<?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-1775047761848777418</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:46:14.628-08:00</updated><category term='embarassing'/><category term='rule the world'/><category term='Intro'/><category term='funny'/><category term='opinion'/><category term='adventures'/><category term='misc'/><category term='family'/><title type='text'>Life With Four Girls</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3812927007797428057</id><published>2010-06-04T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T20:15:30.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's About Time...</title><content type='html'>OK, so it's been like a year since I've posted.  Pretty sad, I know.  I've often wondered how to find the time and who really cares...but now I feel like this is somewhat of a journal.  And since I don't do a really good job of that anyway, this is better than nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what's been keeping me so busy lately???  I started another business.  Making beaded watches for a booth at the Quilted Bear in Provo.  It's only been up a few days, so we'll see about that.  Couple that with my TV news clipping business and I've been crazy busy.  Two businesses, four kids, one husband, a few church callings, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;couponing&lt;/span&gt;, and the day-to-day duties that come with being a mom...life is hectic.  But it's good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hubster&lt;/span&gt; is liking his job, but not the commute.  We're hoping he'll be able to work from home so we won't have to move, and so far that's looking like a real possibility.  We're not planning a move any time soon and we'll know for sure about the working from home thing in a couple of months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We survived the lay off.  It was hard.  Not kidding.  But what's better than a good trial to help you realize how blessed you really are and to make you rely more on our Heavenly Father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Teenie&lt;/span&gt; has just graduated from Jr. High and will be in 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade!  She just got her permit.  How's that for making one feel old?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweets is doing great and is happy that school's out.  She's going into the 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.  She's always asking me how she can help.  What a blessing she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blondie is still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt;.  Even after all these years I'm amazed at her eyes and hair and wonder where she came from.  I keep thinking she'll still turn dark like the rest of us, but it's so fun to have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;blondie&lt;/span&gt; in the family.  She's so goofy and fun all the time.  Here comes 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moog is the best hugger in the world.  She's going into the 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.  She just won the "Most Giggly" award in her class.  I'm so thankful she's in our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's impossible to catch up on what I've missed in the last year but I'm hoping to be better at this.  Stay tuned for more of my "If I Ruled The World" thoughts.  If you care... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3812927007797428057?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3812927007797428057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3812927007797428057' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3812927007797428057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3812927007797428057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-about-time.html' title='It&apos;s About Time...'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-4418318540544853305</id><published>2009-07-09T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T11:11:15.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pinching Your Pennies</title><content type='html'>OK, so PYP has been my life saver through this lay-off situation we've been in.  I can't tell you how much it has helped.  We have been able to last months longer than we would have before.  I am so grateful for PYP and friends who have helped me learn how to save so much!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-4418318540544853305?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/4418318540544853305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=4418318540544853305' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/4418318540544853305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/4418318540544853305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2009/07/pinching-your-pennies.html' title='Pinching Your Pennies'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-2262700373411899864</id><published>2009-05-28T11:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T11:38:51.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Job Status</title><content type='html'>OK, so you think it's time for me to post something?  I think life has been so overwhelming to me that the thought of a simple thing like posting something on my blog is more than I could handle.  But I think it's time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the job status.  Hubby got a sort-of-job at a company in Provo.  This is the company that developed that 100mpg electric engine made for larger cars/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SUVs&lt;/span&gt;.  You may have seen some news coverage on it, displayed in a Hummer.  They also are the company that opened up a geothermal power plant and has plans for more across the country.  Hubby covered stories involving this company when he worked as a reporter.  They took a liking to him and when he got laid off, they enlisted his help (freelance work) to coordinate media coverage.  Then they talked to him about a full time job.  He was expecting maybe a PR opening but the job turned out to be IR (investor relations.)  They knew he didn't have any investor/finance experience but they thought his strengths in the relations part of it were strong and that he could learn the rest.  So they hired him on a 90 day trial basis, to make sure he likes it, they like him, things work out.  So far so good.  He's liking the job and enjoying it.  But the commute is no fun at all, so if this job turns permanent, we'll have to weigh our options and see if moving is an option.  Working from home a few days a week may be an option as well, but only time will tell.  He's about 1 month in right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So life is still kind of up in the air, but we are happy to have income and a job that he enjoys! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm adjusting to having a husband who works regular hours and trying to get everything done.  I've actually been pretty overwhelmed but I'm adjusting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there's the update.  For other important news...did anyone else enjoy the Office finale as much as I did?  I was a bit bummed that it was only 1/2 hour, though.  The opening clock-changing scene was hilarious and Dwight's laugh haunts me in my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-2262700373411899864?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/2262700373411899864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=2262700373411899864' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2262700373411899864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2262700373411899864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2009/05/job-status.html' title='Job Status'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-6639521644629315100</id><published>2009-02-11T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T06:53:46.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Trials</title><content type='html'>OK, so it's been a long time.  I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubby got laid of on Sunday morning.  Monday night as we had Family Home Evening and we sang this song, it hit me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When sore trials came upon you,&lt;br /&gt;Did you think to pray?&lt;br /&gt;When your soul was full of sorrow,&lt;br /&gt;Balm of Gilead did you borrow&lt;br /&gt;At the gates of day?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how praying rests the weary!&lt;br /&gt;Prayer will change the night to day.&lt;br /&gt;So, when life gets dark and dreary,&lt;br /&gt;Don’t forget to pray&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We'll be OK.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-6639521644629315100?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/6639521644629315100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=6639521644629315100' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6639521644629315100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6639521644629315100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2009/02/trials.html' title='Trials'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-9106593270682242743</id><published>2009-01-02T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T22:00:52.212-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Resolutions</title><content type='html'>OK, so here are my resolutions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be a better wife&lt;br /&gt;To be a better mom&lt;br /&gt;To be a better friend&lt;br /&gt;To be a better daughter&lt;br /&gt;To be a better follower of Christ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I pretty much have to work on everything.  That's not too overwhelming is it?  New year...here I come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Oh, yeah and lose weight.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-9106593270682242743?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/9106593270682242743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=9106593270682242743' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/9106593270682242743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/9106593270682242743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2009/01/resolutions.html' title='Resolutions'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-1914783084610278188</id><published>2008-12-12T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T20:42:46.667-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intro'/><title type='text'>7 Random Things:</title><content type='html'>OK, so here they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I was born on Friday the 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, so was one of my sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  When I was a toddler I came down with spinal meningitis, spent 6 weeks in the hospital, had to learn to walk and talk again, etc.  I don't remember any of it, but it may explain a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I won a small community scholarship for voice, singing opera.  Yes, I know.  Don't knock it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I'm 33.  (Well, 34 tomorrow.)  I got married at 19, so I'm relatively young for people with kids my kids' ages.  When my youngest is 18, I'll only be 43. He he he...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I grew up in the same house my whole life, but since then, I've lived in 14 different houses, including 9 different cities and 5 different states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  Those who know me know that I'm an organizing freak, so much so, that I'm thinking of opening up a business.  But they may not know that up until I got married I was VERY messy.    Just ask Hubby what my apartment looked like when we were dating.  There's hope for anyone!  I even have a place where my organizing stuff is organized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  I've realized after doing this post that I'm actually quite uninteresting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-1914783084610278188?