<?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-2001435480722163038</id><updated>2011-07-07T18:18:39.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rubert House</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Molly</name><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>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3287200809082755827</id><published>2009-10-02T22:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T22:23:39.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"This is the end of my life!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max started complaining that his stomach was hurting right before dinner.  He had no appetite and wanted to go to bed...but he couldn't walk there his pain was so bad.  I carried him into bed where he sat crying for 10 minutes before he fell asleep.  I went to attend to the other kids when I hear Max waking up by screaming in pain.  He was hysterical (not that abnormal for Max), but he was also begging to go to the doctor (VERY abnormal for Max).  I tried to find out where the pain was coming from and when I tried to touch his belly he freaked out.  He pointed to his belly button as to where the pain was originating from, but then when I tried to lightly touch his stomach it was obvious the pain was predominantly on his right side.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is when I start to get a little nervous.  David was at a football game with his mom, my sister is taking 11 thirteen year old girls to a haunted house, my two neighbors are nowhere to be found.  I call my good friend Jenn and she informs me that she is checking out from Target but can be here in 5 minutes.  I get all the kids ready while Max is screaming and crying to hurry and take him to the doctor because "life was ending and he was facing his doom" (literally his words).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jenn comes, and magically takes the kids and reduces my stress 100 fold.  We get into the emergency room and they put in an IV (which was hilarious as he was screaming "where am I, where am I" as the needle is put in (I had to shove my face into the mattress from laughing so hard).  They take a urine sample and then we go back to the ultrasound room.  Max gets a thorough exam of his intestines where the tech points out to me that there is a lot of gas build-up in his abdomen.  Yes, gas.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got back to the exam room Max starts tooting like a machine.  It was extremely impressive.  The doctor came in and the "aura" in the air gave him a clear (murky?) indication of what he was dealing with.  While his white blood count was elevated, he said the fact that Max was smiling and seemed to be in better spirits was a good sign.  We left the hospital with the IV still intact.  He told us to monitor him for the next 12 hours and if he doesn't get worse then we can remove the IV.  (They think his white blood count was up because he got the flu-mist vaccine on Thursday).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all I felt a little silly for taking him in for a gas bubble, but I also felt relieved that I did see the signs, I didn't ignore them....and all signs did point to appendicitis.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Reporting on their review of the frequency of the most common symptoms of actual appendicitis in children, the researchers concluded that beyond fever, the most telltale signs are 'rebound' tenderness or pain that occurs after pressure is removed abruptly from the lower right part of the abdomen; abdominal pain that starts around the belly button and migrates down and to the right; and an elevated white blood cell count (10,000 or more per microliter), which is a marker of infection in the body.&lt;/b&gt;"  (Taken from Medical News Today website).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;I'm so thankful for modern medicine.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;And I'm so thankful that all my boy had was gas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;Phew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:Arial, Helvetica;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&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/2001435480722163038-3287200809082755827?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3287200809082755827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3287200809082755827' title='37 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3287200809082755827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3287200809082755827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-end-of-my-life.html' title='&quot;This is the end of my life!&quot;'/><author><name>Molly</name><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>37</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-564553847095661051</id><published>2009-09-17T15:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T15:19:18.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>He's gotta shop somewhere...</title><content type='html'>So David's mom was here last weekend (my birthday) and she took the kids with her to go get a little present for me.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane was so proud to give me a cute little book on "Mother's" and when I asked her where she got it she said:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You know, the Jesus book store."   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jesus bookstore = Deseret Book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks for the gift Jane (and thanks for the equally wonderful book Lynne!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-564553847095661051?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/564553847095661051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=564553847095661051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/564553847095661051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/564553847095661051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/09/hes-gotta-shop-somewhere.html' title='He&apos;s gotta shop somewhere...'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-7311343810764413616</id><published>2009-09-09T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T09:16:37.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppy Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So Max has a new girlfriend at school.  He came home with her phone number on the 4th or 5th day of school.  (Side Note:  David thought it was pretty awesome that his son was bringing home girl's numbers so early on and gave Max a congratulatory "high five" for doing so.)  Her name is Catherine.  So I asked Max what he'd do when Catherine came over if we called her to play at our house.  He said that she and Catherine like to play with the bouncy balls that the teacher gave them for turning in their homework.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 104px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SqfS69nZNOI/AAAAAAAAAt0/IPH68TUOw94/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379500190331385058" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They are translucent with glitter inside them and Max informed me that "Catherine's ball is purple and she named it Sparkles.  Mine is green and I named it Sparky."  (How cute is that?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 123px; height: 92px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SqfS6tbxamI/AAAAAAAAAts/ymrTzpWkXMM/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379500185987672674" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So Sparkles and Sparky like to play games at recess.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Max told me that they stand under a tree and throw the balls up and try to catch them on the way down.  "We have a name for that too.  Catherine calls it "Raining Gumballs"  and I call it "Wack-a-Leaf."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ahh, the differences between boys and girls.  So cute and so fun to see at this age. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May you never grow up Max.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(and now I'm crying so I'll have to stop typing).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-7311343810764413616?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7311343810764413616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=7311343810764413616' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7311343810764413616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7311343810764413616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/09/puppy-love.html' title='Puppy Love'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SqfS69nZNOI/AAAAAAAAAt0/IPH68TUOw94/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-7676026369951089430</id><published>2009-08-12T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T21:49:11.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Would A Crested Butte Girl Do?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When I was in Crested Butte, CO sitting in my booth watching all the people walk by one thing kept going through my mind. "Where on earth do these ladies get their bodies?"  Seriously!   I told David that I would trade bodies with at least 90% of the women walking by. They look like they are all Yoga Models or something.  True, I didn't see many of them with children (let alone 4), but clearly they live a lifestyle that is completely foreign to me.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 292px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOUyN1WxRI/AAAAAAAAAtM/px49C0Ml8gU/s400/DF_yoga1_325.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369298771183584530" /&gt;So lately I've been asking myself "What Would A Crested Butte Girl Do" when I'm confronted with an issue with my diet/exercise.  First of all, the CB Girl would never consider a day without exercise.  She would get up in the morning, eat her egg white and grapefruit and go on a 20 mile hike.  Okay, maybe not, but that's what I imagine she does.  She certainly makes different choices than I've been making.  I've been trying to do better with exercise.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But where I'm really making some huge changes are in my diet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've never been one to use the grill.  I've been a pansy when it comes to that.  But I've decided that I can face my fears and man-up.  So one of the things that I've been loving is grilled vegetables.  Here are some grilled zucchini and tomatoes with just a hint of olive oil and thrown on the grill.  Along for the ride was a chicken burger from Costco that has portabello mushrooms and red peppers mixed in (Heaven!).&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOUy8vnMGI/AAAAAAAAAtU/pM3JC2dulqQ/s400/IMG_8228.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369298783775961186" /&gt;Another thing that I'm trying to do is to use fresh ingredients more.  I have a basil plant that my father gave me for Mother's Day and recently it exploded with big, beautiful, fragrant leaves.  I've never made a pesto sauce, but decided to try.  I used just a small amount (maybe 1 Tablespoon) on some protein-enriched whole wheat pasta and sprinkled a bit of feta on at the last minute and let me tell you, I was extremely delighted with that.  It was awesome.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOUz5Vu52I/AAAAAAAAAtc/JGEqiIh6GUQ/s400/IMG_8225.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369298800041977698" /&gt;And for tonight's dinner I was feeling extremely adventurous after a whole day of watching a &lt;a href="http://www.bravotv.com/top-chef-masters"&gt;Top Chef Masters&lt;/a&gt; marathon while Blake lay on me with a fever.  I saw these chefs making the most incredibly beautiful meals and I wanted to lick the television set!  I didn't even know what 1/2 of the stuff was they were using, but it all looked amazing. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOU0Y8IipI/AAAAAAAAAtk/5SSZn6MMgZs/s1600-h/IMG_8231.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I got brave.  I decided I'd be a top chef in my own kitchen.  I wanted to have fish for dinner, but instead of doing it with lemon pepper and a bit of lemon juice like I normally do, I crushed some pine nuts, added a sprinkling of crushed red pepper flakes, and used 1 tsp. of mayo to keep it together and put that on top of the fish.  Oh. My. Goodness.  I'm Awesome!  It was soo good.  I wish I had green beans to go along with it instead of the spinach that I made, but oh well.  I guess all chefs have to start somewhere (hee hee).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOU0Y8IipI/AAAAAAAAAtk/5SSZn6MMgZs/s1600-h/IMG_8231.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOU0Y8IipI/AAAAAAAAAtk/5SSZn6MMgZs/s400/IMG_8231.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5369298808524540562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So while I might not be a Crested Butte, Colorado Girl.....I'm at least a bit closer than the "Detroit, Michigan Mama" that I have been.&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/2001435480722163038-7676026369951089430?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7676026369951089430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=7676026369951089430' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7676026369951089430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7676026369951089430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-would-crested-butte-girl-do.html' title='What Would A Crested Butte Girl Do?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SoOUyN1WxRI/AAAAAAAAAtM/px49C0Ml8gU/s72-c/DF_yoga1_325.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6735908228257430464</id><published>2009-07-16T21:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T21:25:27.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Necklace or Exploding Volcano?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Jane took a week long art class a while back with a few friends and brought home a painting that I really liked.  It wasn't until we decided to enter it into the American Fork Steel Days art competition that I realized that I had been looking at it upside down.  I thought it was a sunset of some sort over a mountain....Jane turned it the "right way" and told me it was actually a necklace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh, I see it.  Cool necklace Jane."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"But Mom, I think I want to turn it upside down and make it an exploding volcano."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Turns out the judges liked the idea of an exploding volcano as well.  Jane got 1st place in the primary grades of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grades (even though she's not quite in 1st grade yet, she didn't want to be counted as a Kindergartner because she "graduated" from that already).  She was awarded $6 and received a certificate.  The Blue Ribbon comes home with the artwork on Friday.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sl_74NBxMRI/AAAAAAAAAtA/3-A0c3uCx1Y/s400/IMG_6294.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359279024582504722" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sl_73P-7VgI/AAAAAAAAAsw/9uvTdvMimQI/s400/IMG_6289.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5359279008196023810" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Congratulations Jane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You Rock!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6735908228257430464?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6735908228257430464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6735908228257430464' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6735908228257430464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6735908228257430464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/07/necklace-or-exploding-volcano.html' title='Necklace or Exploding Volcano?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sl_74NBxMRI/AAAAAAAAAtA/3-A0c3uCx1Y/s72-c/IMG_6294.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6831865629976598830</id><published>2009-06-27T13:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-27T14:02:39.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Week at Grandma's</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SkaIDwL1ReI/AAAAAAAAAso/nhg1LTylXbk/s1600-h/IMG_8122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SkaIDwL1ReI/AAAAAAAAAso/nhg1LTylXbk/s400/IMG_8122.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352114805231928802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max and Jane spent a week at Grandma Corbett's this past week.  David drove up with the kids, dropped off Max and Jane and came back with Blake.  You'd kind of expect that after a week of hanging out with your Grandma you'd be ready to come home.  And while the kids were happy to be home, they were already asking when they could go back!  David's mom is fantastic with the kids and they LOVE to spend time with her.  They went swimming everyday and played tons of games (Grandma's speciality).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thanks Grandma for having the kids and loving them so much!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6831865629976598830?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6831865629976598830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6831865629976598830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6831865629976598830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6831865629976598830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/06/week-at-grandmas.html' title='Week at Grandma&apos;s'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SkaIDwL1ReI/AAAAAAAAAso/nhg1LTylXbk/s72-c/IMG_8122.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2442770790366406219</id><published>2009-06-16T11:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T20:49:34.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>AHHHH It's MARIO!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;As the primary driver of the car I'm always on the lookout for things that might interest the kids on the road.  Let's just say that I think I actually scared the kids when I started &lt;i&gt;screaming&lt;/i&gt;....."LOOK, LOOK KIDS, LOOK OUT THE WINDOW!!!!!   ITS MARIO AND LUIGI!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sjfk91NdAvI/AAAAAAAAAsY/VKjNV-Y126w/s400/IMG_8071.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347994833432412914" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sjfk-HBkDfI/AAAAAAAAAsg/YRjsyr3Z2Ms/s400/IMG_8072.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347994838214381042" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes, we actually turned around, stopped the car, and got out for pictures.  I mean really, how often is your child's obsession out dancing in the street?&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/2001435480722163038-2442770790366406219?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2442770790366406219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2442770790366406219' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2442770790366406219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2442770790366406219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/06/ahhhh-its-mario.html' title='AHHHH It&apos;s MARIO!!!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sjfk91NdAvI/AAAAAAAAAsY/VKjNV-Y126w/s72-c/IMG_8071.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6365192471896992745</id><published>2009-06-12T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T15:54:53.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Entrepreneur</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SjLbl-rF0nI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/yg6qygaCHSQ/s1600-h/IMG_8068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SjLbl-rF0nI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/yg6qygaCHSQ/s400/IMG_8068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346577153167577714" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;What is it about kids that makes them want to get out and make money?  Selling lemonade, rocks, paper airplanes, etc.  Max and his best friend wanted to sell otter pops today.  I told them to go out and get orders and find out what color people wanted, then come back and we'd deliver them.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They came up with a price list and after all that hard work only sold one.  A purple one.  3 cents.  But as you can see in the plastic baggy, he got a nickel and got to keep the change...I see a future entrepreneur in the works!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6365192471896992745?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6365192471896992745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6365192471896992745' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6365192471896992745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6365192471896992745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/06/entrepreneur.html' title='Entrepreneur'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SjLbl-rF0nI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/yg6qygaCHSQ/s72-c/IMG_8068.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-9089957700893273521</id><published>2009-06-05T02:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T12:09:38.627-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids are funny.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SijmvNk625I/AAAAAAAAAsI/iqM5P9s_IGk/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 121px; height: 105px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SijmvNk625I/AAAAAAAAAsI/iqM5P9s_IGk/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343774656647846802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went to see the &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;animated&lt;/span&gt; movie &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;UP&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; last night for Jane's birthday.  The movie is incredible on many levels, and extremely entertaining.  But at one point in the movie someone is injured and there is an image of them wiping away a small amount of blood.  Here's what I heard behind me from a child talking to his mom:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Child:  "That's just ketchup right?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom:  "No that blood"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Child:  "I know it's supposed to be blood, but they used ketchup, right?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-9089957700893273521?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/9089957700893273521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=9089957700893273521' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9089957700893273521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9089957700893273521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/06/kids-are-funny.html' title='Kids are funny.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SijmvNk625I/AAAAAAAAAsI/iqM5P9s_IGk/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6499479849871586380</id><published>2009-06-04T13:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T14:08:03.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Someone Turned 6 Today!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Jane is SIX today!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SiguxcvNGMI/AAAAAAAAAro/z81jaSSmUJE/s400/IMG_5990.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343572384937744578" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SigvBx6lFkI/AAAAAAAAAr4/u-K6aYUbwXg/s1600-h/IMG_5980.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got her a castle which took about an hour to set up, but she is having a blast right now playing "girl in the castle" with her friends.  She has a great imagination and it's hilarious to listen to them (especially when they don't know you're listening). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"How about you have the king be your husband for a while and then when you're done with him I'll marry him."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 250px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SigwOpKMyEI/AAAAAAAAAsA/1j-Prro_r5M/s400/IMG_5976.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343573986000029762" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday to the most awesome little princess around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Siguxv_uRLI/AAAAAAAAArw/WFokoPWiVVA/s1600-h/IMG_5986.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Siguxv_uRLI/AAAAAAAAArw/WFokoPWiVVA/s400/IMG_5986.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343572390107301042" /&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/2001435480722163038-6499479849871586380?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6499479849871586380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6499479849871586380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6499479849871586380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6499479849871586380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/06/someone-turned-6-today.html' title='Someone Turned 6 Today!!!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SiguxcvNGMI/AAAAAAAAAro/z81jaSSmUJE/s72-c/IMG_5990.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4356597334795956846</id><published>2009-05-21T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T22:28:03.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Reason to Cheer for Wal-Mart</title><content type='html'>I haven't posted for quite some time.  I've kind of been taken hostage by Facebook (willingly I suppose), but I just read something on "Yahoo" that made me want to pull my hair out and I had to share.  I read this article about Green Day vs. Wal-Mart.  Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Green Day lashes out at Wal-Mart policy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AP, May 21, 2009 12:00 pm PDT&lt;br /&gt;Green Day has the most popular CD in the country, but you won't be able to find it at your local Wal-Mart.&lt;br /&gt;The band says the giant superstore chain refused to stock its latest CD, "21st Century Breakdown," because Wal-Mart wanted the album edited for language and content, and they refused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Wal-Mart's become the biggest retail outlet in the country, but they won't carry our record because they wanted us to censor it," frontman Billie Joe Armstrong said in a recent interview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Wal-Mart sells CDs from acts known for raunchy content, including Eminem's latest, they offer customers the "clean" version of those CDs, which are edited for content that may be objectionable. But in Armstrong's view, "There's nothing dirty about our record."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They want artists to censor their records in order to be carried in there," he said. "We just said no. We've never done it before. You feel like you're in 1953 or something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"21st Century Breakdown" contains curses and some references considered adult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wal-Mart said that it's the company's long-standing policy not to stock any CD with a parental advisory sticker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As with all music, it is up to the artist or label to decide if they want to market different variations of an album to sell, including a version that would remove a PA rating," Wal-Mart spokeswoman Melissa O'Brien said. "The label and artist in this case have decided not to do so, so we unfortunately can not offer the CD."