothly. It was an especially brave endeavor, since Carl had volunteered to help a buddy take down a tree in his yard, I was going to be outnumbered. But, I knew if there was to be any hope in getting the kids used to church, it had to be a weekly thing. No excuses. So, I packed the munchkins up with books, bottles, graham crackers, etc. and headed to the church for 7:30 mass. Yes, I said 7:30. I used to go to the early mass all the time when I was pregnant, because I couldn't sleep anyway, and it's nice to go to church, and still have time to enjoy the rest of your day. So, I knew from experience that this early service was very no-frills. No music, no long-winded &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;homily&lt;/span&gt;, just the basics. This was exactly what we needed! We were out of there before Carl had even finished his juice, and Paige was only awake for about 10 minutes of the whole service! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Whoo&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hoo&lt;/span&gt;! We have a new plan! Mass at 7:30am Sunday, then to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dunkin&lt;/span&gt;' Donuts and the park! What a great day we had!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-1391509080430710415?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/1391509080430710415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/yawn-ugh.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1391509080430710415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/1391509080430710415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/yawn-ugh.html' title='*yawn* Ugh...'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2102206335928587264</id><published>2009-08-12T06:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T07:11:56.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little angels?</title><content type='html'>In the spirit of just having had the kids baptised, Carl and I decided to start packing up the whole fam-damily for mass on Saturday evenings and then having a family dinner out every week. Figured it could be a nice opportunity for family bonding. Sounds nice, right? Well, if this past Saturday was a sign of how it will always be, I know for certain now that God has a sense of humor. We are officially "that family" with "those kids" at church. My son is VERY 2, which means sitting for more than 2 minutes is so far out of the question is preposturous. And since Paige started crawling, she starts whining the second you pick her up off the floor. She's aparently a very busy girl with places to be, and me interrupting her crawling to these places is the most frustrating thing for her. I was anticipating these problems, so I loaded the diaper bag with toy dinosaurs, coloring books, animal crackers, Matchbox cars, a bottle, teething rings, Baby Orajel, etc...and that all worked beautifully...for about 3.5 minutes. I'm beginning to wonder if there's something pumped through the venting system at church, because my kids can be absolute angels all day, and the second we open the doors to church, they're like rabid monkies! Ugh! 43 long minutes later, we were piling into the car to head to dinner. We had made it through mass, how bad could dinner be?! My son is the happiest when he's got food in front of him! We decide to go to Friday's since it's a family restaurant, and it's early enough that a crying kid won't attract dirty looks. Keep in mind that by now it's almost 6:30, which is when Paige is usually snuggling up for the night with a nice bottle and her daddy in a rocking chair. So, the loud, bright atmosphere at Friday's was lost on her. She was miserable. Carl, on the other hand, was behaving as though he had been mainlining espresso for the past 2 hours! He was bouncing off the walls! Our poor waitress...I left her a really good tip, so I'm hoping they won't run screaming should we decide to go there again!&lt;br /&gt;That being said, in hindsight, things could've gone much worse than they did. I'm a firm believer in beginning as you intend to go on. So, this will be our Saturday evening routine for years to come. If they don't get used to going to church now, it's only going to be more difficult in the years to come. So, for those of you in the King of Prussia area, if you hear screaming children around 5 pm Saturday night, don't worry...it's just the Rudegeairs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2102206335928587264?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2102206335928587264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-angels.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2102206335928587264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2102206335928587264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/little-angels.html' title='Little angels?'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-645334271350322103</id><published>2009-08-05T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T10:44:15.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baptism...check!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE36V__QI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/FssQNw1RLig/s1600-h/dee7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366536895822036226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE36V__QI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/FssQNw1RLig/s320/dee7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE3oXW7yI/AAAAAAAAAFI/H--4jOA20Pk/s1600-h/dee4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366536890995896098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE3oXW7yI/AAAAAAAAAFI/H--4jOA20Pk/s320/dee4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE3YVEd3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/MQkV4Qeuqpw/s1600-h/dee3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366536886691329906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE3YVEd3I/AAAAAAAAAFA/MQkV4Qeuqpw/s320/dee3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE2ysAKCI/AAAAAAAAAE4/3LZQfE3MpdI/s1600-h/dee2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366536876586969122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE2ysAKCI/AAAAAAAAAE4/3LZQfE3MpdI/s320/dee2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE2tYOo9I/AAAAAAAAAEw/6sdh38WyoaA/s1600-h/dee6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366536875161854930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE2tYOo9I/AAAAAAAAAEw/6sdh38WyoaA/s320/dee6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At last! We finally had Carl and Paige baptised. It was a royal pain in the you-know-what getting everything in order, but the planets aligned and we pulled it off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom flew in from Pensacola on Thursday afternoon and stayed with us for the weekend, which was nice, but crowded. Fortunatly, we