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/1914783084610278188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=1914783084610278188' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1914783084610278188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1914783084610278188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/12/7-random-things.html' title='7 Random Things:'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8299414391280459148</id><published>2008-12-11T19:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T19:51:47.663-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><title type='text'>EEEEEK!</title><content type='html'>OK, so four words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mouse&lt;br /&gt;Garage&lt;br /&gt;Traps&lt;br /&gt;Yuck&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8299414391280459148?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8299414391280459148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8299414391280459148' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8299414391280459148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8299414391280459148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/12/eeeeek.html' title='EEEEEK!'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-5741092527142148218</id><published>2008-12-05T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-07T07:59:43.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Health</title><content type='html'>OK, so a few days before Thanksgiving, me and my family spent an agonizing weekend thinking that I may have a incurable life-threatening disease. A call from the doctor indicating that all blood tests came back normal put me into such tearful gratitude. I'm so grateful for my health. I'm grateful for my husband's health. I'm grateful for my kids' health. Sweets was born with an eye disease that has blinded one of her eyes. But she's healthy. Today I woke up with a raging sore throat, and I'm home semi-sick. But I'm healthy. There is so much that can go wrong with our bodies. They are such meticulously detailed machines that miraculously run well day to day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we are not all healthy. I know there are many who suffer, who die. Which makes every day more of a miracle to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-5741092527142148218?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/5741092527142148218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=5741092527142148218' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5741092527142148218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5741092527142148218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/12/health.html' title='Health'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-6852589333584480545</id><published>2008-12-01T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T12:45:10.045-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Office Lines</title><content type='html'>OK, so I've been saving up some office lines for a while:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael: Did you know that in Morocco it is common to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;exchange&lt;/span&gt; a small gift when meeting somebody for the first time?  In Japan, you must always commit suicide to avoid embarrassment.  In Italy, you must always wash your hands after going to the bathroom.  This is considered to be polite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael:  Want to see some high caliber acting?  Well, Kurt Russell, you're about to be served.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy to Michael when he sees Michael's nice business class airplane seat:  Micheal G. Scott, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rollin&lt;/span&gt;' like a pi-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;omp&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-6852589333584480545?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/6852589333584480545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=6852589333584480545' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6852589333584480545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6852589333584480545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/12/office-lines.html' title='Office Lines'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-6747910689428463059</id><published>2008-12-01T12:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-01T12:39:33.339-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Stupid colors</title><content type='html'>OK, so for some reason, I can't change my fonts and colors.  So these colors don't match up with my background.  I'll figure it out when I have more time...  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-6747910689428463059?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/6747910689428463059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=6747910689428463059' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6747910689428463059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6747910689428463059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/12/stupid-colors.html' title='Stupid colors'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-6857861031888456082</id><published>2008-11-20T13:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T13:09:26.542-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>WHY AM I SO BUSY!?!?!</title><content type='html'>OK, so I'm done with Primary, life should be easier, right?  On Sundays it is...it's certainly a change to just sit and listen the whole time.  It makes my bum hurt.  But the rest of the week has been so crazy lately.  I haven't had any blogging time.  More posts to come soon, I promise.  I know this will make all of your days.  (That was sarcasm.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-6857861031888456082?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/6857861031888456082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=6857861031888456082' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6857861031888456082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6857861031888456082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/11/why-am-i-so-busy.html' title='WHY AM I SO BUSY!?!?!'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-4810585954703104087</id><published>2008-11-06T08:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T08:20:00.340-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Need a little humor today?</title><content type='html'>OK, so I think these are the two funniest videos on YouTube. Enjoy!&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ib0Tll3sGB0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Ib0Tll3sGB0&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_OBlgSz8sSM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_OBlgSz8sSM&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-4810585954703104087?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/4810585954703104087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=4810585954703104087' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/4810585954703104087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/4810585954703104087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/11/need-little-humor-today.html' title='Need a little humor today?'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-5098062683750322146</id><published>2008-11-02T08:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T16:25:45.093-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Favorite Office Lines of the Week</title><content type='html'>OK, so here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dwight and Andy setting up an interviewing skills showdown of sorts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Andy: When the hourglass strikes three, then in the room whence employees confer.&lt;br /&gt;Dwight: What?&lt;br /&gt;Andy: Conference room.&lt;br /&gt;Dwight: OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hourglass strikes three...awesome. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-5098062683750322146?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/5098062683750322146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=5098062683750322146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5098062683750322146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5098062683750322146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/11/favorite-office-lines-of-week.html' title='Favorite Office Lines of the Week'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3100905903316066913</id><published>2008-10-30T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T14:53:04.940-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rule the world'/><title type='text'>Holy Receipt!</title><content type='html'>OK, so I went to Robert's craft store the other day. The lady handed me this receipt. You may wonder how many things I bought. 25? 30? Get this: this is a receipt for TWO items...Yup, TWO! I included my computer mouse (and my knee) in the picture so as to give a point of reference for the gargantuan nature of the thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263067696909330306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SQosL3cdJ4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/47uoqHitZTs/s320/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon receiving this receipt, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;redundant&lt;/span&gt;, I know) I said to the cashier, "That is a large receipt for two items," to which she replied, "It's good for making snowflakes." Only at a craft store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refer to my "Rule the World" posts for my views on receipts and other important issues of today. I know you're dying to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3100905903316066913?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3100905903316066913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3100905903316066913' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3100905903316066913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3100905903316066913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/10/holy-receipt.html' title='Holy Receipt!'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SQosL3cdJ4I/AAAAAAAAAFY/47uoqHitZTs/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-913685944571412163</id><published>2008-10-29T11:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T16:26:26.785-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Happysad</title><content type='html'>OK, so when Moog was just a small toddler, learning to talk, she had this book of opposites: big, small; short, tall; etc. Her favorite page was happy, sad. Whenever we turned to that page, she would yell, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Happysad&lt;/span&gt;!" She said it like it was one word. This was a common song in our house:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: You are my...&lt;br /&gt;Moog: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Shushine&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Me: My only...&lt;br /&gt;Moog: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shushine&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;Me: You make me...&lt;br /&gt;Moog: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Happysad&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This word describes my feelings over the past week or so. I've been released from my calling in Primary. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Happysad&lt;/span&gt;. As I was handing my folder over to the new and WONDERFUL president, I said something that summed it up. I said, "I'm happy to be handing this part over, (pointing to the folder) I'm sad about that part (pointing to all the children.)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Happysad&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-913685944571412163?