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But bassist Mike Dirnt said: "As the biggest record store in the America, they should probably have an obligation to sell people the correct art."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not being sold at Wal-Mart didn't stop the band — which kicks off a U.S. tour summer tour in Seattle on July 3 — from landing at the top of the album charts this week. "21st Century Breakdown" sold about 215,000 copies since it's debut on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The album is the follow-up to their multiplatinum, Grammy-winning CD "American Idiot," and like that album, deals with weighty topics. While "American Idiot" spoke to the frustration over the presidency of George W. Bush and the Iraq War, this CD speaks to the loss of innocence and confusion in today's society.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Armstrong, Dirnt and drummer Tre Cool are still top-sellers without Wal-Mart, Armstrong said the store's policy is disappointing, considering it has become the dominant seller of CDs with the decline of traditional music stores.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you think about bands that are struggling or smaller than Green Day ... to think that to get your record out in places like that, but they won't carry it because of the content and you have to censor yourself," he said. "I mean, what does that say to a young kid who's trying to speak his mind making a record for the first time? It's like a game that you have to play. You have to refuse to play it."&lt;br /&gt;_________________________End of article_____________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, I'm not a big fan of Wal-Mart.  Yes I shop there because it's convenient, but speaking as someone who lived in Bentonville, Arkansas for a year and had a husband work AT the Wal-Mart headquarters (notice I didn't say he worked FOR them, just at the building) I can tell you that Wal-Mart does not leave a pleasant taste in my mouth for many reasons.  This, however....&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; scenario where they are standing their ground and not putting out a CD with questionable lyrics has me singing Wal-mart's praises.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wal-Mart is opting not to sell a CD, the "best selling CD in the country", thereby loosing revenue because they are standing firm on their moral ground.  I want to applaud, stand up and cheer for them.  Thank you Wal-Mart for making (what I believe to be) the right decision.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Green Day?  ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?  I cannot, CANNOT believe the argument that they are posing by giving this statement "I mean, what does that say to a young kid who's trying to speak his mind making a record for the first time?"  Um....let's see.  Maybe it says:  There are powerful people in this industry who won't sell what they think is CRAP!  Perhaps it also says:  Morals and decency are valued and even if you are not in the majority standing your ground is more important than making a buck.  Maybe it also conveys to that young "artist" making his first record that there are influential guardians that stand at the gates of the population and choose not to let what they deem as smuck through to taint the masses.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly Green Day.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You think that Wal-Mart should &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HAVE&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to sell your CD?  I believe in Freedom Of Speech, but I also believe that Wal-Mart has a wonderfully similar right to refuse their own profits to be made in order to limit what is sold in their OWN store.  Wal-Mart is the one limiting themselves, and rightly so.  So go ahead Green Day, make your music, sing your "art", just don't expect everyone to jump at the chance to sell it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;KUDOS Wal-Mart!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4356597334795956846?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4356597334795956846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4356597334795956846' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4356597334795956846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4356597334795956846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/05/reason-to-cheer-for-wal-mart.html' title='A Reason to Cheer for Wal-Mart'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-2297318429182912796</id><published>2009-03-23T15:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:32:28.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Guitar Hero</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/ScgKA0P-POI/AAAAAAAAArI/7SGyGm2sdFU/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 141px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/ScgKA0P-POI/AAAAAAAAArI/7SGyGm2sdFU/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316510369252785378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max is a guitar hero wiz-kid.  He loves the game and subsequently has told us that he wants to take guitar lessons.  I'm all in favor of it, but just can't get my lazy bum to get him enrolled.  That's kind of beside the point of this post which is yet another funny thing that my kids have said lately:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All the songs on Guitar Hero are "hard rock" songs.  And because of that, some of the lyrics are a bit questionable...unfortunately Max can make out some of what they are saying  (example)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He has been singing:  "Chop the Salad Bar Invasion, Talk Dirty to Me"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Translation:  "Lock the Cellar Door and baby, Talk Dirty to Me"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's been singing it everywhere and it's hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Almost as hilarious as the time he started singing "She's my Cherry Pie" in the grocery store (unfortunately he got all those words correct!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2297318429182912796?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2297318429182912796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2297318429182912796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2297318429182912796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2297318429182912796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/03/guitar-hero.html' title='Guitar Hero'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/ScgKA0P-POI/AAAAAAAAArI/7SGyGm2sdFU/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6688821635426791269</id><published>2009-03-11T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T15:30:49.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Gutters"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sbg7R6coz9I/AAAAAAAAArA/QdVc55dblD8/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 114px; height: 85px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sbg7R6coz9I/AAAAAAAAArA/QdVc55dblD8/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312060939416686546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane is playing Wii Bowling with her dad.  Dad gets a gutter-ball.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dad says:  "Dang, I got a gutterball".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane says:  "I know what Guttters are dad----They're those things that hang down from a cow."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(then what's a gutter-ball?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6688821635426791269?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6688821635426791269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6688821635426791269' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6688821635426791269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6688821635426791269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/03/gutters.html' title='&quot;Gutters&quot;'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/Sbg7R6coz9I/AAAAAAAAArA/QdVc55dblD8/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2754036635953941528</id><published>2009-02-21T14:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T08:53:31.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scars and "Wierdees"</title><content type='html'>So the other day Max got a little too close to me while rough-housing and bumped into me.  Not a big deal, but while recouping from the c-section we just have to be a little careful around mom these days.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David says:  "Max, you have to be careful around mom's....um...."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max fills in:  "Her Wierdee"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Both David and I share an amused glance.  Obviously he was not really thinking of the incision, but got the general idea.  We had never heard this term before and so David says:  "That's a good name for it Max; just like we call yours "Kibbles and bits" and Jane's "HooHa."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now it's your turn.  What are the names you've come up with for the "Parts".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2754036635953941528?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2754036635953941528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2754036635953941528' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2754036635953941528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2754036635953941528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/02/scars-and-weirdees.html' title='Scars and &quot;Wierdees&quot;'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-3776377380229948282</id><published>2009-02-16T10:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T13:36:29.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been....One Week (since you looked at me)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SZmvUlOC6iI/AAAAAAAAAqo/lrmGEkb4P88/s1600-h/IMG_5326.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SZmvUlOC6iI/AAAAAAAAAqo/lrmGEkb4P88/s400/IMG_5326.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303462804328737314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Griffin has arrived.  One week ago at 8:20am he came into the world covered in tons of crisco looking goop!  He is such a sweet little (or not so little) boy.  He was 9 lbs 5 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long. He is eating and sleeping wonderfully (so far).  We're all thrilled that he's safe and sound.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The delivery went fairly routine except for about a minute and a half when my blood pressure dropped very quickly and I felt like I couldn't breathe, but luckily that issue was remedied quickly.  David had given me a blessing the night before and one of the things he said was that I would be "articulate in my ability to tell doctors what was going on with my body."  It was very clear in my mind when I started to feel the sensation that I couldn't breathe on the operating table that I needed to tell the doctors.  It took me a few seconds to focus on what was happening, but then I remembered David's blessing and told the anesthesiologist what I was feeling and he pushed some meds that stopped my blood pressure from dropping.  I'm very grateful for David and the insight he felt as he gave that blessing.  That was a panic that I do not want to feel again anytime soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids are loving Griffin and Jane has become the best helper (not a surprise there).  She wants to hold him at night and does for a while so we can get Blake to sleep....if only we could get her to change diapers we'd be in business.  Our little family is complete!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3776377380229948282?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3776377380229948282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3776377380229948282' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3776377380229948282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3776377380229948282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-beenone-week-since-you-looked-at-me.html' title='It&apos;s been....One Week (since you looked at me)'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SZmvUlOC6iI/AAAAAAAAAqo/lrmGEkb4P88/s72-c/IMG_5326.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1553422573378855129</id><published>2009-02-03T11:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T11:57:07.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poll</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SYig8UlxiRI/AAAAAAAAAqg/SHN8lzYX2Y4/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 135px; height: 80px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SYig8UlxiRI/AAAAAAAAAqg/SHN8lzYX2Y4/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298661919781128466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Out of curiosity....and because it's been on my mind quite a bit lately.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you were sure you didn't want any more kids would you get your tubes tied?  It's so darn permanent, but the thought of getting pregnant again puts FEAR into my soul.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mirena (an IUD) is another option, but since they are doing a c-section in a few days it's pretty easy to tie the tubes right there while they're staring you in the face.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So what do you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1553422573378855129?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1553422573378855129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1553422573378855129' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1553422573378855129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1553422573378855129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/02/poll.html' title='Poll'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SYig8UlxiRI/AAAAAAAAAqg/SHN8lzYX2Y4/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6545903970910596260</id><published>2009-01-28T21:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T21:54:40.716-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He's got my back.</title><content type='html'>Max crawled into our bed this morning and snuggled right in.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I grunted a bit as I "tried" to roll over to say good morning.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max says:  "Mom, I hope you don't get pregnant again after you have this baby."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I could've (and did) kiss him for saying that in front of David (a.k.a. "The Impregnator").&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6545903970910596260?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6545903970910596260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6545903970910596260' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6545903970910596260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6545903970910596260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/01/hes-got-my-back.html' title='He&apos;s got my back.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-2175320740008967858</id><published>2009-01-12T20:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T20:56:24.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SWwemfFVqSI/AAAAAAAAAqE/Lggpo1yuauA/s1600-h/IMG_4523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SWwemfFVqSI/AAAAAAAAAqE/Lggpo1yuauA/s400/IMG_4523.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290637308781242658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night while tucking Jane in (she likes me to lay with her for a while), she says:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane:  "Mom, why do you and dad sleep in the same bed?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me:  "Jane, one day when you're all grown up you'll have a husband that you can snuggle up to and you'll have a bed for just the two of you"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane (starting to cry):  "But nobody is ever going to want to marry me!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me (trying to stiffle the giggles):  "Jane, trust me, you are going to have a whole bunch of boys lined up wanting to marry you.  Then you get to sit back and pick which one you want!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane (crying louder now):  "But I already picked Sam and he doesn't want me!!!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahh, the drama begins.  Watch out Sam (neighbor boy, who would indeed make a rather fine catch) Janie has her eye on you and you'll never know what hit ya if she finally catches you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2175320740008967858?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2175320740008967858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2175320740008967858' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2175320740008967858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2175320740008967858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2009/01/drama.html' title='Drama'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SWwemfFVqSI/AAAAAAAAAqE/Lggpo1yuauA/s72-c/IMG_4523.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-9153505324501004267</id><published>2008-12-19T13:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T13:33:15.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Real vs. Not Real</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Jane was convinced it was the real Santa--"His beard was real Mom!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max thought it was a "Really nice Grandma and Grandpa, but not the real thing."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David thought that Santa was really a cowboy in disguise--"Did you see the belt-buckle on that guy?  You could use it for a satellite dish!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blake didn't really know what to think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm tipping the scales in Jane's favor with my vote--so that's one for a "grandpa," one for a cowboy in disguise, and TWO VOTES FOR THE REAL DEAL!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUwRu6kqWtI/AAAAAAAAAp8/Wi6Awa3d_0c/s1600-h/IMG_4901.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 333px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUwRu6kqWtI/AAAAAAAAAp8/Wi6Awa3d_0c/s400/IMG_4901.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281615960693430994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-9153505324501004267?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/9153505324501004267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=9153505324501004267' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9153505324501004267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9153505324501004267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/12/real-vs-not-real.html' title='Real vs. Not Real'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUwRu6kqWtI/AAAAAAAAAp8/Wi6Awa3d_0c/s72-c/IMG_4901.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-5800264968652309316</id><published>2008-12-17T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T16:35:11.149-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Story Tribute</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUmZ3sJFJYI/AAAAAAAAAp0/zJ3tmAop8yo/s1600-h/IMG_4928.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 400px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUmZ3sJFJYI/AAAAAAAAAp0/zJ3tmAop8yo/s400/IMG_4928.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280921220089718146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUmZ3HIPzoI/AAAAAAAAAps/RTbwvopIixI/s1600-h/Randy+Snowsuit.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 373px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUmZ3HIPzoI/AAAAAAAAAps/RTbwvopIixI/s400/Randy+Snowsuit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280921210154110594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't be surprised if you see the Leg Lamp up in our window.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-5800264968652309316?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/5800264968652309316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=5800264968652309316' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5800264968652309316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5800264968652309316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-story-tribute.html' title='Christmas Story Tribute'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SUmZ3sJFJYI/AAAAAAAAAp0/zJ3tmAop8yo/s72-c/IMG_4928.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-5805953649717715485</id><published>2008-12-12T13:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T13:56:33.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Betcha Didn't Know That!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SULdkS2KKdI/AAAAAAAAApk/9z91J119fPA/s1600-h/IMG_7808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SULdkS2KKdI/AAAAAAAAApk/9z91J119fPA/s400/IMG_7808.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279025328835668434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was looking through a coloring book trying to find a page for Blake to destroy when I came across this "puzzle page" done by Max.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It made me laugh out loud. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-5805953649717715485?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/5805953649717715485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=5805953649717715485' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5805953649717715485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5805953649717715485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/12/betcha-didnt-know-that.html' title='Betcha Didn&apos;t Know That!!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SULdkS2KKdI/AAAAAAAAApk/9z91J119fPA/s72-c/IMG_7808.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-9041804204307330799</id><published>2008-12-08T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T07:02:47.717-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Free Meal!</title><content type='html'>So tonight David had to work late and told me to be a "single mom" for the night.  That being said I was looking through my planner for something and saw all the "free" stuff that my kids had built up from school and decided that tonight would be the night.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;First called Applebees and got Max his free kids meal from being "student of the day" at school--chicken fingers/fries.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Second, off to Del Taco for two free tacos from Max's other time being "student of the day"--Jane requested one of them be without lettuce.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Third we went to Pizza Hut for Jane's free personal pizza for finishing her reading for the month...they said it would take 20 minutes before it was done....sooo......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On to Cold Stone for both the kids to get their small kids size ice cream for reading 5 books a piece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What an evening.  The kids thought it was great that we got free stuff from everywhere, and mom got to use up all those little coupons that have been bugging my brain.  Blake ate little bits of everybody's meal and needless-to-say I'm wondering when the barf-fest will ensue. Nuggets, Pizza, Tacos, and Ice cream?....bluuhhh!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-9041804204307330799?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/9041804204307330799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=9041804204307330799' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9041804204307330799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9041804204307330799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/12/free-meal.html' title='Free Meal!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-2439315639799632469</id><published>2008-11-24T09:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T16:13:56.760-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Noell (and other Masaman fans)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I told my friend Noell that I'd get this recipe to her, and since I've had a few other people ask for it, I'm posting it here.  This is a favorite at our house and at my brothers as well.  The recipe I'm including will easily feed a family of 5-6!  Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The ingredients for Masman (Masaman, Musaman, etc) are fairly simple.  Chicken (can be made without), coconut milk, masman paste, potatoes, cashews, and the secret ingredient (a TBSP or two of sugar).  You can add more vegetables (onions and carrots) depending on what you like. I've found that red potatoes work well because of the extra flavor.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cut up two chicken breasts and cook in a skillet.  Set aside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cut into bite size and boil roughly 10 red potatoes (or 3-4 regular potatoes)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Put two cans of coconut milk into a pot and heat on medium.  Add approx. 1/4 cup masman paste (this is where it gets tricky....if you like it spicy add more.  Each time I make the curry it ends up tasting a little different depending on how much of the paste you put in).  It takes a while for the paste to break up, but make sure that it's all smooth or you'll have one heck of a spicy bite if you get too much paste clumped together!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Put in two TBSP of regular sugar.  This tip was given to my brother by the owner of Thai Village in Orem.  It seems to make all the difference.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Add potatoes, chicken and 1/2 cup of cashews (I like the salted ones from Costco).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let simmer for about 10-15 minutes to let all the flavors mix.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Serve over rice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can find the coconut milk at most grocery stores in the Asian cooking section.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSriF8aN0AI/AAAAAAAAApc/D1N6iyt78eA/s1600-h/IMG_7713.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSriF8aN0AI/AAAAAAAAApc/D1N6iyt78eA/s400/IMG_7713.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272274905533894658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The masman paste might be a little harder to find.  We buy ours at &lt;a href="http://local.yahoo.com/info-19952042-chao-s-trading-company-provo"&gt;Chao's&lt;/a&gt; in Provo, but I know you can find it at other places as well.  Just look for an Asian market in your area and they should carry it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSriFFZCrNI/AAAAAAAAApU/-wenFcdL7zY/s1600-h/IMG_7709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSriFFZCrNI/AAAAAAAAApU/-wenFcdL7zY/s400/IMG_7709.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272274890765020370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Cooking!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2439315639799632469?