have a comfy couch, so I think she was okay. Friday was a pretty laid-back day of running errands, and Saturday we packed up and headed to the zoo. I have to say, this was our best trip to the zoo yet! Carl appreciates it more every time we go, which just makes it really fun to be there with him. It was ridiculously humid (I blame mom for bringing the stickiness with her from Florida), so we had ice cream...whew! That was messy, but delicious. I was EXTREMELY proud of my little potty-trained man. He made it the whole time without an accident! Granted, I was well-aware of the risk of an accident, and was therefore only giving him just enough water/juice to keep him alive! Still...it counts as a success! So, after trekking around the Philadelphia Zoo for a few hours, we were all exhausted and just hung out at the house the rest of the afternoon. Fast forward to Sunday morning (the day of the baptism) and the entire east coast is being SOAKED! I think Ryan put it best when he texted Carl that morning with: "Hmmm...the Rudegeairs are getting baptised the same day we're getting terrential downpour and severe thunderstorms...coincidence?" But, things dried out right before we had to head to the church, and it ended up being a relatively nice afternoon. To all that were there, thanks so much for being a part of such a special day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-645334271350322103?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/645334271350322103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/baptismcheck.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/645334271350322103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/645334271350322103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/08/baptismcheck.html' title='Baptism...check!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SnnE36V__QI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/FssQNw1RLig/s72-c/dee7.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-2827163349233821803</id><published>2009-07-20T05:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T06:08:11.449-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye, Size 5 Diapers!!</title><content type='html'>Yes, it's true! He's finally potty-trained! Accident-free for 2 days now! I'm so excited! &lt;whew&gt; It was exhausting, but it looks like he's finally got it. Poop and pee are now being deposited in the bright green frog potty instead of my son's pants (which is, from what I've heard, a major accomplishment)! As of Friday afternoon, we were kissing diapers goodbye, regardless of accidents, they were not in the picture. So, after cleaning up a couple of messes, I baracaded my son into the kitchen since it's easier to wipe pee off linoleum (sp?) than carpet. He did amazingly well. So, I decided to take the baby gates down and let him watch Thomas the Tank Engine (he loves this show, plus each little story is only about 4 minutes long, so lots of chances to go potty). While standing in the living room watching the show, sipping on his juice, I ask him, "Is it time to go potty? You've had a lot of juice...it's probably ready to come out now."&lt;br /&gt;"No pee," he replies. So I think to myself, "Okay. I'm not going to make him go sit on the potty if he doesn't have to go. The whole idea is for him to realize the feeling of having to go to the bathroom, and doing it." Not 30 seconds later, while still staring at the television, he pees on the living room floor. Aaaaaaagh! I was furious! I turned off the t.v., dragged him into the kitchen, popped him on the butt (for lying about not having to pee...don't judge me...I'm not pro-spanking, but sometimes [with my kid at least] it's the only way to get his attention!), and made him sit on the potty for 5 minutes. Then, after his five minutes were up, he had to take his wet shorts and underwear to the laundry, clean up the mess he made on the carpet, and practice running to the potty from every room of the house. From that point on, he was accident free, and has been going potty without being prompted or reminded! Hooray! Now...is 7-months too young to start the other one? I kid, I kid...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-2827163349233821803?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/2827163349233821803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/07/goodbye-size-5-diapers.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2827163349233821803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/2827163349233821803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/07/goodbye-size-5-diapers.html' title='Goodbye, Size 5 Diapers!!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1262252949307731195.post-7863808040139724976</id><published>2009-07-14T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T08:05:40.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn you, technology!</title><content type='html'>Grr...okay, so I didn't do that right. I'll try again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b90afc6c76fa1550" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db90afc6c76fa1550%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331450304%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7E3C9A24555AEB5054A5C5B11FCCED5F6217A043.48E69C84C7CB6E93009FBA748955F1F84BB9BEAE%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db90afc6c76fa1550%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dvq0gPkrM4yBfAf5odkOjI1A0xlc&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db90afc6c76fa1550%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331450304%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7E3C9A24555AEB5054A5C5B11FCCED5F6217A043.48E69C84C7CB6E93009FBA748955F1F84BB9BEAE%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db90afc6c76fa1550%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dvq0gPkrM4yBfAf5odkOjI1A0xlc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;SUCCESS!!!  Enjoy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1262252949307731195-7863808040139724976?l=rudegeairs.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b90afc6c76fa1550&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/feeds/7863808040139724976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/07/damn-you-technology.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7863808040139724976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1262252949307731195/posts/default/7863808040139724976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://rudegeairs.blogspot.com/2009/07/damn-you-technology.html' title='Damn you, technology!'/><author><name>The Rudegeairs</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04597643625340329748</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_r-diwkjtOGQ/SsuBomX3N5I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mnnoOr5sDt4/S220/fam.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