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/913685944571412163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=913685944571412163' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/913685944571412163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/913685944571412163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/10/happysad.html' title='Happysad'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-7163135669993861055</id><published>2008-10-24T12:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T16:26:58.799-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>Favorite Office Lines of the Week</title><content type='html'>OK, so I thought this would be fun to do every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; thinking about getting my own set of putt-putt golf clubs."&lt;br /&gt;-Michael Scott&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis walks in on Dwight whittling:&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis: "What are you making?"&lt;br /&gt;Dwight: "A knife."&lt;br /&gt;Phyllis: "You're making a knife with a knife?"&lt;br /&gt;Dwight: "You got a better way?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-7163135669993861055?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/7163135669993861055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=7163135669993861055' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7163135669993861055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7163135669993861055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/10/favorite-office-line-of-week.html' title='Favorite Office Lines of the Week'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8575895691313606876</id><published>2008-10-24T10:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T11:01:14.537-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>I am...</title><content type='html'>OK, so I'll give this a go...&lt;br /&gt;I am...Susan (that one was easy)&lt;br /&gt;I think...this will be hard&lt;br /&gt;I want...to see my kids grow up to be great people&lt;br /&gt;I have...the greatest husband on the planet&lt;br /&gt;I miss...my kids being small&lt;br /&gt;I feel...tired&lt;br /&gt;I hear...politics, politics, politics&lt;br /&gt;I smell...nothing, since I can't decide on dinner for tonight&lt;br /&gt;I crave...the ability to be a morning person&lt;br /&gt;I cry...when I stub my toe&lt;br /&gt;I search...the scriptures&lt;br /&gt;I wonder...about the future&lt;br /&gt;I regret...my wedding hat&lt;br /&gt;I wish...that money were never an issue&lt;br /&gt;I love...my family, of course&lt;br /&gt;I care...about sad people&lt;br /&gt;I always...feel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;inadequate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worry...too much that I've offended people&lt;br /&gt;I am not...on top of everything&lt;br /&gt;I remember...numbers.  I can freakishly remember random numbers from long ago.&lt;br /&gt;I believe...in the restored gospel of Jesus Christ&lt;br /&gt;I sing...all the time&lt;br /&gt;I don't always...wake up on time&lt;br /&gt;I argue...with myself in my head - creepy, I know&lt;br /&gt;I write...right now&lt;br /&gt;I lose...my keys on a regular basis&lt;br /&gt;I listen...to the spirit, but not enough&lt;br /&gt;I can usually be found...in my office&lt;br /&gt;I need...to moisturize :)&lt;br /&gt;I forget...where I put my purse&lt;br /&gt;I am happy...when my family is happy&lt;br /&gt;I AM TAGGING ALL OF YOU!! (Except for Andrea and Tina.  They already did it.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8575895691313606876?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8575895691313606876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8575895691313606876' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8575895691313606876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8575895691313606876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am.html' title='I am...'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3116092218074957977</id><published>2008-10-20T07:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-20T08:21:47.431-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><title type='text'>We're Baaaaaack!</title><content type='html'>OK, so we had a blast:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259251136359087682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPydCzdAvkI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2szyyMbzmBc/s320/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The view to the lobby of our hotel from our room. At the bottom left you can see a fake lion that sits on top of a rock and roars every half hour.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyeLHGS0_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/OahTmzNv5Es/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259252378583094258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyeLHGS0_I/AAAAAAAAAEo/OahTmzNv5Es/s320/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The glass elevators our kids practically wore out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259253698048226818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyfX6fS9gI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/en-xz_puEzI/s320/029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Indiana Jones ride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259253689660849186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyfXbPlvCI/AAAAAAAAAFI/ceRGjV0CbMc/s320/052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259253675639060578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyfWnAiOGI/AAAAAAAAAEw/c7c5kpvJcwQ/s320/055.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259253679093249282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyfWz4E9QI/AAAAAAAAAE4/YCdb2-IpOiM/s320/054.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259253686362137250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPyfXO9HYqI/AAAAAAAAAFA/UU5bxdeOxVg/s320/053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The highlights:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Seeing my brother and his family&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Looking over a beautiful view of my hometown&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our van making it the whole way&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Spending time with loved ones&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Watching the girls argue over who gets to sit next to whom and holding each other's hands&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Feet that recovered over night just in time to do it again the next day&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Moog getting chosen to be in a volunteer in a special effects show at Universal&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A great hotel at a cheap price, thanks to my brother&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The lowlights:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fraud on our debit card&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Long car rides&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Rude people&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The highs WAY outweighed the lows.  Great times. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3116092218074957977?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3116092218074957977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3116092218074957977' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3116092218074957977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3116092218074957977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/10/were-baaaaaack.html' title='We&apos;re Baaaaaack!'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SPydCzdAvkI/AAAAAAAAAEY/2szyyMbzmBc/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-7210112248506011494</id><published>2008-10-09T19:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T19:57:38.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And We're Off!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SO7ElhBUYqI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/YF5ds6cbumw/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255353963986051746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SO7ElhBUYqI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/YF5ds6cbumw/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/1775047761848777418-7210112248506011494?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/7210112248506011494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=7210112248506011494' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7210112248506011494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7210112248506011494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-were-off.html' title='And We&apos;re Off!!!'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SO7ElhBUYqI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/YF5ds6cbumw/s72-c/untitled.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-7267468026256837986</id><published>2008-09-29T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T12:57:44.613-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><title type='text'>Too Negative?</title><content type='html'>OK, so I'm thinking maybe I'm becoming a negative person.  I was reading over my blog a few days ago and it's all my pet peeves, what I would change about the world, things that drive me crazy.  I hope, if you know me, I'm not really that way in person all the time.  Maybe this is my place of therapy, where I come to vent.  So now I'm going to say something very positive:  I think this day's going to be so great!!!   Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-7267468026256837986?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/7267468026256837986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=7267468026256837986' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7267468026256837986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7267468026256837986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/too-negative.html' title='Too Negative?'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-4841051561522306450</id><published>2008-09-28T08:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T08:30:04.601-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='embarassing'/><title type='text'>Embarassing Moment</title><content type='html'>OK, so this is a moment I shared on my ward Relief Society Yahoo! Group.  So this may be a repeat to some of you, but oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a teenager, working a KFC drive through in Southern California,where you pretty much need to speak a fair amount of Spanish in order to function in such an environment, I took the order of a man with a VERY strong accent. He was ordering in English, but I couldn't understand a word he was trying to say. I informed him that I could take his order in Spanish, but he continued to speak English. I thought he must really want some practice, but when I still could not understand him, I suggested he speak in Spanish again. But he would not. I struggled for a while, but was finally able to take down his order, somehow. As he pulled up to the window it all made sense. He was Asian.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-4841051561522306450?