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2439315639799632469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2439315639799632469' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2439315639799632469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2439315639799632469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/11/for-noell-and-other-masaman-fans.html' title='For Noell (and other Masaman fans)'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSriF8aN0AI/AAAAAAAAApc/D1N6iyt78eA/s72-c/IMG_7713.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1103984623748098778</id><published>2008-11-19T09:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T09:14:14.560-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Magic of the Glue Gun</title><content type='html'>I might have a problem.  I started making a few hairbows for Jane and got a little carried away.  The funny thing is that she really doesn't like them in her hair.  I think they are so stinking cute and I'm trying to get the most out of my one little girl before we have yet another testosteroned filled boy enter the Rubert house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSRImJOWAUI/AAAAAAAAApE/Oi47qVkizpA/s400/IMG_7768.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270417284078633282" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSRImQAVaWI/AAAAAAAAApM/ziwleMaDxO0/s400/IMG_7770.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270417285898922338" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1103984623748098778?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1103984623748098778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1103984623748098778' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1103984623748098778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1103984623748098778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/11/magic-of-glue-gun.html' title='Magic of the Glue Gun'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SSRImJOWAUI/AAAAAAAAApE/Oi47qVkizpA/s72-c/IMG_7768.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6638733382899521510</id><published>2008-11-15T19:30:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T19:35:22.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Christmas Light Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;From the moment Jane woke up this morning she was begging David to let her get on the roof to help put up Christmas lights.  She was a patient little girl waiting most of the day playing with her friends, asking every so often if it was time to get on the roof.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SR-T-3J523I/AAAAAAAAAo0/wL5zjSy_HAA/s400/IMG_4847.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269092797213432690" /&gt;While she didn't exactly "help," she had a great time playing with one of her stuffed animals while David put up the lights.  We got all the lights up today and I'm thrilled that we can check that off our little (or not so little) list of things to do.  Next it will be my job to decorate the inside of the house....but I'm waiting at least until next Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SR-T_bhc3LI/AAAAAAAAAo8/VmyGApxIBnI/s1600-h/IMG_4849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SR-T_bhc3LI/AAAAAAAAAo8/VmyGApxIBnI/s400/IMG_4849.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5269092806975872178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I suppose I could've moved the trash can and bags of leaves, but give me some credit....I took this photo in my robe at 8:30pm and had to get inside fast--it's COLD tonight!&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/2001435480722163038-6638733382899521510?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6638733382899521510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6638733382899521510' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6638733382899521510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6638733382899521510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/11/perfect-christmas-light-day.html' title='Perfect Christmas Light Day'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SR-T-3J523I/AAAAAAAAAo0/wL5zjSy_HAA/s72-c/IMG_4847.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-766398564496728817</id><published>2008-11-12T08:31:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T08:49:04.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We moved the kids into their own bedrooms!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRsFDWcb3iI/AAAAAAAAAoc/uzxglczmvuI/s400/IMG_7743.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267809744262520354" /&gt;It's not as cramped as it looks and it makes our house seem a lot larger :)  Okay, so actually we moved Max and Jane downstairs.  They are both thrilled about it.  They are right next to each other and both LOVE that they have big beds.  It will free up another room so Blake and the new little boy will have their own rooms. Hopefully that will facilitate sleeping through the night faster this time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRsFHMK7p6I/AAAAAAAAAos/4Prflk3-9Ow/s1600-h/IMG_7745.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRsFHMK7p6I/AAAAAAAAAos/4Prflk3-9Ow/s400/IMG_7745.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267809810224228258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They are not decorated or done up yet, but at least you get the picture.  Max is thinking he wants a Pokemon themed room and has already enrolled some of his friends to help him draw Pokemon figures all over the walls (that will not be happening....however we are going to put up posters frames that he can change with his drawings whenever he feels the need).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRsFGJy71oI/AAAAAAAAAok/phllU2NEzek/s1600-h/IMG_7744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRsFGJy71oI/AAAAAAAAAok/phllU2NEzek/s400/IMG_7744.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267809792406836866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane is going back and forth between Hello Kitty and Princesses.  We'll see what she finally ends up with, but for now she's just happy that she kicked mom out of her sewing room and has a desk in her room where she can draw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-766398564496728817?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/766398564496728817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=766398564496728817' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/766398564496728817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/766398564496728817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/11/moving-day.html' title='Moving Day'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRsFDWcb3iI/AAAAAAAAAoc/uzxglczmvuI/s72-c/IMG_7743.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3411260027123750507</id><published>2008-11-07T10:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T10:46:34.116-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All in a days work.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I love the look on his face.  "Don't bother me, I'm working here!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYwF-xzI/AAAAAAAAAoU/kZNs3Eo-LDA/s1600-h/IMG_7700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYwF-xzI/AAAAAAAAAoU/kZNs3Eo-LDA/s400/IMG_7700.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265988221157689138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane put some hairbands on her arm this morning and I told her she looked just like Rainbow Brite.  Of course that is just too old school for her, but once I found some coloring pages of the retro-Rainbow she fell in love instantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYoRyREI/AAAAAAAAAoM/zoy6It-yblk/s1600-h/IMG_7703.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYoRyREI/AAAAAAAAAoM/zoy6It-yblk/s400/IMG_7703.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265988219059717186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max doing what he does best.  Reading (and playing gameboy) although the two don't really go well together, he is working on his multi-tasking abilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYDbOfBI/AAAAAAAAAoE/u7tKAl51CfA/s1600-h/IMG_4541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYDbOfBI/AAAAAAAAAoE/u7tKAl51CfA/s400/IMG_4541.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265988209167203346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3411260027123750507?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3411260027123750507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3411260027123750507' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3411260027123750507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3411260027123750507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-in-days-work.html' title='All in a days work.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SRSMYwF-xzI/AAAAAAAAAoU/kZNs3Eo-LDA/s72-c/IMG_7700.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2278547358759478777</id><published>2008-11-04T06:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T06:29:03.976-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tax write off.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Another fun New York story.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I took a few of my bagettes to New York hoping to pass by some cute boutique shops and drop off a bag or two with my business card inside.  I carried a few with me wherever we went and as it turned out I was able to give 3 bags out to celebrities!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The first bag I gave went to Marcia Cross when we were waiting in the stand-by line to get into Regis and Kelly on Monday morning.  She drove into the little garage and I literally caught her eye and showed her the bag and although she didn't get out of the car, she saw the bag and I tossed it under the garage door as it was coming down.  When the door opened 5 minutes later (after she had gotten out of the car) the driver of the towncar had the bag in the front of the car.  Hopefully she liked it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 100px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQsvuy65hSI/AAAAAAAAAnU/1GiL_4iIrC4/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263353070501856546" /&gt;After we didn't get in for Regis and Kelly we took the subway to South Manhattan for lunch at &lt;a href="http://www.katzdeli.com"&gt;Katz Deli&lt;/a&gt;.  While we were there Mare Winningham came and sat down at the table next to us.  I gave her a bag too.  She was so cute about it.  As I was walking away my mom heard her say "that was so cute of her" and she held it up for her lunch date to see.  She was very kind and sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 88px; height: 111px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQsvvDxFpMI/AAAAAAAAAnc/GgHhYHLKAWs/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263353075024110786" /&gt;So the last bag that I gave was to Lauren Conrad.  And if you are thinking "Who is &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lauren_Conrad"&gt;Lauren Conrad&lt;/a&gt;" then you're with me.  Apparently she is uber-famous and I guess all the paparazzi were waiting outside the Late Show with David Letterman was proof of that.  I actually took this photo as she came out and a few minutes later I gave her a bag.  She said "cute" and then handed it to another girl in her entourage.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQsvvd4XDYI/AAAAAAAAAnk/69o-GcWp_9Y/s1600-h/IMG_7691.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 249px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQsvvd4XDYI/AAAAAAAAAnk/69o-GcWp_9Y/s400/IMG_7691.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263353082033933698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Who knows what will happen with any of the bagettes that I "donated," but I tell you what, if it helps me count my trip as a tax deduction then I'll take it!&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/2001435480722163038-2278547358759478777?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2278547358759478777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2278547358759478777' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2278547358759478777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2278547358759478777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/10/tax-write-off.html' title='Tax write off.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQsvuy65hSI/AAAAAAAAAnU/1GiL_4iIrC4/s72-c/images-1.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4947280174718544749</id><published>2008-11-01T16:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T16:56:08.791-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This little froggy costume has made it through 3 children.  Hopefully it will make it to kid #4.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq-Oo8kWI/AAAAAAAAAn8/0wMRhQOZnrU/s1600-h/IMG_4834.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq-Oo8kWI/AAAAAAAAAn8/0wMRhQOZnrU/s400/IMG_4834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263840419291894114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane decided she wanted to be a witch.  We braided her hair and put ring spiders through the braids, painted her face and she couldn't be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq937HhYI/AAAAAAAAAn0/DlhezkFmE1o/s1600-h/IMG_4831.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq937HhYI/AAAAAAAAAn0/DlhezkFmE1o/s400/IMG_4831.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263840413194093954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max wanted to be a skeleton but we didn't get to the store in time.  He had to settle for the grim reaper which he seemed to enjoy just fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq9p_g4eI/AAAAAAAAAns/h22hgH3Ie3A/s1600-h/IMG_4838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq9p_g4eI/AAAAAAAAAns/h22hgH3Ie3A/s400/IMG_4838.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263840409454436834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our evening ended with Blake puking on the front porch after eating too much candy and Max and Jane falling asleep around 8:30.  It was a great Halloween with an early evening.  Mom actually got to bed at 9:30!  Happy Halloween!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4947280174718544749?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4947280174718544749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4947280174718544749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4947280174718544749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4947280174718544749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQzq-Oo8kWI/AAAAAAAAAn8/0wMRhQOZnrU/s72-c/IMG_4834.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4054059122739230207</id><published>2008-10-29T20:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T20:31:26.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New York, New York!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So last Tuesday I received an email from Delta about last minute flights to New York.  $219 round trip for a non-stop flight.  It's totally insane, but I called my sister and mom and we decided to go.  We left on Saturday and got back this morning.  It was a surreal trip that was awesome!  We saw two Broadway plays (Mary Poppins and Lion King).  I'm still singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious and wish I could've memorized the dance that went with it...it was awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQkkjZ37iAI/AAAAAAAAAm8/6YpaUentjZ0/s400/IMG_7668.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262777830218631170" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We took a walk through Central Park on Sunday on our way to church at the Harlem ward....my poor mom walked the whole way in high heeled shoes and her feet were not very happy with her afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQkkij7lcxI/AAAAAAAAAm0/pg6RpMXH8IU/s400/IMG_7674.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262777815738446610" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have more stories to tell, but they'll have to wait for later posts.&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/2001435480722163038-4054059122739230207?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4054059122739230207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4054059122739230207' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4054059122739230207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4054059122739230207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/10/new-york-new-york.html' title='New York, New York!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQkkjZ37iAI/AAAAAAAAAm8/6YpaUentjZ0/s72-c/IMG_7668.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1980997601805776568</id><published>2008-10-24T12:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T12:14:46.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Blake figured out how to make a big mess without driving mommy crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQIeL6rUL2I/AAAAAAAAAms/k-R2hZM_4SE/s1600-h/100_5565.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQIeL6rUL2I/AAAAAAAAAms/k-R2hZM_4SE/s400/100_5565.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260800504800489314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQIeLuwjP_I/AAAAAAAAAmk/Swamk7YuXKU/s1600-h/100_5552.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQIeLuwjP_I/AAAAAAAAAmk/Swamk7YuXKU/s400/100_5552.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260800501601222642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He certainly did enjoy himself.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1980997601805776568?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1980997601805776568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1980997601805776568' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1980997601805776568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1980997601805776568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/10/autumn.html' title='Autumn'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SQIeL6rUL2I/AAAAAAAAAms/k-R2hZM_4SE/s72-c/100_5565.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1813618198666757179</id><published>2008-10-22T21:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T21:26:20.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 7th Birthday Max</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Today Max turned 7.  Technically he still isn't 7 until 11:59 tonight, as David tried to explain to Max tonight while tucking him in, but we'll let it slide. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SP_6pnEIbII/AAAAAAAAAmc/QUiMqbDvBcw/s1600-h/IMG_4820.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 238px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SP_6pnEIbII/AAAAAAAAAmc/QUiMqbDvBcw/s400/IMG_4820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260198482559921282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max has been such a hilarious little kid in our family.  He is certainly starting to grow up and we are starting see him moving into another stage of life.  I miss the little boy who used to play with my hair when I'd tuck him in at night, but I also love the fact that today when he came home from school he ran inside, pulled out his homework and started working on his math before I said anything.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SP_6o0v4woI/AAAAAAAAAmU/-mYdQJmu-ZE/s1600-h/IMG_4821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SP_6o0v4woI/AAAAAAAAAmU/-mYdQJmu-ZE/s400/IMG_4821.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260198469053235842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He's growing up and there isn't much we can do about it.  &lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday Max.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1813618198666757179?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1813618198666757179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1813618198666757179' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1813618198666757179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1813618198666757179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/10/happy-7th-birthday-max.html' title='Happy 7th Birthday Max'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SP_6pnEIbII/AAAAAAAAAmc/QUiMqbDvBcw/s72-c/IMG_4820.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1067902055077794374</id><published>2008-10-17T19:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-17T19:26:31.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh Salsa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My neighbor went out of town and asked me to bring in her trash can.  When I did I noticed some beautiful tomatoes in her garden that may not make it upon her return.  I called and asked her if she minded if I raided her garden.  Luckily for us, she didn't mind a bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGOznFxTI/AAAAAAAAAl0/C1ONyKqN4Rs/s1600-h/IMG_4813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGOznFxTI/AAAAAAAAAl0/C1ONyKqN4Rs/s400/IMG_4813.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258311260118041906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm not much of a cook, and I have to follow the recipe with exactness if it's going to work out, but somehow Salsa has become one of my specialties.  I don't need a recipe, just looking at the portions of tomatoes, onion, serrano peppers, and cilantro seems to work for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGPTYjtRI/AAAAAAAAAl8/m6QTts3ltUk/s1600-h/IMG_4768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGPTYjtRI/AAAAAAAAAl8/m6QTts3ltUk/s400/IMG_4768.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258311268647023890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, and it works just fine for my kids as well.  I swear each of my kids ate their weight in salsa tonight and that includes Blake who isn't pictured here because we had to put him in the bath after his go-round with the salsa bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGPxURviI/AAAAAAAAAmE/MLVQIbQYFHA/s1600-h/IMG_4770.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGPxURviI/AAAAAAAAAmE/MLVQIbQYFHA/s400/IMG_4770.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5258311276682133026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1067902055077794374?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1067902055077794374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1067902055077794374' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1067902055077794374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1067902055077794374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/10/fresh-salsa.html' title='Fresh Salsa'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPlGOznFxTI/AAAAAAAAAl0/C1ONyKqN4Rs/s72-c/IMG_4813.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8739982909740398430</id><published>2008-10-13T15:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T15:36:32.386-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bibbity Bobbity Boo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We had a great time on our trip to Disney World.  David and I both commented, however, that the 4 parks were so spread out and large that we felt a little overwhelmed trying to see everything.  The last time I was a Disney World I was 10 years old and can still remember little bits of the trip.  I wanted to make sure that my kids had memories to last as well.  Blake was left at home and had a wonderful time with David's mom (I figured being 5 months pregnant AND taking a 19 month old would be enough to make it a little less of a vacation for us all. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKIb1NIHI/AAAAAAAAAlM/nKXbU43Rw1U/s1600-h/IMG_4614.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKIb1NIHI/AAAAAAAAAlM/nKXbU43Rw1U/s400/IMG_4614.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256767436330180722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mom was the one who made it all possible for all 21 of us to go on this trip.  This is a picture of the 9 grandkids that came (two were left home) and my mom with the fairy godmother.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKIt8x2OI/AAAAAAAAAlU/RHbu2fVJsIE/s1600-h/IMG_4641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKIt8x2OI/AAAAAAAAAlU/RHbu2fVJsIE/s400/IMG_4641.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256767441193785570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Time out for popsicles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKI-e07gI/AAAAAAAAAlc/03l9iezOM_U/s1600-h/IMG_4732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKI-e07gI/AAAAAAAAAlc/03l9iezOM_U/s400/IMG_4732.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256767445631561218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For the most part my kids wanted nothing to do with the characters.  When I'd say "Hey look there's ______, do you want to go see them?"  My kids would reply with  "nah".  But for some reason they both wanted their picture taken with Pinocchio.  I thought it was hilarious that he would be their character of choice, but what the hey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKJCAvf4I/AAAAAAAAAlk/CbBVwOR2HBo/s1600-h/IMG_4734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKJCAvf4I/AAAAAAAAAlk/CbBVwOR2HBo/s400/IMG_4734.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256767446579117954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After 3 days at Disney World it was time for the Cruise.  We had such a great time.  My kids told us that if they had to do it again they would do the "boat" and not go to the parks.  I have a feeling that we might be doing it again sometime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKJZu2_5I/AAAAAAAAAls/82cReWUp8xI/s1600-h/IMG_4766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKJZu2_5I/AAAAAAAAAls/82cReWUp8xI/s400/IMG_4766.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256767452946562962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8739982909740398430?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8739982909740398430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8739982909740398430' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8739982909740398430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8739982909740398430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/10/bibbity-bobbity-boo.html' title='Bibbity Bobbity Boo'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SPPKIb1NIHI/AAAAAAAAAlM/nKXbU43Rw1U/s72-c/IMG_4614.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4426528777165521563</id><published>2008-09-30T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T07:41:43.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Necessary Preparations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6Fe0kVII/AAAAAAAAAk0/tYyfNdzm_kE/s1600-h/IMG_4559.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6Fe0kVII/AAAAAAAAAk0/tYyfNdzm_kE/s400/IMG_4559.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823981314724994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6FmAiv-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/0gu5DlUWbf4/s1600-h/IMG_4560.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6FmAiv-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/0gu5DlUWbf4/s400/IMG_4560.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823983244001250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6F4wtHII/AAAAAAAAAlE/Z3O1yYiloHo/s1600-h/IMG_4561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6F4wtHII/AAAAAAAAAlE/Z3O1yYiloHo/s400/IMG_4561.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251823988277845122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We leave tomorrow for our Disney World trip.  One of the absolute necessary items of preparation were pedicures for the girls.  We've all been so excited for the trip that it's going to make it hard to sleep tonight.  You know that commercial where the kids are too excited to sleep because they're going to Disneyland the next day and the parents can't sleep either?&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I actually couldn't even sleep last night because of excitement and my mind racing thinking of last minute preparations (good thing we got the pedicures out of the way--Phew!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4426528777165521563?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4426528777165521563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4426528777165521563' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4426528777165521563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4426528777165521563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/09/necessary-preparations.html' title='Necessary Preparations'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SOI6Fe0kVII/AAAAAAAAAk0/tYyfNdzm_kE/s72-c/IMG_4559.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4075019034162253732</id><published>2008-09-19T20:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T20:37:23.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Late Night Camping.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvu_TU0cI/AAAAAAAAAkc/tqNshAlZ9LQ/s1600-h/IMG_4537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvu_TU0cI/AAAAAAAAAkc/tqNshAlZ9LQ/s400/IMG_4537.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247942318850625986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvvFRTJjI/AAAAAAAAAkk/96akcR4A5ew/s1600-h/IMG_4538.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvvFRTJjI/AAAAAAAAAkk/96akcR4A5ew/s400/IMG_4538.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247942320452740658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvvnC5RLI/AAAAAAAAAks/Voig2_dwq2o/s1600-h/IMG_4539.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvvnC5RLI/AAAAAAAAAks/Voig2_dwq2o/s400/IMG_4539.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247942329519129778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we decided to take the kids on a "family date."  We went to the Nickelcade in Orem, then got Slurpees at 7-11, then on the way home Jane said "Hey dad, you said that we were going to sleep in a tent tonight."  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was sprinkling, it was windy, and it was also  8:45 at night.  I started to tell Jane about how late it was, how dark it was, etc. trying to give David an "out" so he wouldn't have to camp in the front yard.  Apparently I'm married to a true SuperDad because he replied:  "Sure Jane, do you want to sleep in the front yard or back yard?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right now Max, Jane and David are crammed into a two man tent eating popcorn and watching Mulan on a laptop.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My kids do not know how lucky they are to have a dad like David.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4075019034162253732?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4075019034162253732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4075019034162253732' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4075019034162253732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4075019034162253732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/09/late-night-camping.html' title='Late Night Camping.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNRvu_TU0cI/AAAAAAAAAkc/tqNshAlZ9LQ/s72-c/IMG_4537.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6923606755041735319</id><published>2008-09-19T10:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T10:32:09.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On the way to school.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNPhcQoZ9QI/AAAAAAAAAkU/u3Z4ZGKAJXw/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNPhcQoZ9QI/AAAAAAAAAkU/u3Z4ZGKAJXw/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247785866433787138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yet another funny snibbit.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were watching Nemo on the way to school and one (there are many) of our favorite lines is said "Curse You AquaScum!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane repeats it:  "Curse you awesome skunk!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I like Jane's version better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6923606755041735319?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6923606755041735319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6923606755041735319' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6923606755041735319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6923606755041735319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/09/on-way-to-school.html' title='On the way to school.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SNPhcQoZ9QI/AAAAAAAAAkU/u3Z4ZGKAJXw/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-5886848788075811516</id><published>2008-09-14T20:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T07:38:01.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where do they come up with these things?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;(This post was edited this morning by David who told me that it was Jane who said the following, not Max like I remembered it....it goes to show how important it is to write things down at the time they happened and not try to recount it a year later).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SM3XkIggMFI/AAAAAAAAAkM/MYWhXyJZRSs/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SM3XkIggMFI/AAAAAAAAAkM/MYWhXyJZRSs/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246086156715569234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ever see this sign?  Do your kids know what it means?  Last year Max would tell me everytime we drove past it that it was the "no robber" sign.  One fateful day we were driving carpool and Jane says:  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane:  "Mom, why do they put those 'no robber' signs up"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom:  "Because they are telling you that the people in this neighborhood are watching out for each other and they are trying to keep people from stealing."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane:  "yeah, like the Hawaiians."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom (horrified):  "Why would you say that?  Why do you think Hawaiians steal things?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane:  "Well, and the Chinese."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was at least good to know that she was not totally single-minded in her 4 year old racist mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-5886848788075811516?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/5886848788075811516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=5886848788075811516' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5886848788075811516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5886848788075811516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/09/where-do-they-come-up-with-these-things.html' title='Where do they come up with these things?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SM3XkIggMFI/AAAAAAAAAkM/MYWhXyJZRSs/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6093501316656784696</id><published>2008-09-09T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T14:15:02.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Things Kids Say</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SMbmdrdN0bI/AAAAAAAAAkE/1GVEayhMaBU/s1600-h/IMG_3434.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SMbmdrdN0bI/AAAAAAAAAkE/1GVEayhMaBU/s400/IMG_3434.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244132213675381170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night in Family Home Evening we talked about journals.  I am not that great at keeping a journal, but one that I've tried to keep up (and again, not very well) is a little book of funny things that the kids have said while growing up.  Who doesn't like to hear about the funny little, quirky things that they said when they were kids.  Now I can share the joy with the invention of mommy-blogging.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few years ago Max and I were driving past a yard sale and the following conversation took place:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max:  "Mom, stop over there at the yard sale, maybe they have some toys for me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom:  "Max there is nothing there but junk, it's not worth it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max:  "Mom, what's butt-junk?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6093501316656784696?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6093501316656784696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6093501316656784696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6093501316656784696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6093501316656784696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/09/funny-things-kids-say.html' title='Funny Things Kids Say'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SMbmdrdN0bI/AAAAAAAAAkE/1GVEayhMaBU/s72-c/IMG_3434.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6828848459082457637</id><published>2008-08-27T15:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T15:30:29.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What did you do with your kids today?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SLXTxzffq5I/AAAAAAAAAj8/N2xEmI8GzkQ/s1600-h/IMG_4493.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SLXTxzffq5I/AAAAAAAAAj8/N2xEmI8GzkQ/s400/IMG_4493.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239326594104798098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I tried to shove mine into cupboards....darn kids kept crawling out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6828848459082457637?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6828848459082457637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6828848459082457637' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6828848459082457637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6828848459082457637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-did-you-do-with-your-kids-today.html' title='What did you do with your kids today?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SLXTxzffq5I/AAAAAAAAAj8/N2xEmI8GzkQ/s72-c/IMG_4493.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6766632825415860304</id><published>2008-08-24T21:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-24T21:10:21.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I need another good book</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SLIwUWceXKI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CXRJtXd5b4E/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SLIwUWceXKI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CXRJtXd5b4E/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238302442765835426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just finished Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer yesterday and now I don't have a good book to make me want to crawl into bed.  Help me if you can by suggesting a few good books that I could really "sink my teeth into."  What have you read latley that will make me want to read and not just want to fall asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6766632825415860304?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6766632825415860304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6766632825415860304' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6766632825415860304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6766632825415860304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-need-another-good-book.html' title='I need another good book'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SLIwUWceXKI/AAAAAAAAAjk/CXRJtXd5b4E/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3706508629514611421</id><published>2008-08-17T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T21:32:54.369-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Ago</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It was almost one year ago to the day that David, Blake and I went to Beijing, China.  Watching the Olympics has brought back so many of those memories.  It's so much fun to watch the special segments they do on China and to have it be familiar.  We were there for 8 days and truly fell in love with Beijing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5juiKa9I/AAAAAAAAAjM/OpfoetD3YNo/s1600-h/IMG_1202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5juiKa9I/AAAAAAAAAjM/OpfoetD3YNo/s400/IMG_1202.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235708959000259538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the best things about being there with Blake was all the attention he got.  People just ate him up.  We were stopped all over the place while people tickled his toes and tried to get him to smile.  I wonder if having the Olympics there is going to change the way the Chinese look at foreigners coming to their country.  I hope it never becomes commonplace for them to see blond babies.  I'm sure the novelty will eventually wear off, but let's hope it's not soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5kL-bJ7I/AAAAAAAAAjU/IPAG-tK-cXk/s1600-h/IMG_1245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5kL-bJ7I/AAAAAAAAAjU/IPAG-tK-cXk/s400/IMG_1245.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235708966903424946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing that I'm sure Michael Phelps is not eating in his 12,000 calorie diet are the delicacies of the Wangfujing Night Market.  I'm sure they all would pack plenty of protein, but I have a feeling the gag factor might kick in and you'd loose all the calories you were trying to load up on.  We never actually ate any of the funky food (scorpions, seahorses, maggots, etc), but if I had to pick something to eat out of all of them I think I would've opted for the grasshoppers....at least they would've reminded me of the pioneers or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5kSnCeoI/AAAAAAAAAjc/4i2YLaHb_dA/s1600-h/IMG_7291.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5kSnCeoI/AAAAAAAAAjc/4i2YLaHb_dA/s400/IMG_7291.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235708968684386946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Didn't Emma have to eat grasshoppers on a stick at least once?  I'm betting she'd be just fine in China.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3706508629514611421?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3706508629514611421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3706508629514611421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3706508629514611421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3706508629514611421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/08/one-year-ago.html' title='One Year Ago'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKj5juiKa9I/AAAAAAAAAjM/OpfoetD3YNo/s72-c/IMG_1202.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8776911282008308376</id><published>2008-08-12T20:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T20:32:36.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jane's First Soccer Game.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVQuHKglI/AAAAAAAAAiU/0aQOA6JfY0Q/s1600-h/IMG_4355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVQuHKglI/AAAAAAAAAiU/0aQOA6JfY0Q/s400/IMG_4355.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233839462702285394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVQ-JkyTI/AAAAAAAAAic/VzGHUAT1GuM/s1600-h/IMG_4357.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVQ-JkyTI/AAAAAAAAAic/VzGHUAT1GuM/s400/IMG_4357.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233839467007363378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVRKV4foI/AAAAAAAAAik/YxTpt_6ZdsQ/s1600-h/IMG_4363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVRKV4foI/AAAAAAAAAik/YxTpt_6ZdsQ/s400/IMG_4363.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233839470280212098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVTLlrD3I/AAAAAAAAAis/uwqdZf583SY/s1600-h/IMG_4374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVTLlrD3I/AAAAAAAAAis/uwqdZf583SY/s400/IMG_4374.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233839504974614386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane's first soccer game was a great success.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, let me stop being modest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane's first soccer game was AWESOME!  From the time the horn blew signaling the beginning of the game, Jane exploded on the field.  Parents were laughing in awe as she tore past every other player kicking the ball to score two goals in the first 5 minutes.  My neighbor compared her to &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mia_Hamm"&gt;Mia Hamm&lt;/a&gt;.  I literally heard other parents yelling out to their kids to:  "DO WHAT JANE IS DOING,"  and "FOLLOW JANE!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was one of those fun parent moments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(bragging complete)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8776911282008308376?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8776911282008308376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8776911282008308376' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8776911282008308376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8776911282008308376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/08/janes-first-soccer-game.html' title='Jane&apos;s First Soccer Game.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SKJVQuHKglI/AAAAAAAAAiU/0aQOA6JfY0Q/s72-c/IMG_4355.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6317880244981647776</id><published>2008-08-09T07:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T10:19:57.737-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanna See A Ladybug?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SJ2yOu7mYbI/AAAAAAAAAYk/iBPPzEx25HE/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SJ2yOu7mYbI/AAAAAAAAAYk/iBPPzEx25HE/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232534308260307378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another fun thing that happened during our trip to Crested Butte.  We were waiting outside for our turn to eat at the Ginger Cafe and there was a family waiting with us.  They had 3 kids with them (Max, Ruby and Axl).  Axl was 4 and very talkative.  He approached David while we were sitting on a very large rock and asked him:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Do you wanna see a ladybug?"  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David energetically replied while jumping off the rock, "Yeah, show me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Axl looked around the rock trying to find the sneaky bug and then spotted it.  "It's Right There!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David took a look and said, "Wow, you know what that kind of ladybug is called?  An ANT."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To which the cute little boy says with a totally perplexed look on his face, "woooah, that is weird."&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/2001435480722163038-6317880244981647776?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6317880244981647776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6317880244981647776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6317880244981647776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6317880244981647776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/08/wanna-see-ladybug.html' title='Wanna See A Ladybug?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SJ2yOu7mYbI/AAAAAAAAAYk/iBPPzEx25HE/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3286708500747904486</id><published>2008-08-05T20:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T20:57:36.837-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"You know where you get your food stamps?"</title><content type='html'>The following conversation is not made up.  It is, in fact, almost recounted back to you in strict verbatim.  The reason I know this is because David and I spent a full evening after we heard this conversation repeating it....mostly because we wanted to remember it, but also because we couldn't believe it actually took place.  Here is a little background to set the story. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David and I are on our drive back from&lt;a href="http://www.crestedbutteartfestival.com/"&gt; Crested Butte, Colorado&lt;/a&gt;.  Three girls approximately 17-25 sit behind me (facing David) and began a doozie of a conversation.  And now, without further adieu, I give you the booth behind ours at Kentucky Fried Chicken in &lt;a href="http://www.deltacolorado.org/visitor.htm"&gt;Delta, Colorado&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I want to get a tongue piercing, but I can't because if you do you can't talk for a week afterward and my job is all answering phones so I can't."  --nose pierced girl says.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friend replies, "where do you work?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You know where you get your food stamps? (I can only imagine both girls heads nodding , because nothing is said), I work underneath that.  I'm saving up money to go to dental assisting school, which is $3,000 and I have that money, but I also want to get my CDL because I have to have a trade.  If I don't have a trade I'm never going to make it because it's hard with a kid." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(at this point I'm sitting with my jaw unhinged and trying not to laugh--David had to explain to me later that a CDL is a commercial drivers license....you know to be a TRUCK DRIVER, the perfect job when you're a SINGLE PARENT!).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I mean, I give my daughter everything.  The other day I bought her an outfit that cost $21 dollars.  $10 for the shirt, and $11 for the pants.  I mean, I know some people will go to the second hand shop to shop for their kids, but I just can't do that.  I don't know why. I mean, if you all gave me clothes I'd take them, but I just can't shop in a second hand shop because you just never know who has been wearing the clothes.  I'm seriously so selfless when it comes to Lexi.  I'd wear second hand clothes before I'd let her wear them.  I'm $3,000 in debt with collection agencies calling after me but I still always put her first.  It sucks."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(um.....what happened to that $3,000 you had for dental assisting school?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Other friend asks, "where is your daughter now?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"She's with her dad.  I hate leaving her with him but you have to, you know?  And at least it's better than my sister.  You have to be careful around her.  But she's in prison right now for murder although I think when she gets out she's just going to go right back in."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(my eyes are bugging and I literally had my hand over my mouth while David is now looking at me threatening me not to laugh for fear that we are about to get a wicked spork thrust in our hearts if we even dare to snicker.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;David and I didn't linger around too much longer than that.  We walked out a little more quickly than we had walked in, and laughed a lot harder once we got into the safety of our car than we had in a long time.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks skanky girls of Delta.  You have no idea how you helped the next two hours of driving fly by.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3286708500747904486?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3286708500747904486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3286708500747904486' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3286708500747904486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3286708500747904486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/08/you-know-where-you-get-your-food-stamps.html' title='&quot;You know where you get your food stamps?&quot;'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-2267577595156851563</id><published>2008-07-24T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T11:04:28.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You should see the other guy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIjA59bNMvI/AAAAAAAAAYc/VL6BScbhpDo/s1600-h/IMG_7556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIjA59bNMvI/AAAAAAAAAYc/VL6BScbhpDo/s400/IMG_7556.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226639469537211122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Max received a black eye thanks to a wicked game of frisbee with his Uncle Steve.  While Max wasn't excited about it at the moment, it quickly turned into a daily "how purple is it today?" contest as soon as he would wake up.  &lt;div&gt;On Sunday I told Max that when his Sunday school teacher asked what happened he needed to reply with, "You should see the other guy."  To which Max replied, "Mom, I'm not going to lie, I'm going to tell the truth, my Uncle hit me with a frisbee."  I felt a little sheepish until later on in the day when David (who was out of town) called.  I heard this half of the conversation from Max while on the phone with his dad:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max says:  "Dad my eye is even more purple today"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pause&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max says:  "Mom told me to say the same thing!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;pause&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max says:  "But Dad, I'm not going to LIE!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They say it's important to make sure that both parents are on the same side while teaching children......however, I think David and I are both on the wrong side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2267577595156851563?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2267577595156851563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2267577595156851563' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2267577595156851563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2267577595156851563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/you-should-see-other-guy.html' title='You should see the other guy.'/><author><name>Molly</name><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://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIjA59bNMvI/AAAAAAAAAYc/VL6BScbhpDo/s72-c/IMG_7556.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2968291278621689935</id><published>2008-07-21T17:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T17:31:50.181-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Steps</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This photo kind of says it all about Max and Jane.  One of our kids is a little bit more adventurous than their sibling.