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/4841051561522306450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=4841051561522306450' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/4841051561522306450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/4841051561522306450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/embarassing-moment.html' title='Embarassing Moment'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8695150079243224208</id><published>2008-09-18T15:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:20:34.523-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><title type='text'>Grumpy Price Matchers</title><content type='html'>OK, so Teenie has been doing this project for us lately. She's in Young Women's and has to do a 10 hour project for every Young Women value. (Faith, Divine Nature, etc.) So she decided to help in the home and family by trying to save us money by price matching, using coupons, etc. So she's been going through all the ads, using pinchingyourpennies.com, making shopping lists and all that. Then we go to Wal-Mart where they match any sale price from any store in the area. We come armed with our ads and do our shopping. In one month we saved $140.00! And on stuff we need, not just stuff on sale that we don't need. So now I'm a price matching addict. It's great, except when you get a grumpy price matcher. Those are the cashiers that roll their eyes (they think they are being discreet) when they see you coming with a basket full of stuff and a stack of ads in your hand. I even ask them, are you OK with price matching? Even though they should all be OK with price matching, because, after all, it is their job, I still ask, as if to send a message that they better not be grumpy with me. Most of them are happy price matchers. But some, not so much. It drives me crazy. It's their job. It's a service Wal-Mart offers, so it's a service no one should be rolling their eyes over. Sorry, had to vent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's going great. I try to find the cashiers who seem happy and I know which ones to stay away from. I'd rather wait in line for a polite one than to be stuck with a grumpy one. Hey, who can blame me for trying to save a little in this volatile time in our economy?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8695150079243224208?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8695150079243224208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8695150079243224208' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8695150079243224208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8695150079243224208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/grumpy-price-matchers.html' title='Grumpy Price Matchers'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-2523133266347112741</id><published>2008-09-18T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T15:51:15.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Kids are Too Old for My Saliva</title><content type='html'>OK, so I miss the days when my kids were little and I'd notice a spot of jelly on their cheek, I'd lick my thumb and wipe it for them.  That's standard mom procedure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day at church I noticed something a little sticky on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Moog's&lt;/span&gt; arm.  So I lick my finger and start rubbing.  Moog says, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Ewwww&lt;/span&gt;, Mom!  That's gross."  That's when it hit me that my babies are growing up.  Some milestones you can't wait for.  Last diaper, last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;car seat&lt;/span&gt;.  This one got me a little misty-eyed.  Love you, girls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-2523133266347112741?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/2523133266347112741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=2523133266347112741' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2523133266347112741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2523133266347112741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-kids-are-too-old-for-my-saliva.html' title='My Kids are Too Old for My Saliva'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8632410397479867238</id><published>2008-09-12T14:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-12T14:13:49.027-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Figured it Out</title><content type='html'>OK, so I figured it out.  Yay.  I can post again. :)  So bye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8632410397479867238?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8632410397479867238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8632410397479867238' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8632410397479867238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8632410397479867238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/figured-it-out.html' title='Figured it Out'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-1671098408957298702</id><published>2008-09-10T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T09:28:09.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Background?</title><content type='html'>OK, so I installed something on my computer and now I can't see my background.  Is it just me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-1671098408957298702?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/1671098408957298702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=1671098408957298702' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1671098408957298702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1671098408957298702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/background.html' title='Background?'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-5776970604115119889</id><published>2008-09-05T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T16:17:23.905-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>3's About Me</title><content type='html'>OK, so my high school bud Stacy sent me this email to fill in and send to others for fun.  I thought I'd post it here like she did.  Yes, Stacy, I'm copying you.  Sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three jobs I have Had :&lt;br /&gt;1. TV News clipping service owner&lt;br /&gt;2.  Pizza Hut waitress&lt;br /&gt;3.  Counselor at YMCA summer day camp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three places I have lived:&lt;br /&gt;1. Valencia, Ca.&lt;br /&gt;2. Yakima and Spokane, WA&lt;br /&gt;3. Cranston, RI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three shows that I watch:&lt;br /&gt;1. Lost&lt;br /&gt;2. Heroes&lt;br /&gt;3. The Office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three places I have been:&lt;br /&gt;1. Martha's Vineyard&lt;br /&gt;2. Niagara Falls&lt;br /&gt;3. Cape Cod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three people who email me often:&lt;br /&gt;1. Business clients&lt;br /&gt;2. Business clients&lt;br /&gt;3. Business clients&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three of my favorite foods:&lt;br /&gt;1. Stuffed grape leaves&lt;br /&gt;2. Pizza&lt;br /&gt;3. Fetuccini alfredo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three places I'd rather be right now:&lt;br /&gt;1. California visiting my brother (and friends :)&lt;br /&gt;2. Hawaii (never been)&lt;br /&gt;3. Narragansett Beach, RI&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three friends I think will respond:&lt;br /&gt;1. Kami&lt;br /&gt;2. Tina&lt;br /&gt;3. Joni&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three things I am looking forward to this year:&lt;br /&gt;1. Celine Dion Concert&lt;br /&gt;2. Christmas&lt;br /&gt;3. All my kids in school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stacy also added a few which I'll probably copy from her later.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-5776970604115119889?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/5776970604115119889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=5776970604115119889' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5776970604115119889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5776970604115119889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/3s-about-me.html' title='3&apos;s About Me'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3254277871811571189</id><published>2008-09-02T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T16:18:04.061-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><title type='text'>Bummers</title><content type='html'>OK, so you know how life can be pretty OK, but then you come across a few bummers all in the same period of time...OK, maybe you don't but here are the things that bummed me out this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1-My &lt;a href="http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-i-made-tiny-difference.html"&gt;blockbuster section&lt;/a&gt; is gone. Just when you think you made a difference...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2-Hubby and I are big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Quiznos&lt;/span&gt; fans. We got a couple of sandwiches from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Quiznos&lt;/span&gt; the other night. We were looking forward to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Quiznos&lt;/span&gt; and a movie. We got all set up, opened our sandwiches, and they were WAY smaller than normal. Same size in length, but much skinnier! They were so much skinnier they were almost half their usual size. We called &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Quiznos&lt;/span&gt; and they said that in order to save money they had to make their bread skinnier and put less meat on because of the economy, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;bla&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bla&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;bla&lt;/span&gt;. Same price, smaller sub. Not happy. Bye &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Quiznos&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3-Along the same unhealthy take-out food gripes, we saw a commercial for Pizza Hut Pizza Mia $5.00 pizzas. One night when we did not feel like cooking, we decided to try. We realized they wouldn't be Pizza Hut's normal pizza, but it's Pizza Hut! How bad could they be? The answer is bad, very bad. Not a good deal at all. Not only were they lacking in size, but they left like 3 inches of bland crust around the outside with a small circle of the cheese and toppings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there any such thing as a good deal anymore? What is this world coming to?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3254277871811571189?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3254277871811571189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3254277871811571189' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3254277871811571189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3254277871811571189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/09/bummers.html' title='Bummers'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3247523458808161688</id><published>2008-08-25T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T16:17:49.917-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>FREEDOM!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SLLiM8h_lGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/FnIsdSOziyA/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238498028620321890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SLLiM8h_lGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/FnIsdSOziyA/s200/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, so I'm free for a few hours every day. The kids have started school. But, as I have learned, it does not mean that you have all this extra time, like you think it would. They just give you more stuff to do, like be primary president, volunteer at the schools, etc. Plus a home business...you know what I mean. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The one thing that's great...I clean the house in the morning, and it actually stays clean until at least 3:30 in the afternoon. LOVE that! :) Happy first day of school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3247523458808161688?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3247523458808161688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3247523458808161688' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3247523458808161688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3247523458808161688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/freedom.html' title='FREEDOM!'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SLLiM8h_lGI/AAAAAAAAAEI/FnIsdSOziyA/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8615834908590563425</id><published>2008-08-20T11:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T09:49:10.473-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rule the world'/><title type='text'>Eternal Office</title><content type='html'>OK, so if I ruled the world, The Office would have a new episode every week for the rest of my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8615834908590563425?