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl2yiHE4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/E56aHXybySE/s1600-h/IMG_4166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl2yiHE4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/E56aHXybySE/s400/IMG_4166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225624565841335170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Every year we have gone to the &lt;a href="http://www.afsteeldays.com"&gt;American Fork Steel Days&lt;/a&gt; we try to get the kids to go on the kiddie roller coaster.  I was SHOCKED that Max agreed to go on the ride this year.  He actually survived and while he didn't want to go on it again, he told me it was fun (somehow the look on his face kind of contradicts that sentiment, but they were his words).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl3Ce5NiI/AAAAAAAAAYM/1J7l8kLOesI/s1600-h/IMG_4171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl3Ce5NiI/AAAAAAAAAYM/1J7l8kLOesI/s400/IMG_4171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225624570122810914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;And just to give you a little comparison shot.  This is Max when he was 3 and went on the ride for the very first time.  I still can't stop myself from laughing out loud when I see this photo.  I know, I'm a mean mom (but admit it, you chuckled too).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl3jjaZnI/AAAAAAAAAYU/S3roq2zqrPY/s1600-h/IMG_2936.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl3jjaZnI/AAAAAAAAAYU/S3roq2zqrPY/s400/IMG_2936.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225624579000133234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2968291278621689935?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2968291278621689935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2968291278621689935' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2968291278621689935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2968291278621689935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/baby-steps.html' title='Baby Steps'/><author><name>Molly</name><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://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SIUl2yiHE4I/AAAAAAAAAYE/E56aHXybySE/s72-c/IMG_4166.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-7670132128153633080</id><published>2008-07-17T07:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T07:24:54.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Captain Flamingo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Yesterday while cleaning up Jane's room we had a little fun with Blake and some dress ups. Max decided that we should give Blake the nick-name of "Captain Flamingo."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SH9R8Nz031I/AAAAAAAAAXs/vAXqhATQ-7I/s1600-h/IMG_4141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SH9R8Nz031I/AAAAAAAAAXs/vAXqhATQ-7I/s400/IMG_4141.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223984187714101074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He had so much fun dressed up that he stayed that way for at least an hour.  &lt;div&gt;Below is one of Blake's "tricks."  When you ask him a question that begins with a very loud and drawn out "WHOOOOO" he raises his hand to reply--"me!"&lt;div&gt;In this question David asked Blake "WHOOO loves being Captain Flamingo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SH9R80udJ5I/AAAAAAAAAX0/Ur66J80IjIw/s1600-h/IMG_4143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SH9R80udJ5I/AAAAAAAAAX0/Ur66J80IjIw/s400/IMG_4143.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223984198160557970" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-7670132128153633080?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7670132128153633080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=7670132128153633080' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7670132128153633080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7670132128153633080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/captain-flamingo.html' title='Captain Flamingo'/><author><name>Molly</name><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://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SH9R8Nz031I/AAAAAAAAAXs/vAXqhATQ-7I/s72-c/IMG_4141.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-47485790142471746</id><published>2008-07-12T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T16:06:16.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tour de Donut</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The &lt;a href="http://utahtourdedonut.com/default.aspx"&gt;Tour de Donut&lt;/a&gt; was today.  I'd been contemplating doing this race for a while, but then found out I was pregnant and kind of wondered how I'd be feeling 9 weeks into growing the little spud.  Turns out I felt great and had a wonderful time.  I wasn't in the race to win (I ever so graciously left that spot for my friend &lt;a href="http://ironmoores.blogspot.com/"&gt;Jen Moore&lt;/a&gt;--I'm sure she'll write about the race in her blog), but I wanted to do something to feel proud of myself and my recent weight loss accomplishments before I start seeing the scale creep up again due to baby #4.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0acoZx9I/AAAAAAAAAW8/YRlRFMAf-kY/s1600-h/IMG_4035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0acoZx9I/AAAAAAAAAW8/YRlRFMAf-kY/s400/IMG_4035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222262871879698386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The premise of the race is to do three 7 mile laps stopping twice to eat as many donuts as you want.  For each donut you eat you get 3 minutes erased from your total race time.  The option was given not to eat a single donut, and that was the route I took.  I actually thought about it during lap #2...."do I want to eat a donut?  does it even sound good?  nope, it doesn't."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0a4P8gYI/AAAAAAAAAXE/6SceaE_SMdM/s1600-h/IMG_4051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0a4P8gYI/AAAAAAAAAXE/6SceaE_SMdM/s400/IMG_4051.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222262879293309314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;David came to take photos of the event and the kids enjoyed it as well.  They were cheering me on and it was fun to see them each time I lapped around. As you can tell it wasn't a very serious race for me as I stopped to actually talk to my kids and fix the song selection on my ipod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0bYDewXI/AAAAAAAAAXM/C4sTke5gfmE/s1600-h/IMG_4037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0bYDewXI/AAAAAAAAAXM/C4sTke5gfmE/s400/IMG_4037.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222262887830962546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Above is my favorite photo of the day.  I actually look like I might know what I'm doing.  And below is me pedaling into the finish line.  I did 21 miles in 1 hour and 15 minutes.  Not exactly speedy, but then again I finished 112 out of 240....so at least I wasn't last, although that kid with training wheels was giving me a ride for my money!  I love how in the photo you can see the bikes from other bikers who are already done and have put their bikes up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0bq5_7aI/AAAAAAAAAXU/2JltcWQm13E/s1600-h/IMG_4103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0bq5_7aI/AAAAAAAAAXU/2JltcWQm13E/s400/IMG_4103.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222262892891467170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a fun day and I'm glad I did it.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0b2gQk9I/AAAAAAAAAXc/DriKeqgHHPY/s1600-h/IMG_4114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0b2gQk9I/AAAAAAAAAXc/DriKeqgHHPY/s400/IMG_4114.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222262896004731858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-47485790142471746?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/47485790142471746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=47485790142471746' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/47485790142471746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/47485790142471746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/tour-de-donut.html' title='Tour de Donut'/><author><name>Molly</name><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://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHk0acoZx9I/AAAAAAAAAW8/YRlRFMAf-kY/s72-c/IMG_4035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-9168978360013901091</id><published>2008-07-08T14:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-08T14:21:00.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rubert Reunion 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This past 4th of July weekend we spent with David's family camping at a beautiful spot up Ogden Canyon.  All my fears were for naught as we had No mosquitoes and had wonderful cloud cover which brought the temperatures down to a reasonable level.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids had a great time playing put-put on the large lawn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPY9G7ABFI/AAAAAAAAAWU/Nn7GcH1NAN4/s1600-h/IMG_3945.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPY9G7ABFI/AAAAAAAAAWU/Nn7GcH1NAN4/s400/IMG_3945.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220754937394234450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was plenty of card playing with Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPY9Va1zgI/AAAAAAAAAWc/DECEIa--9Rk/s1600-h/IMG_3955.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPY9Va1zgI/AAAAAAAAAWc/DECEIa--9Rk/s400/IMG_3955.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220754941285879298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But I think the grand hit of the weekend was the marshmallow war that took place in the lodge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPZATp38WI/AAAAAAAAAWk/LrxPhWqOr-o/s1600-h/IMG_3964.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPZATp38WI/AAAAAAAAAWk/LrxPhWqOr-o/s400/IMG_3964.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220754992351670626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPZBZ5hGcI/AAAAAAAAAWs/zAcUYd4QVCg/s1600-h/IMG_3969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPZBZ5hGcI/AAAAAAAAAWs/zAcUYd4QVCg/s400/IMG_3969.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220755011207764418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPZCmicm3I/AAAAAAAAAW0/vwhBYrwu4Qg/s1600-h/IMG_3980.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPZCmicm3I/AAAAAAAAAW0/vwhBYrwu4Qg/s400/IMG_3980.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220755031780531058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-9168978360013901091?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/9168978360013901091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=9168978360013901091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9168978360013901091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/9168978360013901091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/rubert-reunion-2008.html' title='Rubert Reunion 2008'/><author><name>Molly</name><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://bp1.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SHPY9G7ABFI/AAAAAAAAAWU/Nn7GcH1NAN4/s72-c/IMG_3945.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1900012265446831539</id><published>2008-07-03T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-03T08:34:47.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Air Balloons</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We have started a fun tradition in our family of going to Provo to watch the Hot Air Balloons during the Freedom Festival.  It's crazy waking the kids up at 5:30 in the morning, and they are always cranky until we get to Bulldog Field where the fun starts.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blake thoroughly enjoyed the balloons.  He was mesmorized for a good hour watching the balloons fill up and take off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwGqQEqgI/AAAAAAAAAVs/LugEsqapppU/s1600-h/IMG_3896.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwGqQEqgI/AAAAAAAAAVs/LugEsqapppU/s400/IMG_3896.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218810065427147266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwHLft7nI/AAAAAAAAAV0/qffpROWxvnk/s1600-h/IMG_3894.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwHLft7nI/AAAAAAAAAV0/qffpROWxvnk/s400/IMG_3894.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218810074351136370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Once Max and Jane woke up and the sun came out, they got a little goofy.  They have loved these mornings!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwHVRL0GI/AAAAAAAAAV8/_8wLIATqSFY/s1600-h/IMG_3910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwHVRL0GI/AAAAAAAAAV8/_8wLIATqSFY/s400/IMG_3910.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218810076974534754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Waiting for the balloons to come back for the target game (the balloons try to throw out a bean bag from their baskets to hit a target in the middle of the field).  This year only one balloon made it back because of the air currents, but it was the Bank of American Fork balloon so our kids were excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwH-3u4II/AAAAAAAAAWE/RvJOl3x7RD4/s1600-h/IMG_3943.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwH-3u4II/AAAAAAAAAWE/RvJOl3x7RD4/s400/IMG_3943.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218810088142069890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The whole family getting into the action.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwIBBEvpI/AAAAAAAAAWM/-BcIgdPt16E/s1600-h/IMG_3891.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwIBBEvpI/AAAAAAAAAWM/-BcIgdPt16E/s400/IMG_3891.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218810088718122642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first year we went (2006)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzvQAHJK_I/AAAAAAAAAVM/GrUh7y1bRZs/s1600-h/IMG_5255.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzvQAHJK_I/AAAAAAAAAVM/GrUh7y1bRZs/s400/IMG_5255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218809126402468850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The second year (2007)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzvQuY7jOI/AAAAAAAAAVU/VCy1eRxYIO4/s1600-h/IMG_6877.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzvQuY7jOI/AAAAAAAAAVU/VCy1eRxYIO4/s400/IMG_6877.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218809138825104610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This year (2008)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzvQ97lQPI/AAAAAAAAAVc/pyOiWBtyU4M/s1600-h/IMG_3882.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzvQ97lQPI/AAAAAAAAAVc/pyOiWBtyU4M/s400/IMG_3882.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218809142996975858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1900012265446831539?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1900012265446831539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1900012265446831539' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1900012265446831539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1900012265446831539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/07/hot-air-balloons.html' title='Hot Air Balloons'/><author><name>Molly</name><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://bp0.blogger.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGzwGqQEqgI/AAAAAAAAAVs/LugEsqapppU/s72-c/IMG_3896.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2369859476891000569</id><published>2008-06-30T11:32:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T19:35:55.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wall-E</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGkm1rEODYI/AAAAAAAAAVE/djdQvGGi1qc/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGkm1rEODYI/AAAAAAAAAVE/djdQvGGi1qc/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217744346820775298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are going to see Wall-E this afternoon.  I might be a little bit emotional because of the pregnancy and all, but I am SOOOOOOO flipping excited to see this movie.  David and I have been huge fans of Pixar ever since we were dating.  We actually went to see Toy Story 2 in Arizona while visiting his sister over Thanksgiving while dating.  We've seen every Pixar film since then and it's been great to go with our kids as they get older.  We'll be leaving Blake at home for this one (Thanks for baby-sitting Madison), and I'll let you know how it goes after we see the movie!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay.  Movie has been watched.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm feeling the same way about this movie as I have about the past few Pixar movies.  I usually get a little too over-hyped.  I sit in the movie awaiting to have an out of body experience and come away feeling a little let down.  That being said, after I watched &lt;a href="http://www.pixar.com/featurefilms/cars/"&gt;Cars&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.pixar.com/featurefilms/inc/"&gt;Monsters Inc&lt;/a&gt;., and &lt;a href="http://www.pixar.com/featurefilms/nemo/"&gt;Finding Nemo&lt;/a&gt; a few times I fall in love with them.  I'm expecting to feel the same way about Wall-E after owning it and seeing it a few times on Sunday afternoons with the kids.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pixar has another winner.  I'm just still letting the movie simmer in my heart a little longer before I declair that I'm in love yet again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2369859476891000569?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2369859476891000569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2369859476891000569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2369859476891000569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2369859476891000569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/wall-e.html' title='Wall-E'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SGkm1rEODYI/AAAAAAAAAVE/djdQvGGi1qc/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-5210156678963842258</id><published>2008-06-20T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T10:05:51.348-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tom Wopat vs. Joe Penny</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tom Wopat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SFw_b4rVaLI/AAAAAAAAAUk/QD9O9UZd7Eo/s1600-h/images.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SFw_b4rVaLI/AAAAAAAAAUk/QD9O9UZd7Eo/s400/images.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214112216891353266" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Joe Penny&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SFw_chWGdPI/AAAAAAAAAUs/u84YBeMRV1U/s1600-h/images-1.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SFw_chWGdPI/AAAAAAAAAUs/u84YBeMRV1U/s400/images-1.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214112227808146674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A funny thing happened on the way back from a family trip to Cabo San Lucas.  My entire side of the family was waiting in the airport and we all saw who we thought was Luke Duke (from Dukes of Hazard).  David was not so convinced.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We knew it was him....all of us, except for aforementioned David.  We kept telling him, "yes it is David," to which he kept replying:  "No, it isn't.  I don't doubt that it's someone famous, but I just don't think it's Luke Duke."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point I was getting annoyed that David wouldn't be swayed by the other 11 people there.  I mean we were all positive.  I told him that I would prove it to him by going over and asking the man who he was.  David said that was fine, but he knew that I'd be proved wrong.  I was SO sure that I told him I'd bet him having another child that it was Luke Duke.  To which David's reply was "you're on."  At this point I got a little nervous (David's wants a gazillion kids and I'm not so excited about that many diapers in my life).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So off I went.  I approached the man and said:  "Excuse me, but my husband and I have a bet going that you are Luke from Dukes of Hazard".  The man smiled and said, "No, I'm not.  I'm &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0672242/"&gt;Joe Penny&lt;/a&gt;.  The guy you're thinking of is &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0941374/"&gt;Tom Wopat&lt;/a&gt; and he is about 30 pounds heavier and 10 years older than me".  OUCH!  I was wrong and I insulted him!  I wasn't going to go down without a fight however and I told Joe that he just HAD to come and tell my husband that he was Luke Duke so I could save face and win the bet.  I think Joe had mercy on me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He did it.  Joe Penny (from Jake and the Fat Man) came over to David, shook his hand, and said, "I'm Tom Wopat".   My entire family was smirking and thinking they were all so smart because David was proved wrong.  Joe walked away, I mouthed the words "Thank You" to him and that was that.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(sidenote here:  David read this post and reminded me that even after Joe told him that he was Tom Wopat, David STILL did not believe him....he didn't say so to Joe/Tom, but he told me that he just still didn't think it was who he said he was.  Damn that man and his convictions!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My gloating and glory lasted for about a half an hour.  As soon as David was out of earshot I told my entire family what had truly happened.  They couldn't believe it.  Not only did I make the poor man lie but I totally tricked David out of a bet!  And even though my family told me I shouldn't say anything,  I couldn't help it and told David the truth when we got on the plane.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my subtle way of telling you all that I'm pregnant.  I lost the bet.  We will be having #4 in February.  Never let it be said that I wasn't good on my word (or that David doesn't stand by his convictions).  &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/2001435480722163038-5210156678963842258?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/5210156678963842258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=5210156678963842258' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5210156678963842258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5210156678963842258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/tom-wopat-vs-joe-penny.html' title='Tom Wopat vs. Joe Penny'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SFw_b4rVaLI/AAAAAAAAAUk/QD9O9UZd7Eo/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2494882821474260274</id><published>2008-06-10T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-10T20:24:05.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Birds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;For the past two years we have had nests built in our trees.  It is so much fun to watch the nests being built, and then to watch the mother robin sit on her eggs, and then finally to have the birds hatch and hear the excited chirping every time the mother brings a worm.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last year we missed seeing the birds, but this year we made sure to get in the tree with a ladder and handy camera in hand.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We took the pictures just in time too.  Today we saw the mother teaching two of the birds how to fly.  It won't be long before we'll be empty nesters again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SE9EvowZj-I/AAAAAAAAAUc/SKQ9oPekJ7Q/s1600-h/baby+birds.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SE9EvowZj-I/AAAAAAAAAUc/SKQ9oPekJ7Q/s400/baby+birds.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210458879075913698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2494882821474260274?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2494882821474260274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2494882821474260274' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2494882821474260274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2494882821474260274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/baby-birds.html' title='Baby Birds'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SE9EvowZj-I/AAAAAAAAAUc/SKQ9oPekJ7Q/s72-c/baby+birds.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8362982590097374957</id><published>2008-06-08T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T07:39:28.213-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Estonian Birthday Cakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I've made a few cakes for my kids birthdays.  But last year for Jane's birthday I decided to just buy one instead.  Jane wanted a theme cake and I decided to go to Wal-Mart to find a cake for her.  I talked with the lady who decorates the cakes and when she found out that Jane's theme was "Flowers" she lit up.  It turns out that making flowers was her specialty.  I told her she could just put flowers all over and it would be fine.  I had no idea she would turn her cake into such a masterpiece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrMnrJZHI/AAAAAAAAAUE/56RPVh8o7NQ/s1600-h/cake1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrMnrJZHI/AAAAAAAAAUE/56RPVh8o7NQ/s400/cake1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209727102257554546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This year I went back to Wal-Mart.  It turns out the lady who made the cake last year was back from Estonia just in time to make Jane's cake again.  This year Jane wanted butterflies.  I told the lady that she could just use her imagination and that I trusted her with whatever she came up with.  She lit up again and said she had the perfect idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrNfa4f2I/AAAAAAAAAUM/Q97g_OoavIs/s1600-h/cake2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrNfa4f2I/AAAAAAAAAUM/Q97g_OoavIs/s400/cake2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209727117221724002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was amazing.  If you ever want a cake that looks more like art, go to Wal-Mart and ask for the lady from Estonia.  I believe her name is Nikita, she works on Mondays, Fridays and Saturdays from 1pm - 9pm.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrNzZT46I/AAAAAAAAAUU/pi5ybJqPX5M/s1600-h/cake3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrNzZT46I/AAAAAAAAAUU/pi5ybJqPX5M/s400/cake3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209727122583839650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8362982590097374957?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8362982590097374957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8362982590097374957' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8362982590097374957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8362982590097374957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/estonian-birthday-cakes.html' title='Estonian Birthday Cakes'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEyrMnrJZHI/AAAAAAAAAUE/56RPVh8o7NQ/s72-c/cake1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-5222857232363234423</id><published>2008-06-06T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-06T12:06:31.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dooce</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEl4ihADCGI/AAAAAAAAAT8/Vofi2JE2QRM/s1600-h/dooce.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEl4ihADCGI/AAAAAAAAAT8/Vofi2JE2QRM/s400/dooce.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208826978400143458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I got to meet Heather Armstrong last night.  