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8615834908590563425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8615834908590563425' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8615834908590563425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8615834908590563425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/eternal-office.html' title='Eternal Office'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-2998696234941984295</id><published>2008-08-16T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:08:04.217-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Grounded Boredom</title><content type='html'>OK, so my kids are generally great kids. But as with any other kid, sometimes the need arises for a kid to be grounded. Such was the case this week for my Moog. When she finally realized I wasn't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ungrounding&lt;/span&gt; her she got creative to beat her boredom. This is what I found when I walked in my bedroom:&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235208286256936418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SKcyMvOGteI/AAAAAAAAAD4/LMtiRDePmVA/s200/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235208293536179650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SKcyNKVnJcI/AAAAAAAAAEA/WyIZkDkhPU0/s200/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;She proceeded to eat the granola bar with her knife and fork till it was gone. Yes, those are little packets of salt and pepper, too. He he he.&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/1775047761848777418-2998696234941984295?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/2998696234941984295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=2998696234941984295' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2998696234941984295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2998696234941984295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/grounded-boredom.html' title='Grounded Boredom'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SKcyMvOGteI/AAAAAAAAAD4/LMtiRDePmVA/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8945496239214496981</id><published>2008-08-14T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:11:40.469-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rule the world'/><title type='text'>More Rule the World Musings</title><content type='html'>OK, so I thought of a couple more things that drive me insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I Ruled the World...&lt;br /&gt;1.  Cashiers would be required to discontinue the practice of placing the change on top of the dollar bills they give you, so as not to burden customers with change sliding and falling on to the floor.  Change, then bills, people!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  The use of proper capitalization and punctuation would be restored to the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  The automatic toilets in public restrooms would not flush while you are still on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Public restroom toilet seats would not slide around and make you feel like you're going to fall in. (I have a lot of public restroom pet peeves if you haven't noticed.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I would probably not be making lists of things I would change if I ruled the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8945496239214496981?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8945496239214496981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8945496239214496981' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8945496239214496981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8945496239214496981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/more-rule-world-musings.html' title='More Rule the World Musings'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-7233326520364436414</id><published>2008-08-08T13:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:08:53.485-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Puppet Shows Pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SJynt05BerI/AAAAAAAAADo/frwCMrLkG1E/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232241272831441586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SJynt05BerI/AAAAAAAAADo/frwCMrLkG1E/s200/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SJynuJHCwSI/AAAAAAAAADw/IAHe0gq-ZGs/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232241278258954530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SJynuJHCwSI/AAAAAAAAADw/IAHe0gq-ZGs/s200/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, so it's pretty good that I'm posting twice in one day, isn't it? So I thought I'd share some pictures of the neighborhood puppet show. After the show, the kids let the little audience try out the puppets...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-7233326520364436414?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/7233326520364436414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=7233326520364436414' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7233326520364436414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7233326520364436414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/puppet-shows-pics.html' title='Puppet Shows Pics'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SJynt05BerI/AAAAAAAAADo/frwCMrLkG1E/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3360070355369821328</id><published>2008-08-08T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:11:40.469-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rule the world'/><title type='text'>And the Results...If I Ruled the World</title><content type='html'>OK, so I've had some great responses for things we would change if we ruled the world.  Check the comment section of that &lt;a href="http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/07/few-items.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; to see what others say.  I'm always thinking of more, but here's the first installment of what I'm sure will be many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I Ruled the World...&lt;br /&gt;1. Public bathroom stalls would be required to have a no more than 1/8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; inch gap around the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. People would be required to pronounce words the right way, i.e. "probably" instead of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;provaly&lt;/span&gt;,"  "jewelry" instead of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;jewlery&lt;/span&gt;," and "supposedly" instead of "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;supposebly&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  President Bush would not be immune to that law.  He'll have to learn to correctly pronounce the word "nuclear."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  Store receipts would be just long enough to reflect the amount of stuff you buy.  If I go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart and buy one item, my receipt should be one item long.  No coupons, surveys, sweepstakes or any other junk should be on my receipt.  (I've even been tempted to rip the receipt in half and give the junk part back to the cashier.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  When you do buy one item and get a 3 foot long receipt, and the cashier folds it, then folds it, then folds it again as to make it a more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;manageable&lt;/span&gt; size, she should at least have the courtesy to make sure those folds are small enough to fit in your wallet or purse.  (That one's from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;friend&lt;/span&gt; T.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I would declare that if we can put a man on the moon, we can surely make windshield wipers that clean that little triangle on the bottom of the windshield.  (I know, that one I'm sure is just me but it drives me crazy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for my next installment of "If I Ruled the World."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3360070355369821328?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3360070355369821328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3360070355369821328' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3360070355369821328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3360070355369821328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-resultsif-i-ruled-world.html' title='And the Results...If I Ruled the World'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-9096427630125982595</id><published>2008-08-02T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:08:53.486-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Things I Do That Drive My Hubby Crazy</title><content type='html'>OK, so I like to think I'm a pretty organized and clean person, but I have many faults in that area as well.  Some of these things drive my poor hubby crazy, because he's pretty clean and organized himself.  (I know, I scored.)  I thought, in the spirit of humility and compromise, I would acknowledge a few things I know I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  I find myself purposely leaving two squares on the toilet paper roll so when he asks why I didn't change it I can say that there was still a little bit left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I am NOT a morning person.  It takes me a while to be able to function properly in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I AM a night person.  I could stay up till the wee hours reading a good book every night, but I really try to control this tendency.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  I leave my pajamas and makeup out all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  I make the puppy dog face and ask him to get me stuff all the time.  And he does. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  I hate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;vacuuming&lt;/span&gt;, making beds, and grocery shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know there are NOT just five.  But my hubby puts up with me so well.  I'm blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-9096427630125982595?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/9096427630125982595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=9096427630125982595' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/9096427630125982595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/9096427630125982595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/08/things-i-do-that-drive-my-hubby-crazy.html' title='Things I Do That Drive My Hubby Crazy'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-2416345736359094249</id><published>2008-07-23T17:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:08:53.487-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>If we build it, they will come.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRTWpVzTI/AAAAAAAAACg/y8kfZyet1pA/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226376023013444914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRTWpVzTI/AAAAAAAAACg/y8kfZyet1pA/s200/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRFAB5B6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/R4198JozWSI/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226375776424232866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRFAB5B6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/R4198JozWSI/s200/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, so I have a pretty creative kid. Sweets has been putting on these neighborhood puppet shows with her friends. They got this old cardboard box and made it into a puppet theater (not pictured.) They decided to pass out fliers to many of the homes in the neighborhood to advertise their puppet show. They set up shop at the neighborhood park across the street with their homemade puppets, cardboard box, posted signs, and even set out blankets and chairs for the audience. They also sold popcorn and lemonade for 25 cents. (The show is free.) They even made a punch card. If you come to the show 6 times you get a free popcorn. They're so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;entrepreneurial&lt;/span&gt; these days, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to admit, I didn't pay much attention to it the first time. I didn't think it would actually be a success. But they proved me wrong! People came! And quite a few! Moms brought their little ones and kids came from around the block. They bought popcorn and lemonade and it was great! They've been doing it about twice a week since then, but their poor cardboard box couldn't hold out for longer than a few shows. So Hubby and I decided to build them a puppet theatre. (Yes, re, not er. I think that's supposed to make it more fancy.) It's just plywood, hinges and some cute touches. Hubby did all the labor and I did the paint and curtains. Just imagine some puppets instead of Sweet's head.