For most of you this is no big deal, you've probably never even heard of her, but for me it was like meeting an old friend that I've been dying to see. I've been reading &lt;a href="http://www.dooce.com/"&gt;Dooce.com&lt;/a&gt; for over two years (and note:  before you hit that link button....she's crass, she swears and is a "reformed" mormon.  If you liked the movie &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Juno_(film)"&gt;Juno&lt;/a&gt;, you'll probably like reading Heather's blog, but don't say I didn't warn you).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heather is the ultimate blogger.  She has had some serious success at blogging and was recently featured on the Today Show as the "goddess of the mommie-bloggers."  She was having a book signing up in SLC and I couldn't resist. I met her mom as well and she was delightful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;div&gt;They were also filming for a pilot show about her life and they filmed some of the people in line.  I was one of them.  I started getting teary while I was talking about why I feel like I could relate to Heather, etc. and felt like a bit of a dork, but there have been days where I've been so tired as a mom, not wanted to be a mom that day or something like that and then I'll read her funny, quirky little entry about how her daughter is throwing a fit over a lost Polly Pocket shoe and suddenly my day is better.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, it doesn't really make sense, but I love her site and I think she is awesome.  Go Dooce!&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/2001435480722163038-5222857232363234423?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/5222857232363234423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=5222857232363234423' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5222857232363234423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/5222857232363234423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/dooce.html' title='Dooce'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEl4ihADCGI/AAAAAAAAAT8/Vofi2JE2QRM/s72-c/dooce.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-410913697773332424</id><published>2008-06-04T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T13:21:00.876-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Jane</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWoHn5D6YI/AAAAAAAAATs/rwjtr_2MeHs/s1600-h/Jane.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWoHn5D6YI/AAAAAAAAATs/rwjtr_2MeHs/s400/Jane.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207753393044711810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWoIH5D6ZI/AAAAAAAAAT0/owRHuj8boRg/s1600-h/Mommy%27sLittleHelper.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWoIH5D6ZI/AAAAAAAAAT0/owRHuj8boRg/s400/Mommy%27sLittleHelper.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207753401634646418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little girl is growing up.  Jane turns 5 today and is actually looking forward to her kindergarten shots this week because she wants to prove how brave she is.  (Max "said" he was brave when he went for his shots too, but ended up under the chair at the doctors office screaming his head off---I know, big surprise, eh?)&lt;div&gt;We'll have to see how Jane does, but needless-to-say I think she has a better chance at pulling it off than Max ever did.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-410913697773332424?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/410913697773332424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=410913697773332424' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/410913697773332424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/410913697773332424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-birthday-jane.html' title='Happy Birthday Jane'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWoHn5D6YI/AAAAAAAAATs/rwjtr_2MeHs/s72-c/Jane.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-48367321393114842</id><published>2008-06-03T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T13:20:18.838-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I don't really like the zoo.  I mean, I like the animals and everything (especially the Giraffes), but there is something about the zoo that drives me nuts.  My kids usually end up hurt, or fighting, and they are constantly hungry.  I'm always searching for snacks for the kids, sunscreen to make sure they aren't burnt, and drinks for the seemingly parched children.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday we went to the zoo with a bunch of friends and while the kids had an absolutely wonderful time, I still ended up driving home feeling completely exhausted.  My kids fell asleep in the car ride on the way home and when we got home they told their dad all about the great day they had at the zoo.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess the zoo is great when you're a kid and you don't have to worry about all the mom stuff. Maybe one of these days I'll go to the zoo by myself and we'll see if I have a different experience (yeah, right....can you imagine that conversation:  "Honey, would you mind watching the kids, I think I'm going to go to the zoo."  To which my husband's reply would certainly be something like:  "Um, Honey, I think you're already there").&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWlvX5D6XI/AAAAAAAAATk/23LORFaZSdI/s1600-h/thezoo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWlvX5D6XI/AAAAAAAAATk/23LORFaZSdI/s400/thezoo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207750777409628530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-48367321393114842?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/48367321393114842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=48367321393114842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/48367321393114842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/48367321393114842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/06/zoo.html' title='The Zoo'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SEWlvX5D6XI/AAAAAAAAATk/23LORFaZSdI/s72-c/thezoo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8929611316431277907</id><published>2008-05-30T01:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T01:55:01.159-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Help!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3HR57nlzI/AAAAAAAAATU/xWb7Mt5EnOE/s1600-h/help.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3HR57nlzI/AAAAAAAAATU/xWb7Mt5EnOE/s400/help.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205535854732744498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jane brought me this "rolie-polie" while I was taking pictures and begged me to take it's picture.  &lt;div&gt;Right as I was about to take the pic it fell to the ground. Jane probably doesn't agree, but I thought that was the best time to take the photo.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8929611316431277907?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8929611316431277907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8929611316431277907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8929611316431277907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8929611316431277907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/help.html' title='Help!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3HR57nlzI/AAAAAAAAATU/xWb7Mt5EnOE/s72-c/help.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-7085640477972892188</id><published>2008-05-29T01:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T01:46:00.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Neighborhood Walk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Another walk through the neighborhood reveals intricate beauty.  Thanks for planting such wonderful flowers neighbors!  All these were taken from the Lynsky's, Allen's and Tam's yards. You'll have to take the walk yourself to see which flower belongs to which yards!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FHp7nltI/AAAAAAAAASk/B_WzOObWWIA/s1600-h/red+daisy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FHp7nltI/AAAAAAAAASk/B_WzOObWWIA/s400/red+daisy.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205533479615829714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FIJ7nluI/AAAAAAAAASs/pNG2enBlIW0/s1600-h/blue+daisy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FIJ7nluI/AAAAAAAAASs/pNG2enBlIW0/s400/blue+daisy.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205533488205764322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FIZ7nlvI/AAAAAAAAAS0/nUpYaFYO1Aw/s1600-h/love+grows.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FIZ7nlvI/AAAAAAAAAS0/nUpYaFYO1Aw/s400/love+grows.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205533492500731634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FIp7nlwI/AAAAAAAAAS8/NnowsKmw_y4/s1600-h/purple+cave.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FIp7nlwI/AAAAAAAAAS8/NnowsKmw_y4/s400/purple+cave.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205533496795698946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FJJ7nlxI/AAAAAAAAATE/ahpYZiNH8Sw/s1600-h/zinnia.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FJJ7nlxI/AAAAAAAAATE/ahpYZiNH8Sw/s400/zinnia.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205533505385633554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-7085640477972892188?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7085640477972892188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=7085640477972892188' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7085640477972892188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7085640477972892188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/neighborhood-walk.html' title='Neighborhood Walk'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD3FHp7nltI/AAAAAAAAASk/B_WzOObWWIA/s72-c/red+daisy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6751389082910014287</id><published>2008-05-28T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T11:22:08.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing Tooth Explanation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Max lost his first tooth about 4 months ago.  It took quite a while for the second tooth to become loose, but we knew it was dangerously close.  When we dropped off Max with grandma we had a sneaky suspicion that we might come back to see Max with another tooth lost.  The funny thing was that when we came back to pick up the kids, Max's tooth was indeed gone, but Max didn't even know it was missing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I asked him where it went, he said he didn't know.  Then grandma explained that they had corn on the cob for lunch.  Max ate his tooth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He drew this picture explaining how he swallowed the tooth, it was now in his stomach.  The tooth fairy understood and rewarded him for a job well done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD2Rpp7nlsI/AAAAAAAAASc/XRsJGf938_g/s1600-h/lost+tooth.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD2Rpp7nlsI/AAAAAAAAASc/XRsJGf938_g/s400/lost+tooth.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205476889126737602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6751389082910014287?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6751389082910014287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6751389082910014287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6751389082910014287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6751389082910014287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/missing-tooth-explanation.html' title='Missing Tooth Explanation'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SD2Rpp7nlsI/AAAAAAAAASc/XRsJGf938_g/s72-c/lost+tooth.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6470322302820935520</id><published>2008-05-27T06:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T06:50:37.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Idaho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDwQg57nlrI/AAAAAAAAASU/4yfC4dnmH-A/s1600-h/Fraying.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDwQg57nlrI/AAAAAAAAASU/4yfC4dnmH-A/s400/Fraying.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205053426826188466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We spent Memorial Day weekend up in Idaho.  We dropped Max and Jane off with David's mom on Friday evening, and then David and I took Blake up to Sun Valley while I did an Art Show for the weekend.  The Art Show turned out to be a bust because of rain and poor turn out, but it was a great weekend regardless (any time you get to spend in Sun Valley is a plus).  We ate at some great restaurants and I even got a bike ride in.  &lt;div&gt;On Sunday we drove back to Gooding where David's mom lives and spent the evening and next day with Grandma.  The kids love spending time with her.  I hope your Memorial Day weekend was a good one as well!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6470322302820935520?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6470322302820935520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6470322302820935520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6470322302820935520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6470322302820935520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/idaho.html' title='Idaho'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDwQg57nlrI/AAAAAAAAASU/4yfC4dnmH-A/s72-c/Fraying.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6736041847534775866</id><published>2008-05-26T07:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T07:37:01.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Classic Max</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYuIZ7nlpI/AAAAAAAAASA/yY_rHEB0s6g/s1600-h/Classic+Max.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYuIZ7nlpI/AAAAAAAAASA/yY_rHEB0s6g/s400/Classic+Max.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203397141407962770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;If you know Max, then you know he loves to laugh.  He is a silly, goofy kid with a ton of energy and we love him.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6736041847534775866?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6736041847534775866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6736041847534775866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6736041847534775866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6736041847534775866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/classic-max.html' title='Classic Max'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYuIZ7nlpI/AAAAAAAAASA/yY_rHEB0s6g/s72-c/Classic+Max.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2579339022424413400</id><published>2008-05-25T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T07:34:01.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tights</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYtdJ7nlnI/AAAAAAAAARw/t9BVgcpUrOo/s1600-h/IMG_3490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYtdJ7nlnI/AAAAAAAAARw/t9BVgcpUrOo/s400/IMG_3490.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203396398378620530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYtdZ7nloI/AAAAAAAAAR4/bnkh9QAySjc/s1600-h/IMG_3478.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYtdZ7nloI/AAAAAAAAAR4/bnkh9QAySjc/s400/IMG_3478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203396402673587842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane and I had a little fun and put Jane's tights on Blake's head.  He walked around all day with them on his head, never taking them off.  Jane switched them up every once and a while, and Blake was happy to oblige.  This kid is a total ham.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2579339022424413400?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2579339022424413400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2579339022424413400' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2579339022424413400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2579339022424413400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/tights.html' title='Tights'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYtdJ7nlnI/AAAAAAAAARw/t9BVgcpUrOo/s72-c/IMG_3490.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-891725505826910333</id><published>2008-05-24T07:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T07:30:01.804-07:00</updated><title type='text'>JCPenny Underwear Models</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Warning:  Semi-Naked Kids ahead!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just in case you were looking for some really cute kids modeling the latest styles in boys underwear.  (Jane really wanted some underwear just like Max....no---she's not a tomboy at all :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscJ7nlkI/AAAAAAAAARY/nlSMpLDnjVM/s1600-h/IMG_7421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscJ7nlkI/AAAAAAAAARY/nlSMpLDnjVM/s400/IMG_7421.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203395281687123522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscZ7nllI/AAAAAAAAARg/icx7Tp_YTdM/s1600-h/IMG_7422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscZ7nllI/AAAAAAAAARg/icx7Tp_YTdM/s400/IMG_7422.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203395285982090834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscp7nlmI/AAAAAAAAARo/4BVN_PuBpJ4/s1600-h/IMG_7426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscp7nlmI/AAAAAAAAARo/4BVN_PuBpJ4/s400/IMG_7426.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203395290277058146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-891725505826910333?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/891725505826910333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=891725505826910333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/891725505826910333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/891725505826910333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/jcpenny-underwear-models.html' title='JCPenny Underwear Models'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYscJ7nlkI/AAAAAAAAARY/nlSMpLDnjVM/s72-c/IMG_7421.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8659883951570055991</id><published>2008-05-23T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-23T07:22:01.098-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Molly's Sweat Shop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYqep7nljI/AAAAAAAAARQ/rYAl7Ck0Dp0/s1600-h/production.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYqep7nljI/AAAAAAAAARQ/rYAl7Ck0Dp0/s400/production.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203393125613540914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I finished up with about a hundred bags this week.  This is what they look like sitting on my counter after I've put in the snaps, but before I've sewn up the bottom of the lining.  There are 6steps to making the bags and this is step #5.  Step #1 is my least favorite (cutting out the fabric), step #2 is just boring busy work (sewing the lining and label to the fabric), step #3 is probably my favorite (when you join the backing to the front fabric and it looks like a bag), #4 is fast (putting the fringe on the top of the bag), #5 is putting in the snaps (that actually ends up hurting my fingers if I do too many bags at time), and #6--sewing up the lining.  &lt;div&gt;There you have it.  My business in 6 easy steps.  I haven't actually counted, but by the ordering of snaps that I've done I can estimate that I've made over 5000 bags so far.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That made my mind/body ache just thinking about it.  I am my own sweat shop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8659883951570055991?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8659883951570055991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8659883951570055991' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8659883951570055991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8659883951570055991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/mollys-sweat-shop.html' title='Molly&apos;s Sweat Shop'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDYqep7nljI/AAAAAAAAARQ/rYAl7Ck0Dp0/s72-c/production.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-64489290073568255</id><published>2008-05-22T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T10:05:01.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Korean Evening</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Tuesday night we were invited up to Elizabeth and Ryan's for dinner (David's niece).  We had a great night watching American Idol, watching the kids climb up and down the fire pole, and especially eating the delicious Korean food made by the visitors.  Elizabeth's family is hosting a couple of Korean girls who are here learning more about the American teaching system.  They made some tasty treats that we all snarffed up faster than I'm sure they were expecting (I especially ate far too many).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRWgpt5KEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/TY6m_N34bwo/s1600-h/IMG_3520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRWgpt5KEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/TY6m_N34bwo/s400/IMG_3520.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202878588473911362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRWhpt5KFI/AAAAAAAAARA/Yt-10sPGTBU/s1600-h/IMG_3521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRWhpt5KFI/AAAAAAAAARA/Yt-10sPGTBU/s400/IMG_3521.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202878605653780562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-64489290073568255?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/64489290073568255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=64489290073568255' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/64489290073568255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/64489290073568255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/korean-evening.html' title='A Korean Evening'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRWgpt5KEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/TY6m_N34bwo/s72-c/IMG_3520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2241228697829047930</id><published>2008-05-21T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T10:04:10.813-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bye-Bye Preschool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Jane had her preschool graduation today.  I think I'm much more sad than she is that her preschool days are over.  She attended a wonderful preschool with fabulous teachers.  We will miss them and the school tremendously.  Luckily Blake will be able to attend in just a few short years...hopefully the teachers don't change!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU9pt5KBI/AAAAAAAAAQg/QP_t3aTsUG0/s1600-h/IMG_3540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU9pt5KBI/AAAAAAAAAQg/QP_t3aTsUG0/s400/IMG_3540.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202876887666862098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane with Teacher Charlotte.  Max had her last year and they both adore her.  She was a great, gentle, funny teacher whom all the children loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU95t5KCI/AAAAAAAAAQo/ZQJikqiVhcs/s1600-h/IMG_3541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU95t5KCI/AAAAAAAAAQo/ZQJikqiVhcs/s400/IMG_3541.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202876891961829410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane with Grandma and Grandpa Kelly (David and Blake in the background).  Judging from this photo I think we have many more graduations to be more concerned about (I'm fearing the high school graduation---this girl is going to live up to every stereotype of a redhead out there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU-Jt5KDI/AAAAAAAAAQw/kuJEYiJb9sw/s1600-h/IMG_3542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU-Jt5KDI/AAAAAAAAAQw/kuJEYiJb9sw/s400/IMG_3542.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202876896256796722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Congratulations Jane.  Look out Kindergarten!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2241228697829047930?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2241228697829047930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2241228697829047930' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2241228697829047930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2241228697829047930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/bye-bye-preschool.html' title='Bye-Bye Preschool'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SDRU9pt5KBI/AAAAAAAAAQg/QP_t3aTsUG0/s72-c/IMG_3540.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8710003110877910927</id><published>2008-05-20T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T07:36:00.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caught</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5E45t5J_I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/e4o7NkH2-Ec/s1600-h/IMG_3471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5E45t5J_I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/e4o7NkH2-Ec/s400/IMG_3471.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201170364016175090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Apparently my son takes after me after all.  I caught him this morning eating breakfast with Watson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8710003110877910927?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8710003110877910927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8710003110877910927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8710003110877910927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8710003110877910927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/caught.html' title='Caught'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5E45t5J_I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/e4o7NkH2-Ec/s72-c/IMG_3471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8478915634507922594</id><published>2008-05-19T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T07:33:00.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Doors</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;A few years ago I bought these letters to put on the doors of the kids room.  Since then we've had another child and I have yet to go and get Blake's name....but here are at least the first two kids doors (with accompanying art work, of course).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5EFJt5J9I/AAAAAAAAAQA/sZwfGSo1cyI/s1600-h/IMG_3473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5EFJt5J9I/AAAAAAAAAQA/sZwfGSo1cyI/s400/IMG_3473.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201169474957944786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5EFZt5J-I/AAAAAAAAAQI/sCf2iw3rVdg/s1600-h/IMG_3472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5EFZt5J-I/AAAAAAAAAQI/sCf2iw3rVdg/s400/IMG_3472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201169479252912098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And if you're wondering--Max made his painting at school of a penguin swimming in the ocean under an iceberg.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8478915634507922594?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8478915634507922594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8478915634507922594' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8478915634507922594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8478915634507922594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/doors.html' title='Doors'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5EFJt5J9I/AAAAAAAAAQA/sZwfGSo1cyI/s72-c/IMG_3473.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8528952996219738405</id><published>2008-05-18T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T11:29:04.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DB5t5J6I/AAAAAAAAAPo/i_GzgDtS4M8/s1600-h/IMG_3466.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DB5t5J6I/AAAAAAAAAPo/i_GzgDtS4M8/s400/IMG_3466.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201168319611742114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DCJt5J7I/AAAAAAAAAPw/l6QPS7Dz1lU/s1600-h/IMG_3465.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DCJt5J7I/AAAAAAAAAPw/l6QPS7Dz1lU/s400/IMG_3465.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201168323906709426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So yesterday I told you how bright my child was to have bypassed the dog food for the dog treats.  Well, today he discovered crayons.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to admit that he looks like he is enjoying the "true blue" crayon very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DCpt5J8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/hdeU173CG-U/s1600-h/IMG_3467.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DCpt5J8I/AAAAAAAAAP4/hdeU173CG-U/s400/IMG_3467.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201168332496644034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a good thing they make things like crayons and playdough non-toxic....because I have a feeling that we are going to go through a bunch of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8528952996219738405?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8528952996219738405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8528952996219738405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8528952996219738405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8528952996219738405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/lunch.html' title='Lunch'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC5DB5t5J6I/AAAAAAAAAPo/i_GzgDtS4M8/s72-c/IMG_3466.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1747512493083156928</id><published>2008-05-17T12:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T12:44:27.531-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bike with Freddie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC8yZJt5KAI/AAAAAAAAAQY/oQhefiyKcms/s1600-h/freddie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC8yZJt5KAI/AAAAAAAAAQY/oQhefiyKcms/s400/freddie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201431502322739202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So I got back from my bike ride today and was telling David about how awesome it is to ride your bike listening to Queen.  He said I should let you all know about it.  &lt;div&gt;I've tried to bike listening to BareNaked Ladies, and it just doesn't do it for me.  That music is better for the elliptical, and the Beatles are great for jogging, but nothing beats Queen for a bike ride.  Imagine with me for a moment....you're on a flat road, able to go pretty fast and "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKHnEzAK1Fs"&gt;A Kind of Magic&lt;/a&gt;" comes on....it's truly is magical.  Then, you come to a hill....a hard hill....a hill that you are thinking you are going to have to stop and rest kind of a hill....and "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sogKUx_q7ig"&gt;We Are The Champions&lt;/a&gt;" comes on and you plug on through because, let's face it--You are a champion.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the ultimate song that makes it all just so amazing:  "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-D99n9f3vU4"&gt;Fat Bottom Girls&lt;/a&gt;."  If you've never heard it, trust me---you'll be smiling, pedaling and just loving life while listening to that song.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Go out and have a ride and take Freddie Mercury along.  He's a great travel companion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1747512493083156928?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1747512493083156928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1747512493083156928' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1747512493083156928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1747512493083156928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/bike-with-freddie.html' title='Bike with Freddie'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC8yZJt5KAI/AAAAAAAAAQY/oQhefiyKcms/s72-c/freddie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6926810723251403731</id><published>2008-05-17T02:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T02:21:00.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dog Treat?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC37WJt5J5I/AAAAAAAAAPg/cI9qRpsmr3Q/s1600-h/IMG_2613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC37WJt5J5I/AAAAAAAAAPg/cI9qRpsmr3Q/s400/IMG_2613.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201089502666893202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, I admit it.  I used to eat dog food---when I was 3.  I would sneak out behind the house and eat the little kibbles.  Blake however, has a better formed palate and has gone straight for the doggie treats.  What can I say, he's an advanced kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6926810723251403731?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6926810723251403731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6926810723251403731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6926810723251403731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6926810723251403731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/dog-treat.html' title='Dog Treat?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC37WJt5J5I/AAAAAAAAAPg/cI9qRpsmr3Q/s72-c/IMG_2613.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3936503600162244289</id><published>2008-05-16T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T08:41:40.404-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma's Wash Basin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC2qfZt5J4I/AAAAAAAAAPY/MZ2B7PcxruA/s1600-h/IMG_3468.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC2qfZt5J4I/AAAAAAAAAPY/MZ2B7PcxruA/s400/IMG_3468.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201000601138833282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday I planted some flowers in my grandma's washbasin.  My grandma passed away about a year ago and David and I asked to have the washbasins.  These were still being used up until the time my grandma went to live with my parents because of poor health.  They are on our backyard balcony and we'll be able to see the flowers from the inside window.  &lt;div&gt;I planted many flowers, but the best will be the Hummingbird flowers that will attract the little birdies for my kids to enjoy.  Jane will flip the first time she sees them (and I'm looking forward to seeing them myself.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3936503600162244289?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3936503600162244289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3936503600162244289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3936503600162244289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3936503600162244289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/grandmas-wash-basin.html' title='Grandma&apos;s Wash Basin'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SC2qfZt5J4I/AAAAAAAAAPY/MZ2B7PcxruA/s72-c/IMG_3468.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6617776290700126734</id><published>2008-05-15T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T07:57:01.359-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sun Valley, Idaho</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCumuZt5J3I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/W-bTBc7QEVA/s1600-h/sunvalley.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCumuZt5J3I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/W-bTBc7QEVA/s400/sunvalley.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200433510836938610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sun Valley is one of my favorite places.  Luckily it's one of David's as well.  I'll be heading up there for a show to sell my handbags over Memorial Day weekend.  I booked my reservations online today at an Inn that also has a jacuzzi.  I'm really looking forward to getting up there.  It's incredibly relaxing and quaint in that area.  &lt;div&gt;Both David and I have said that it would be a great place to retire to one day....but not exactly a place we'd like to raise our children.  There is no better place to raise our kids than in the neighborhood we are in.  Thanks everybody for making it that way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6617776290700126734?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6617776290700126734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6617776290700126734' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6617776290700126734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6617776290700126734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/sun-valley-idaho.html' title='Sun Valley, Idaho'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCumuZt5J3I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/W-bTBc7QEVA/s72-c/sunvalley.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8129097102829754684</id><published>2008-05-14T06:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T06:21:04.697-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Condo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCrmvpt5J2I/AAAAAAAAAPI/p9LdzWw6RUc/s1600-h/condo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCrmvpt5J2I/AAAAAAAAAPI/p9LdzWw6RUc/s400/condo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200222426079242082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Usually when our family gets together we head up to the condo.  My parents live right at the mouth of Rock Canyon in Provo and it's an awesome place to come and hang out. We were there Sunday (for Mother's Day and my Mom's Birthday), but it's typically a place for Sunday dinners and getting together with Grandma and Grandpa. &lt;div&gt;This picture is taken from the balcony and you can see Stephen Covey's home in the background.  This is my Sister-in-law Jamie, my Brother Matt and my brother Mike.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/2001435480722163038-8129097102829754684?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8129097102829754684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8129097102829754684' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8129097102829754684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8129097102829754684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/condo.html' title='The Condo'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCrmvpt5J2I/AAAAAAAAAPI/p9LdzWw6RUc/s72-c/condo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3364314367769004047</id><published>2008-05-13T04:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T07:18:36.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shoe Fetish</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCjylpt5J0I/AAAAAAAAAO4/v-o6-miCzZs/s1600-h/skeletons.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCjylpt5J0I/AAAAAAAAAO4/v-o6-miCzZs/s400/skeletons.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199672498466662210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We might have a shoe fetish going on in our family.  These are the Supreme, most Awesome Girl Shoes Ever.  I mean, skulls AND pink bows?  Come on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3364314367769004047?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3364314367769004047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3364314367769004047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3364314367769004047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3364314367769004047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/shoe-fetish.html' title='Shoe Fetish'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCjylpt5J0I/AAAAAAAAAO4/v-o6-miCzZs/s72-c/skeletons.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-755637834707684546</id><published>2008-05-12T06:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T07:03:53.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Brothers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;The photos are a little old, but the sentiment stays the same.  Max and Blake are good buddies and I'm looking forward to them getting a little older and having more fun together.  (I also wish Blake was old enough to go on the Father and Sons camp-out this weekend, but I guess we'll have to wait for that).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT-20oOV-I/AAAAAAAAAOo/gjiuYtZLJgY/s1600-h/brothers1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT-20oOV-I/AAAAAAAAAOo/gjiuYtZLJgY/s400/brothers1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198560087686141922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT-3EoOV_I/AAAAAAAAAOw/uOEw6eDM5bU/s1600-h/brothers.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT-3EoOV_I/AAAAAAAAAOw/uOEw6eDM5bU/s400/brothers.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198560091981109234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-755637834707684546?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/755637834707684546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=755637834707684546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/755637834707684546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/755637834707684546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/brothers.html' title='Brothers'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT-20oOV-I/AAAAAAAAAOo/gjiuYtZLJgY/s72-c/brothers1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1782678501683527738</id><published>2008-05-11T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T20:19:25.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>We just returned from my parents condo where we had a great Mother's Day evening.   It was great to be able to be with my own mom, sisters and sisters-in-law to celebrate the day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was spoiled yesterday with a fantastic bike ride with Jen Moore (we went 26 miles out to Saratoga Springs and had a wonderful time---I'd ride with her anyday), and then had a pedicure and a massage (did I mention I was spoiled?).&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got a babysitter last night and went to Macaroni Grill.  It was  tough not to order the Pasta Milano that I usually get, but instead opted for the grilled salmon and extra vegetables.  I was quite proud of myself.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Max gave me a Mother's Day plate, Jane gave me a jewelry box that she made with the babysitter, Blake gave me a nap today, and David gave me a bike monitor that will tell me how fast I'm going and how far I've gone on my rides.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Mother's Day to everyone!&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/2001435480722163038-1782678501683527738?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1782678501683527738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1782678501683527738' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1782678501683527738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1782678501683527738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-4433413408955723694</id><published>2008-05-10T06:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-10T06:40:01.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jane's Program</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Jane's program was yesterday at her preschool.  It was a mother's day program in which they sang some darling little songs about how much they love their mothers, and then we had lunch. Jane, as always, was a great little performer.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT9QUoOV8I/AAAAAAAAAOY/cmrf4FLSCc0/s1600-h/IMG_3462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT9QUoOV8I/AAAAAAAAAOY/cmrf4FLSCc0/s400/IMG_3462.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198558326749550530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT9QkoOV9I/AAAAAAAAAOg/a86mEVQJzBI/s1600-h/IMG_3464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT9QkoOV9I/AAAAAAAAAOg/a86mEVQJzBI/s400/IMG_3464.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198558331044517842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thank you Jane for your singing, and especially the big hug that came afterwards.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4433413408955723694?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4433413408955723694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4433413408955723694' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4433413408955723694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4433413408955723694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/janes-program.html' title='Jane&apos;s Program'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCT9QUoOV8I/AAAAAAAAAOY/cmrf4FLSCc0/s72-c/IMG_3462.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2452526474607506355</id><published>2008-05-09T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T11:46:09.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Max's Program</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Today was Max's Kindergarten program.  It was great.  I'll let you look at the photos to see if you think he enjoyed himself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSZ_0oOV3I/AAAAAAAAANw/2iufZWGmg8A/s1600-h/IMG_3407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSZ_0oOV3I/AAAAAAAAANw/2iufZWGmg8A/s400/IMG_3407.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198449191630559090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSaA0oOV4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/mK75X4xEvIc/s1600-h/IMG_3412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSaA0oOV4I/AAAAAAAAAN4/mK75X4xEvIc/s400/IMG_3412.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198449208810428290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSaBUoOV5I/AAAAAAAAAOA/aI4lqxHIVYM/s1600-h/IMG_3435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSaBUoOV5I/AAAAAAAAAOA/aI4lqxHIVYM/s400/IMG_3435.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198449217400362898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSaC0oOV6I/AAAAAAAAAOI/A0u-SPPO06Y/s1600-h/IMG_3447.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSaC0oOV6I/AAAAAAAAAOI/A0u-SPPO06Y/s400/IMG_3447.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198449243170166690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think it's safe to say that he loved it.  I was sitting inbetween two of my friends who kept saying, "Boy, he sure isn't shy is he?", and "Max is a great singer."  Max was belting out every song.  My video camera only had 6 minutes of film left, but we got the most important parts.  I love these little programs.  Jane had one today also, but it was a mother's day tribute and I'll put the photos in tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2452526474607506355?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2452526474607506355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2452526474607506355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2452526474607506355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2452526474607506355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/maxs-program.html' title='Max&apos;s Program'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCSZ_0oOV3I/AAAAAAAAANw/2iufZWGmg8A/s72-c/IMG_3407.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8615749264960910804</id><published>2008-05-08T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T06:46:05.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beads</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMD6rvagHI/AAAAAAAAANg/3fzAGtlkpKs/s1600-h/beads2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMD6rvagHI/AAAAAAAAANg/3fzAGtlkpKs/s400/beads2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198002701624574066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMDgrvagGI/AAAAAAAAANY/aQAJjRPWp5w/s1600-h/beads1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMDgrvagGI/AAAAAAAAANY/aQAJjRPWp5w/s400/beads1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198002254947975266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMApbvagFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/v-ZLLf96pzs/s1600-h/beads.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMApbvagFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/v-ZLLf96pzs/s400/beads.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197999106736947282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There is this wonderful market in Beijing, China called the "dirt market".  If you ever get to China you must go to this market.  There was a store there that had THOUSANDS of beads.  The first picture above is just one wall of the shop.  It was so overwhelming to me that I walked into the store, took photos, and left.  I didn't buy any beads.  I think that is my biggest regret about going to China...how could I go into that shop and not buy some beads?  I look at these photos now and am still kicking myself. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My other regret is that I completely flubbed up the day trip we had to see the TerraCotta Warriors by mis-calculating the dates on the train ticket.  It was an overnight train ride and I was basing the date on the arrival, and not the departure.  Stupid mistake which really threw us into an adventure while in Beijing, but it ended well and we got to spend two more days in Beijing which were some of our favorite days there.&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/2001435480722163038-8615749264960910804?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8615749264960910804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8615749264960910804' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8615749264960910804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8615749264960910804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/beads.html' title='Beads'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCMD6rvagHI/AAAAAAAAANg/3fzAGtlkpKs/s72-c/beads2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1513471202563058112</id><published>2008-05-07T01:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T20:39:23.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Grandma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SB900nx1VFI/AAAAAAAAANA/8q14PYaLK1o/s1600-h/g-ma.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SB900nx1VFI/AAAAAAAAANA/8q14PYaLK1o/s400/g-ma.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197000942388859986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mom is still in Rome right now, (correction---she is actually in New York...getting closer) but she's on her way back home to Utah.  We'll be able to celebrate Mother's Day and her birthday this Sunday with a big dinner at the condo.  My parents are finally coming home from that 21 day cruise they went on.  We've missed them a bunch and are very happy to have them all home.  &lt;div&gt;Sorry we didn't get to be with you on your birthday, but we love you and are glad you will be home soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1513471202563058112?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1513471202563058112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1513471202563058112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1513471202563058112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1513471202563058112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-birthday-grandma.html' title='Happy Birthday Grandma'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SB900nx1VFI/AAAAAAAAANA/8q14PYaLK1o/s72-c/g-ma.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1193927713124276473</id><published>2008-05-06T06:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T07:00:17.830-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bird's Bum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCBjwXx1VGI/AAAAAAAAANI/jQauNLsMe_Q/s1600-h/birdbum.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCBjwXx1VGI/AAAAAAAAANI/jQauNLsMe_Q/s400/birdbum.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197263652653454434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You may have to click on the picture to make it larger in order to see what I'm talking about.  &lt;div&gt;The other day Jane was out using the sidewalk chalk with her friends.  She made this adorable bird and when she was done I said, "Look, it's got two feet, it's got a beak, it's got a wing, and a tail."  Jane said, "That's not a tail, it's the bum."  "Do birds have bums," I asked?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah, mom, their poop has to come from somewhere."  My daughter is very smart.  Now every bird she draws has a very large, protruding bum.  They're awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1193927713124276473?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1193927713124276473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1193927713124276473' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1193927713124276473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1193927713124276473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/birds-bum.html' title='Bird&apos;s Bum'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SCBjwXx1VGI/AAAAAAAAANI/jQauNLsMe_Q/s72-c/birdbum.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4115903864121711076</id><published>2008-05-05T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T06:19:44.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Pictured here are 3 of my nieces (left to right) Madison, baby London, and Kamryn.  Last year our entire family stayed at a cabin (thanks Matt) up at Bear Lake.  We ate at this great little pizza place with a giant wood bear out front (anybody else been there?).  My brother mentioned last night that we may be going again....I'm in!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, when we were there last time we ordered the "large" pizza to feed our families of 10 people.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqU8Xx1VBI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8B5cvxk1OjE/s1600-h/Pizza+Anyone%3F.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqU8Xx1VBI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8B5cvxk1OjE/s400/Pizza+Anyone%3F.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195628885021381650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it did the job.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4115903864121711076?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4115903864121711076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4115903864121711076' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4115903864121711076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4115903864121711076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/pizza-anyone.html' title='Pizza anyone?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqU8Xx1VBI/AAAAAAAAAMg/8B5cvxk1OjE/s72-c/Pizza+Anyone%3F.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3080304467690436479</id><published>2008-05-04T05:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T06:30:00.