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe in about 15 years it will pay itself off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRFAB5B6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/R4198JozWSI/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRFAB5B6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/R4198JozWSI/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRFAB5B6I/AAAAAAAAACQ/R4198JozWSI/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&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/1775047761848777418-2416345736359094249?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/2416345736359094249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=2416345736359094249' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2416345736359094249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/2416345736359094249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/07/if-we-build-it-they-will-come.html' title='If we build it, they will come.'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIfRTWpVzTI/AAAAAAAAACg/y8kfZyet1pA/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-6104436504730948179</id><published>2008-07-23T08:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:10:18.400-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Blurry Moose</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIdLFLDrVpI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-9BgrsNxXDM/s1600-h/Yellowstone+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226228444826392210" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="171" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIdLFLDrVpI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-9BgrsNxXDM/s320/Yellowstone+016.JPG" width="248" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK, so while we were up at Yellowstone, we saw a multitude of bison and elk. It was exciting when we saw one bison by the road, a few elk watching us from under the bridge. It was especially exciting to see the car right in front of us come within inches of hitting a deer that darted into the road. But after seeing herds and herds of elk and bison, I was hoping for a moose. I figured it was pretty much hopeless as we were on our way out of the park for the day. It was just starting to get dark and we were ready to go back to our hotel and crash. (Or swim in the pool if the kids get their way...and they did.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we're driving and we see a few cars pulled over to the side of the road. We think, "cool...another bison," (in a robot-like voice.) But as we look closer, hark and behold a moose! I was so excited. So we pull over to the side of the road and get out to get a better look. Mind you, the moose was somewhat under a bridge and we felt we were at a safe distance as to not put ourselves in danger by getting out. We bring our cameras, and as I have the moose in my digital camera's little screen, something catches my eye. Like two or three mosquitoes on each of my arms. So I freak. And as I freak, everyone else starts freaking. We are in a nasty swarm of them! And these are not your run of the mill household mosquito. These are not your typical &lt;a href="http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/10/mosquito-wars.html"&gt;Moz.&lt;/a&gt; These are attack mosquitoes that don't care if you're moving or slapping or freaking. So we start running around like a bunch of lunatics with our arms waving over our heads. More cars are stopping and I'm not sure if they see the moose or they want to see the crazy people running around in circles waving their arms. "Look mom, a family of nut jobs! Let's take a picture. Just from the car, though because we're not supposed to approach wild animals."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long story short(er) I manage to get one blurry picture and Hubby manages some shaky video. The wise people at Yellowstone say to not approach wildlife as you may be attacked. They never said it would be by mosquitoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ruled the world, mosquitoes would not exist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-6104436504730948179?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/6104436504730948179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=6104436504730948179' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6104436504730948179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/6104436504730948179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/07/blurry-moose.html' title='Blurry Moose'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIdLFLDrVpI/AAAAAAAAAB4/-9BgrsNxXDM/s72-c/Yellowstone+016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-3564551117199902741</id><published>2008-07-18T21:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:11:40.470-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rule the world'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>A few items</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIFw2A3bp7I/AAAAAAAAABg/rzPcIZN1uJw/s1600-h/tp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224581115974231986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIFw2A3bp7I/AAAAAAAAABg/rzPcIZN1uJw/s200/tp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, so it's been a while. I really don't know how a lot of you find the time to post on your blogs! You like the new look? I thought a new look would make it fun again and I'd post more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few items to update:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1-Basement is DONE! No more trips to Home Depot! We now have two more bedrooms, one bath, one family room, and a teeny tiny kitchenette. We have plenty of room for visitors now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2-Family members previously sick are much better. We are very grateful for that. It was a bit scary for Hubby's mom and my brother J. So glad they're feeling better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3-Yes, we still love our dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-We just got back from vacation. That was an adventure. We went to Jackson Hole. As we're driving up there, we hear what sounded like an explosion and Hubby's driver's side window was shattered into a million pieces. Whatever hit it, didn't hit Hubby's head. What a blessing. We had to spend the whole vacation with no window, but we still had a blast. Poor Hubby has one tan arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;5-My &lt;a href="http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-i-made-tiny-difference.html"&gt;Blockbuster section&lt;/a&gt; is still there! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;6-A favor: I've been thinking for a while about a post I would love to call, "If I Ruled the World." Maybe it's just me lately, but I've been noticing so many little annoyances in life that drive me a tiny bit more insane each day. Such as: If I ruled the world, it would be illegal for rest stop bathrooms to install toilet paper dispensers that only rotate one time, then lock up, so as to give you about four square inches with which to you-know-what. On to the favor. Please share with me what you would change if you ruled the world. Once I get a good collection going, I'll post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that about does it for me now. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-3564551117199902741?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/3564551117199902741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=3564551117199902741' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3564551117199902741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/3564551117199902741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/07/few-items.html' title='A few items'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/SIFw2A3bp7I/AAAAAAAAABg/rzPcIZN1uJw/s72-c/tp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-7977345470368059400</id><published>2008-03-21T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:08:53.488-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Oh Yeah, I Have a Blog</title><content type='html'>OK, so I forgot I have a blog. Heather reminded me. Actually I didn't forget, I just have barely had time to have a shower, much less post on my blog. We have been finishing our basement, we have four kids, we have a dog, we have 3 jobs between us, we have church callings that keep us, especially me, very busy, we have enough to keep 10 people busy, but there are only two of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home Depot is my new home away from home. It's not so bad, when you think about it. They have kitchens and toilets everywhere! It's so convenient. Actually, I've been there so much I'm on a first name basis with the people in electrical. It almost got to the point where they had my stuff ready for me when I got there because they knew what we were going to need next. It's quite pathetic. One day I spent 4 hours going back and forth while my husband worked tirelessly in the basement. I think we used like 800 of our cell phone minutes that day. Are there even that many minutes in a day? I guess so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to think of something totally amazing and hilarious to share. Life has been Ho Hum lately, but I think that's really a blessing in disguise. It's the drama I don't want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I have posted on my blog. I remember that I do have one. This is good for me. It puts me in the frame of mind to try finding humor in each day, so I can share it with everyone. All two of you who read. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-7977345470368059400?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/7977345470368059400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=7977345470368059400' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7977345470368059400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/7977345470368059400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2008/03/oh-yeah-i-have-blog.html' title='Oh Yeah, I Have a Blog'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-8846360913753379420</id><published>2007-11-10T19:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:08:53.489-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>The Dog Honeymoon is Over</title><content type='html'>OK, so the dog honeymoon is pretty much over.  We totally knew this would happen.  When I say "we" I mean me and my husband.  The kids...not so much.  When we were considering the dog thing, the kids were all excited to be picking up poop, bathing her, walking her and everything else that comes with owning a dog.  And for a while, they were all too happy to help.  I have to give them credit.  It lasted longer than I expected.  But now...nah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       But when I say the honeymoon is over, I don't mean we love her any less.  In fact, we love her more.  But I knew that loving her poop wouldn't last forever.  We've now assigned "poop days."  The girls take turns being in charge of Ella for one day.  They walk her, clean up after her, and so on.  And I have to say, this system is working well so far.  I'll keep you posted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-8846360913753379420?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/8846360913753379420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=8846360913753379420' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8846360913753379420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/8846360913753379420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/11/dog-honeymoon-is-over.html' title='The Dog Honeymoon is Over'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-1021992740568587222</id><published>2007-11-09T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:11:40.471-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><title type='text'>What Happened to Thanksgiving?</title><content type='html'>OK, so there are two local radio stations that started playing Christmas songs 24/7 the day after Halloween. Wal-Mart is playing Christmas carols. There are trees and decorations everywhere you go. Our city hall has put up decorations. By time Christmas actually does come, I'll be so sick of it we'll probably take down our tree and decorations December 26. How fun is that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why does our society have to be so commercial and money hungry that we can't enjoy Thanksgiving. We go right to the season of wanting, receiving, buying and spending, and skip the season of bounty and thanks. That makes no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the first to admit I'm a grinch. In October and November I am. The day after Thanksgiving I'll be the first to play my Christmas CDs, deck the halls, and make wassail. But until then, I will de-program two radio stations from my car radio, plug my ears at Wal-Mart and do what I can to give thanks for the oh-so-many blessings I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-1021992740568587222?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/1021992740568587222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=1021992740568587222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1021992740568587222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1021992740568587222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/11/what-happened-to-thanksgiving.html' title='What Happened to Thanksgiving?'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-5668943398581851667</id><published>2007-10-24T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:10:18.404-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><title type='text'>Mosquito Wars</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/Rx9ipYvIX1I/AAAAAAAAABA/VwyscP0cQiI/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124923364125204306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/Rx9ipYvIX1I/AAAAAAAAABA/VwyscP0cQiI/s200/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK, so the other night I got a horrible night's sleep. It really wasn't funny at the time, but now...well, you can decide for yourself. This particular night, Hubby happened to be away, so I was looking forward to being a bed hog and getting a solid night's sleep. The mosquito in my bedroom had other plans for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went to bed at about 10:15 or so and as I was almost asleep, I heard that annoying buzzing by my ear. You know the kind that freaks you out and makes you smack the side of your head really hard? I knew right away it was a mosquito. I hate them. So I get out of bed and turn on the lights to find the wretched thing, and of course, nothing. But now I'm too paranoid to go back to sleep without the knowledge that my little friend is smushed and dead. I can't stand the thought of a tiny creature sucking out my blood as I unknowingly sleep. I resolve to win the battle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After searching and searching, Moz, as I like to call him, (for my fellow Office watchers) is still nowhere to be found. So I decide to read my book until I catch him out of the corner of my eye. I guess somewhere in the back of my mind I think I'll actually be able to fool him into thinking I'm just innocently reading my book. But maybe I'm not so dumb because it works! Moz lands on the headboard. I have a perfect shot at him. But isn't it always the perfect opportunities that are missed? Especially with mosquitoes. Needless to say, I missed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I opened my door hoping he'd escape into some other part of my house and then continued to read. Nothing. I get so tired I turn off the lights and try to sleep hoping he's out. I probably get about 20 minutes of sleep in when another bzzzzzzzzz by my hear and SLAP! Ugh. I'm so frustrated now. I turn on the lights and Moz has found yet another hiding spot. Now I'm mad and determined to win. I start reading again, and after a few minutes my little buddy lands on my arm. YES! I slap my arm so hard I practically have finger welts. I'm pretty sure I got him but there's no evidence! No little smushed mosquito body anywhere to be found! No smear on my hand, nothing. So now I'm paranoid that I'm sleeping with a mosquito carcass in my sheets. I practically strip the bed looking for the thing. I'm still pretty sure I got it, but I want proof. Nothing. The only piece of evidence left behind is the itchy welt forming on my arm. UGH! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;By now I'm so worked up it takes forever for me to fall asleep. I think it was after one before I did finally sleep. I'm really not sure who won the battle. I think Moz is dead, but I'm left with puffy eyes and a Moz bite. Stupid Moz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-5668943398581851667?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/5668943398581851667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=5668943398581851667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5668943398581851667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5668943398581851667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/10/mosquito-wars.html' title='Mosquito Wars'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/Rx9ipYvIX1I/AAAAAAAAABA/VwyscP0cQiI/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-5855635364967215702</id><published>2007-10-05T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:12:19.076-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='misc'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='opinion'/><title type='text'>How I Made a Tiny Difference</title><content type='html'>OK, so I get excited about little things. My kids like to watch movies, especially when they're being babysat for our dates. So when it's time to go to Blockbuster to pick out a movie, they always want to come and have their fair say in what we get. It's not always pretty, but that's beside the point. My kids have watched most of the "old releases" that are displayed in the middle of the store. So in order find something that they want to see, we are forced to look through the New Releases along the walls of the store. Have you been there lately? The DVD covers are getting more and more disturbing all the time. Some are of people in various compromising positions, some are of people practically naked, some are downright evil looking. I decided I couldn't take my kids to Blockbuster anymore when my kids were looking for movies with one hand shielding their eyes until I could tell them when it was safe to look. I had to resort to going by myself and facing the wrath of my kids if I didn't get what they wanted. (No, they're not that bad.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blockbuster's new release section has one small area with little kiddie movies like Dora the Explorer. My kids are ages 7-12, not young enough for Dora, but not old enough to be looking at some of those graphic images. So I suggested to the cashier that they rearrange their new release section to make a "Family" new release section where they would keep PG and family oriented movies like "Night at the Museum" and such. The cashier said that corporate tells them exactly how to arrange things and changes have to be made through them. I figured it was a lost cause, and then one day as I was on the Internet, I thought, what the heck? So I went to Blockbuster.com and emailed my predicament and suggestion to them. I made sure to appeal to their bottom line in saying that they're missing out on the children begging for candy and popcorn at the check out stand. I got back one of those automated emails that says they'll contact me within two days. After four days I figured they were like every other big company and wrote me off, or didn't even look at my email.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So five days later I receive a phone call from Blockbuster's Regional Manager for our region. She says that they liked my idea and decided to implement it in our local store, and if it worked out well they might implement it everywhere. She said it would take a couple of weeks, but to keep my eye open for a new section. So last night I went to rent a movie for the kids and low and behold, a new release family section. I couldn't believe it. It was so exciting to see that my little effort had paid off and hopefully made a tiny bit of difference for other moms. I don't know, it was just so satisfying. I was impressed at their willingness to make changes and listen to a little person like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was beaming as I paid for our movie and told the cashiers that they could blame me for the new section. (I could tell they were a tiny bit annoyed at having to rearrange and get used to a new system.) But boo hoo for them. :) They then informed me that another store in the area has already adopted the new system as well. Double happy. :) :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If any of you out there are pleased with this change, let them know. Let's make this a permanent change in every Blockbuster!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm back to bringing my kids to Blockbuster. It's still not a pretty scene sometimes, but at least now we can have our meltdowns in the family section.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-5855635364967215702?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/5855635364967215702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=5855635364967215702' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5855635364967215702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/5855635364967215702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/10/how-i-made-tiny-difference.html' title='How I Made a Tiny Difference'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-521055129934207776</id><published>2007-09-25T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:10:18.405-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adventures'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Family Day Gone Bad (I hate orange barrels)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvmSoIvIX0I/AAAAAAAAAA4/sim0SQBI5YM/s1600-h/images.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114280070093496130" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvmSoIvIX0I/AAAAAAAAAA4/sim0SQBI5YM/s320/images.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, so the other day we decided to do something fun as a family. We decided to go downtown, get some lunch, and take the kids to the Planetarium. Hubby had to be back at work by 3:45 or so and we figured we had plenty of time to play and then he could go right to work...or so we thought.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;First snag: Traffic. There's always some kind of construction going on any time, any where around here. Sometimes I wonder if there's a orange barrel shortage across the country because I think we have every last one of them here. I know, we should have planned for it, but no, that would be smart. So we get downtown later than we had planned so we decide to do the Planetarium first, then eat. We finally arrive at the Planetarium, and what do we run into? Orange barrels of course. They're everywhere. We're forced to park in the garage which is a sin in our family.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Planetarium itself, I must admit was a success. Until snag #2: The Gift Shop. You haven't lived until you've take four kids to a gift shop. "Mom, I have my own money at home, can I get something? Mom, how much is this? Mom, what's this? Mom, how much do I have left?" After the usual 76 minutes or so, they finally pick what they want. We present our wares to the cashier, make last minute changes while holding up the line, and the total comes to $60.00. Holy cow! $60.00? I know my kids don't have $60.00 cash laying around at home. I guess rounding up and not counting tax ends up being a $25.00 discrepancy. But who wants to sit and add in the middle of that chaos?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;On to lunch, or by this time dinner. Linner or dunch? Hubby only has about 30 minutes to get to work. So we go looking for somewhere quick, like a Subway. But no. There are only sit down restaurants around, we only know drive-throughs in our family. We figure if they cook fast, we eat fast, then drive fast he can make it to work in time. The food comes quick enough, we're feeling good.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;And then Snag 3: Raw chicken. Hubby had ordered a chicken sandwich, and not until the last 2 bites does he notice that the chicken is completely raw. Not just pink in the middle, but raw. It was almost as if they had fried each side for 3 seconds and then drew black lines on it to make it look grilled. It was mushy juicy raw. Hubby starts practically dry heaving. "I can't believe I ate that whole thing!" The manager starts apologizing profusely, takes Hubby's meal off our bill, then gives us a card save 10% off our next visit. Am I the only one who finds this humorous? Meanwhile time is ticking, we have to leave.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snag 4: It's pouring rain. Nice. Do we have umbrellas or jackets? No, that would be smart. By now we're completely turned around and have no idea where parking garage we are in, as there are four of them!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snag 5: Wrong garage. I think this one explains itself.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snag 6: Our gift shop junk is left at the restaurant. Just as we start making our way to the right parking garage, Hubby realizes we left our bags of junk behind. Now, I will concede that it IS junk, but it's $60.00 and 76 minutes worth of blood, sweat, and tears, and we are not about to see it wasted. Plus I can just hear the whining... So HubbyIssa goes running back, on the verge of throwing up, in the rain to fetch our junk. He finally gets our junk and catches up with us in the right garage. We're supposedly parked in P1C, but P1C goes on for what seems like miles. I go one way with the kids, Hubby goes the other. And then, like a parking-garage angel from heaven, Hubby comes driving up in our 1996 aqua blue Caravan. I don't think I have ever been so happy to see that ugly thing. I found myself, for a moment, even thankful for it. (That moment has since passed.) We get in, soaking, out of breath, Hubby on the verge of puking and running late.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Snag 7: Parking fee. We pull up to the person-in-a-box. Our parking fee is $3.00. Do we have $3.00? No, that would be smart. I manage to scrape up 97 cents from various places in the car, but that's it. We sheepishly offer our debit card. Nope, only cash or check. I get out my checkbook, find a pen that doesn't work, find another pen that does, and start writing my $3.00 check like a maniac. You know how when you're in a huge rush, the faster you have to write, the harder it is, and the more mistakes you make? It felt like my fingers were made of rubber. I felt Hubby's eye on me, all the other people's eyes behind us boring into the back of my head. I practically rip the check in half getting it out. Success! We're free.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We drive frantically to Hubby's work. I'm sure the whole way Hubby's thinking, "I'm never doing this again," while I'm thinking, "I'm totally blogging this when I get home."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;That was our family day gone bad. Next time we'll plan better and get some cash, if there is a next time. Although, I don't think there's much I can do about the orange barrels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-521055129934207776?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/521055129934207776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=521055129934207776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/521055129934207776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/521055129934207776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/09/family-day-gone-bad-i-hate-orange_25.html' title='Family Day Gone Bad (I hate orange barrels)'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvmSoIvIX0I/AAAAAAAAAA4/sim0SQBI5YM/s72-c/images.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-1997533772355967959</id><published>2007-09-20T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T13:06:57.039-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Dog Poop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvKQfwVteAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/WMhjly854rY/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112307402245240834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvKQfwVteAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/WMhjly854rY/s200/036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvKPJQVtd-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/5lbz9cLuRh8/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112305916186556386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvKPJQVtd-I/AAAAAAAAAAU/5lbz9cLuRh8/s200/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK, so I'd never thought I'd be one of those people who brag about their dogs, share pictures of them and say things like, "Oh, wook at dat widdle face" to them, but I guess I'm officially among the somewhat smelly and dog-hair covered ranks of dog owners. But really...Wook at dat wittle face! (Ugh, I think I threw up a little in my mouth.) I can't believe I'm one of them!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you haven't gathered as much, we recently got a dog. She was a stray and a friend that Hubby works with took her in. He loved her but didn't have room for her among his other dogs, so we "tried her out" for a weekend and...well...we still have her a month later. OK, stats: Her name is Ella. She's a year and a half old, black lab mix, but looks mostly like a black lab. Totally sweet, gentle, fun, cuddly, well behaved, everything you want in a dog. Except for a couple of things:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. She poops. Yes, I know. I believe most dogs do that. But hers are huge and we have to pick them up with a little poopy bag and throw them away. I changed diapers for 8 years, sometimes two kids at a time. I don't really like poop anymore. Human, animal or otherwise. (?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. She eats socks. No, she doesn't just chew them, she swallows them. Whole. The entire thing. Sitting in her body. Then she poops them out, or throws them up. Luckily, always outside. But still...nasty! I believe she has two in her right now as we speak. On the upside, the kids have learned to always pick up their socks, so hopefully this problem will not be a problem too much.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The house is actually cleaner than before. My husband and I are both anti-dog hair type of people so we're totally on top of it. The kids are pitching in a lot. They're really helping out with vacuuming and sweeping. They're still in the dog-honeymoon phase. They actually volunteer to clean up after the dog. We'll see how long that lasts. I'll keep you updated. Overall, it's been a wonderful experience. Ella is the perfect dog for our family. Even with the poop.&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/1775047761848777418-1997533772355967959?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/1997533772355967959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=1997533772355967959' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1997533772355967959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1997533772355967959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/09/dog-poop.html' title='Dog Poop'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RvKQfwVteAI/AAAAAAAAAAk/WMhjly854rY/s72-c/036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1775047761848777418.post-1575245191140176896</id><published>2007-09-14T20:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T21:03:38.601-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Intro'/><title type='text'>Welcome to my Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RuteveYq8XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nZ3YEB_MOfs/s1600-h/DSC01941.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110282371885363570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RuteveYq8XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nZ3YEB_MOfs/s320/DSC01941.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;OK, so my name is Susan. I have a husband and four girls. Actually, if you count our dog, it's five. I've never blogged before so this is all new to me. I'm always thinking of funny things that happen to me and how fun it would be to share, but then when I'm put on the spot I can't think of a darned one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;My girls are 12, 10, 8 and 7 as of this moment. These ages tend to change frequently, so when people ask and I scratch my head, wrinkle up my nose and look up at the sky as I'm trying to remember each one I feel like mother of the year. I find as I get older I just can't seem to keep things straight like I used to. I remember when Teenie, my oldest, was born. I could quote every stat, number, pound, age (in months, weeks, even days) of every milestone, inch-stone and minute happening or accomplishment. Even in pregnancy I knew exactly how many days along I was and how many days I had left. I knew the stats of every ultrasound reading, every detail of measurements taken, every tiny worthless detail. I would look at other older moms with more than 2 kids who, when I asked their kids' ages, would scratch their heads, wrinkle up their noses and look up at the sky to try to remember, calculate, whatever...and I wondered how in the world a mother could forget so easily. She just must not love her kids the way I love my one little princess!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Then reality hit once we hit four little princesses. I just don't have room in my head for all that information times four, plus homework, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;play dates&lt;/span&gt;, dentist and doctor appointments, bills, commitments, so much more. It's totally crazy. I'm lucky if I remember to put on my shoes before jumping in the minivan to take the kids to school. My younger kids want to know all their stats. I have to get a book out and read it to them. I promise them from the bottom of my heart that I do love them as much as their sister. That's one thing in my life that I'll always know for sure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;I guess I'll never be mother of the year. Oops gotta go. Forgot I have to be somewhere!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1775047761848777418-1575245191140176896?l=lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/feeds/1575245191140176896/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1775047761848777418&amp;postID=1575245191140176896' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1575245191140176896'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1775047761848777418/posts/default/1575245191140176896'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithfourgirls.blogspot.com/2007/09/welcome-to-my-blog.html' title='Welcome to my Blog'/><author><name>Susan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16946944506541910377</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_mpbfkQDzSdQ/RuteveYq8XI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nZ3YEB_MOfs/s72-c/DSC01941.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