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jane vs. Jayne</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SB0rCHx1VEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/MxNx45fYGx0/s1600-h/janes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SB0rCHx1VEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/MxNx45fYGx0/s400/janes.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196356860503217218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Jane and her cousin Jayne.  They are about a year apart, but love playing together.  There must be something about the name Jane/Jayne, because both of them have spitfire personalities.  &lt;div&gt;When we named our Jane my sister-in-law was sad because she always wanted to name a girl Jane (unbeknownst to me), and my middle name is Jane, so we wanted to pass it on.  Anyway, they had their Jayne and we just said----"don't worry, it's not like we live right next to each other; we aren't even in the same state!" (they were in Arizona at the time).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They live in Draper now.  So now we have 2 Jane's who refer to each other as:  Jane Rubert and Jayne Morgan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-3080304467690436479?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3080304467690436479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3080304467690436479' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3080304467690436479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3080304467690436479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/jane-vs-jayne.html' title='Jane vs. Jayne'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SB0rCHx1VEI/AAAAAAAAAM4/MxNx45fYGx0/s72-c/janes.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-2956804053402232927</id><published>2008-05-03T06:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T20:17:41.679-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Names</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBxwFnx1VDI/AAAAAAAAAMw/76gqYtr1_Fs/s1600-h/CabellaPuff.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBxwFnx1VDI/AAAAAAAAAMw/76gqYtr1_Fs/s400/CabellaPuff.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196151311958365234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jane named her bike yesterday and informed me that her name is "Cabela Puff Rubert".   &lt;div&gt;When David asked her what her bike's name was later, she told him it was "Freddy".  Either way, she's got a great imagination.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-2956804053402232927?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/2956804053402232927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=2956804053402232927' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2956804053402232927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/2956804053402232927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/names.html' title='Names'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBxwFnx1VDI/AAAAAAAAAMw/76gqYtr1_Fs/s72-c/CabellaPuff.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-927325821646379750</id><published>2008-05-02T09:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T21:32:55.824-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom...She's Touching Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Do any of you have a younger sister?  Do you feel this way about your younger sister?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTvXx1U-I/AAAAAAAAAMI/l1AzI2v4TgU/s1600-h/IMG_2484.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTvXx1U-I/AAAAAAAAAMI/l1AzI2v4TgU/s400/IMG_2484.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195627562171454434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jane is a total poser for photographs....Max puts up with it well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTwXx1U_I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/EseGPzUCkNU/s1600-h/IMG_2883.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTwXx1U_I/AAAAAAAAAMQ/EseGPzUCkNU/s400/IMG_2883.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195627579351323634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Makes you want to call your siblings and get together for a laugh, doesn't it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTwnx1VAI/AAAAAAAAAMY/RlCwE6_saDY/s1600-h/IMG_2968.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTwnx1VAI/AAAAAAAAAMY/RlCwE6_saDY/s400/IMG_2968.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195627583646290946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope my kids are as good of friends later on in life as they are right now.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-927325821646379750?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/927325821646379750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=927325821646379750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/927325821646379750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/927325821646379750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/momshes-touching-me.html' title='Mom...She&apos;s Touching Me!'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBqTvXx1U-I/AAAAAAAAAMI/l1AzI2v4TgU/s72-c/IMG_2484.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6081803940195875994</id><published>2008-05-01T07:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T07:15:10.471-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBnP8Xx1U8I/AAAAAAAAAL4/5D0erk2so-o/s1600-h/may1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBnP8Xx1U8I/AAAAAAAAAL4/5D0erk2so-o/s400/may1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195412281230709698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um....to quote Max:  "what the?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6081803940195875994?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6081803940195875994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6081803940195875994' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6081803940195875994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6081803940195875994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/05/may.html' title='May?'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBnP8Xx1U8I/AAAAAAAAAL4/5D0erk2so-o/s72-c/may1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-7510230537705489966</id><published>2008-04-30T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T08:18:43.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cousins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBFWlXx1U1I/AAAAAAAAALE/Jc7WCFGr0Eo/s1600-h/trouble.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBFWlXx1U1I/AAAAAAAAALE/Jc7WCFGr0Eo/s400/trouble.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193027045373072210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our family is so blessed to have cousins so close.  Here we have Addie (my brother's daughter), Easton (my sister's son), and Max.  Addie was actually born about 12 hours after Max in the same hospital just a few doors down from me.  It was fun to be in the hospital the same time and to share stories.  My brother just moved up here from Arizona and already we are loving having them so near.  &lt;div&gt;Max and Easton cannot be separated.  They have a fantastic time together and are constantly wanting to go to each other's house to play.  It's wonderful having them so close.  My sister and I help each other out all the time and I don't know what I would do without her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These three are quite the rascals and I'm sure they are going to love growing up together.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-7510230537705489966?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/7510230537705489966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=7510230537705489966' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7510230537705489966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/7510230537705489966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/cousins.html' title='Cousins'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBFWlXx1U1I/AAAAAAAAALE/Jc7WCFGr0Eo/s72-c/trouble.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4702899651993994889</id><published>2008-04-29T07:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T07:55:31.817-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;David mentioned the other day that the reason he thinks Blake isn't walking yet is because we got rid of the walking toy that we used for Max and Jane (it was a little too tattered and torn to use again).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So yesterday I went out and got Blake a little walking toy.  He loved it.  He walked up and down the sidewalk, showed off for Dad when he got home.....and....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBc2anx1U5I/AAAAAAAAALg/gj3_JVFt968/s1600-h/IMG_3385.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBc2anx1U5I/AAAAAAAAALg/gj3_JVFt968/s400/IMG_3385.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194680526177653650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night he started walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBc2bHx1U6I/AAAAAAAAALo/e2xRc_8JGBc/s1600-h/IMG_3388.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBc2bHx1U6I/AAAAAAAAALo/e2xRc_8JGBc/s1600-h/IMG_3388.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBc2bHx1U6I/AAAAAAAAALo/e2xRc_8JGBc/s400/IMG_3388.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5194680534767588258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a believer in the walking toy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4702899651993994889?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4702899651993994889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4702899651993994889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4702899651993994889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4702899651993994889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/milestone.html' title='Milestone'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBc2anx1U5I/AAAAAAAAALg/gj3_JVFt968/s72-c/IMG_3385.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-3744363633827888443</id><published>2008-04-28T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T10:40:16.130-07:00</updated><title type='text'>As Nature Intended</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;My little nudist Max.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBFOoHx1U0I/AAAAAAAAAK8/0TTihZH7zZY/s1600-h/natureintended.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBFOoHx1U0I/AAAAAAAAAK8/0TTihZH7zZY/s400/natureintended.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193018296524690242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Max playing on the beach in the Bahamas.  My parents were serving a mission there and we went to visit during Christmas break in 2003/2004.  This beach was just wonderful for kids.  Max played with starfish and could go out quite far in the water because it was so shallow.  My dad told us that a while after we left a hurricane came through and completely wiped out the beach.  It now is covered in debris and the trees were ripped up.  I'm glad we got to enjoy it while it was still intact.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/2001435480722163038-3744363633827888443?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/3744363633827888443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=3744363633827888443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3744363633827888443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/3744363633827888443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/as-nature-intended.html' title='As Nature Intended'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SBFOoHx1U0I/AAAAAAAAAK8/0TTihZH7zZY/s72-c/natureintended.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-8721339597465468092</id><published>2008-04-27T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T06:55:31.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Faces</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Never let it be said that this kid didn't have facial expression.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2pHx1UvI/AAAAAAAAAKU/XYknxup8_BQ/s1600-h/IMG_3359.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2pHx1UvI/AAAAAAAAAKU/XYknxup8_BQ/s400/IMG_3359.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192569712960426738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2pnx1UwI/AAAAAAAAAKc/Z6VIS1imcAM/s1600-h/IMG_3351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2pnx1UwI/AAAAAAAAAKc/Z6VIS1imcAM/s400/IMG_3351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192569721550361346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2q3x1UxI/AAAAAAAAAKk/gheflrHWa8w/s1600-h/IMG_3361.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2q3x1UxI/AAAAAAAAAKk/gheflrHWa8w/s400/IMG_3361.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192569743025197842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2rHx1UyI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YZQIKI36XGU/s1600-h/IMG_3362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2rHx1UyI/AAAAAAAAAKs/YZQIKI36XGU/s400/IMG_3362.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192569747320165154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2tXx1UzI/AAAAAAAAAK0/vLZ3XMec8t4/s1600-h/IMG_3360.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2tXx1UzI/AAAAAAAAAK0/vLZ3XMec8t4/s400/IMG_3360.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192569785974870834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blake, you are delightful.  Thanks for coming to our family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-8721339597465468092?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/8721339597465468092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=8721339597465468092' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8721339597465468092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/8721339597465468092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/faces.html' title='Faces'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-2pHx1UvI/AAAAAAAAAKU/XYknxup8_BQ/s72-c/IMG_3359.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4061567306205062071</id><published>2008-04-26T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-26T12:13:05.744-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love Park City</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was awesome.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The show was great, for many reasons:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#1--Shelly was right next to me (my friend who introduced me to the show), and although we didn't get to chat much during the show, both our families went to dinner afterwards which was wonderful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#2--David came up with the kids during the show and I think he was pleasantly surprised at how fun the show was.  The kids had a blast as well.  The elementary school had tons of volunteers that were helping the kids do art projects (the entire evening is a benefit to help raise money for the public school for ART.  They usually raise over $5,000 each year--incredible!)  There are now a few more "pets" in our house (pet rocks--phew!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#3--I saw so many people I recognized from last year.  There were many people who said, "I bought a few of these last year to give as gifts, but I kept them all for myself so I guess I should buy some this year for actual gifts".  It's always great to see people come back again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;#4--A gentleman was looking at my booth for a while, then he walked away a few steps, made a phone call while looking at the booth, then came to talk to me.  He was a Upper Management Type Guy from &lt;a href="http://www.glenwild.com"&gt;Glenwild Golf Course&lt;/a&gt; who wanted to buy 50-60 bags for some women golfers that were coming in for a tournament.  He would just be giving them as complimentary gifts for the ladies.  AWESOME!  However he had to get the stamp of approval from his "partner".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When his partner showed up she was this gorgeous little thing who (thankfully) loved the purses as well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They ended up buying 75 bags right there and then.  They wanted to have a few extra so that the women always had a choice and wouldn't feel that they were getting the last pick (smart business decision).  Anyway, when I called David and told him he had to bring me more bags he was freaking out that I didn't get him at least one golf game at the course (apparently it's an extremely elite, private course).  I'm just happy with the huge sale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes doing little shows like this are extremely beneficial.  Sometimes you make contacts (like Shelly who I met at another show, but invited me to this one as well); sometimes, because it's a small show, the community comes out in droves to support the cause; sometimes you get a major sale like I did this past time.  Most of the time it's just great because you get to know people when you do the show multiple times and you feel a sense of belonging where people appreciate you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again, this business does so much for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4061567306205062071?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4061567306205062071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4061567306205062071' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4061567306205062071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4061567306205062071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-love-park-city.html' title='I love Park City'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-1141040827939734183</id><published>2008-04-25T06:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T09:15:56.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Park City</title><content type='html'>Today I'm going to a "show".  That's what I call it when I head out to sell my purses at a boutique, or an art fair, etc.  The show starts at 4 and goes until 8.  It's a very small show, but I did this same show last year at the request of my friend Shelly and it was great.  &lt;div&gt;It's done at an elementary school where they have raffles, arts and crafts for the kids, and about 25 vendors.  I was a little leary of doing a show that was so small last year, but it was a great success.  This year I'm going to have David bring up the kids when he gets home from work because the crafts that they had were awesome.  I think they'll enjoy themselves up there and it will give me a chance to show my kids what mom is actually doing when she leaves for her shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the fact that I have this little business.  It provides so much for me.  I get great confidence from hearing that people love something that I created.  The other day I got a phone call from a lady who found my internet site because she had stopped a woman in the grocery store to ask her where she got her "bagette".  Then she called me to tell me how cute she thought they were and she bought one herself, had her sister buy two and her sister told a friend and her friend bought two as well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can you imagine how something like that could just make your day?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It made my week. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1141040827939734183?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1141040827939734183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1141040827939734183' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1141040827939734183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1141040827939734183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/park-city.html' title='Park City'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-4461911119125830321</id><published>2008-04-24T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T06:34:21.612-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And the Winner is....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-1AXx1UuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/zIEwVZVFYNI/s1600-h/IMG_3321.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-1AXx1UuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/zIEwVZVFYNI/s400/IMG_3321.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192567913369129698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is from Carol Anderegg's front yard.  I love this flower.  Julia told me what it was called, but I can't remember right now.  It looks like a poppy to me.  Too bad Carol is off in London and not here to enjoy her flowers.  But I'd wager that she's not feeling too sad about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4461911119125830321?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4461911119125830321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4461911119125830321' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4461911119125830321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4461911119125830321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/and-winner-is.html' title='And the Winner is....'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA-1AXx1UuI/AAAAAAAAAKM/zIEwVZVFYNI/s72-c/IMG_3321.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-1768193107018809636</id><published>2008-04-23T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T04:45:26.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Neighborhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We live in an awesome neighborhood.  While it's usually littered with bikes, balls, scooters, etc. there are other terrifically beautiful aspects as well.  I took these pictures a few days ago just from my street.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is from Jen Lynsky's yard.  She always has the most wondrous flowers.  Mostly wondrous because of the pixies that live in that house love to pick the flowers---but in spite of that they always seem to have an abundance.  Sarah Lynsky once told me that they have fairies that live in their flowers that protect them.  If you see their yard you'll know it's true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pzHx1UpI/AAAAAAAAAJk/f1NnDcfO0g4/s1600-h/IMG_3313.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pzHx1UpI/AAAAAAAAAJk/f1NnDcfO0g4/s400/IMG_3313.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192274116131246738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is just a random dandelion (we won't mention whose yard it came from), but needless to say there is beauty in a dandelion as well.  (Macro photography is so much fun!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pznx1UqI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yHrl3C82nVQ/s1600-h/IMG_3316.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pznx1UqI/AAAAAAAAAJs/yHrl3C82nVQ/s400/IMG_3316.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192274124721181346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is from Melinda McLain's yard.  This is actually the flower that inspired me to go out and get my camera.  The photo doesn't do it justice, but the color differential is very pretty.  I'm still figuring out how to get macro photos in focus.  I went to my photo class on Saturday and asked him about some techniques, but apparently I still need some practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pz3x1UrI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/ZHCSuYkOPkc/s1600-h/IMG_3327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pz3x1UrI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/ZHCSuYkOPkc/s400/IMG_3327.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192274129016148658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The O'Dells flowers behind their mailbox.  You wouldn't even be able to see these as you were driving by, but Jane noticed them and told me to "take their picture".  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6p0Xx1UsI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/9p-GSrbmc24/s1600-h/IMG_3333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6p0Xx1UsI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/9p-GSrbmc24/s400/IMG_3333.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192274137606083266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This daffodil is from Julia Woolf's yard.  She labored diligently to plant her bulbs a few years ago and that very year Jane pulled many of her flowers out.  We had her go and apologize to Julia and draw her a picture of some flowers to "give the flowers back".  (Julia later gave me the picture back because it was so cute with all the little tulips that Jane had drawn).  My job now is to keep Blake away.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6p0nx1UtI/AAAAAAAAAKE/eJnKGlL4Zlk/s1600-h/IMG_3340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6p0nx1UtI/AAAAAAAAAKE/eJnKGlL4Zlk/s400/IMG_3340.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192274141901050578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My favorite picture wouldn't upload because I used up too much space putting these on.  So you'll have to wait until tomorrow to see my personal favorite.  ohh the suspense!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1768193107018809636?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1768193107018809636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1768193107018809636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1768193107018809636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1768193107018809636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/our-neighborhood.html' title='Our Neighborhood'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SA6pzHx1UpI/AAAAAAAAAJk/f1NnDcfO0g4/s72-c/IMG_3313.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-6022197292650736744</id><published>2008-04-22T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T07:30:35.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boots</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We love boots at our house.  You've probably seen my kids running around in these tattered and worn yellow boots.  I bought them for Max, but they have lasted long enough that Jane now proudly wears them.  Hopefully we'll have them for Blake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2ZTT4r3I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6sovoRdh_xY/s1600-h/IMG_3300.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2ZTT4r3I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6sovoRdh_xY/s400/IMG_3300.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190950960062050162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;These were for Max.  He wore them almost everyday for a year.   I loved how charismatic they were, and how easy they were to get on.  They have a hole on the side and the eyes of the caterpillar are worn off, but they are still hanging in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2ZzT4r4I/AAAAAAAAAJI/_nc90_LQ8n0/s1600-h/IMG_3301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2ZzT4r4I/AAAAAAAAAJI/_nc90_LQ8n0/s400/IMG_3301.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190950968651984770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And for the grand finale.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2aDT4r5I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/xxXm8An04vY/s1600-h/IMG_3305.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2aDT4r5I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/xxXm8An04vY/s400/IMG_3305.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190950972946952082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I saw these at Target the other day and HAD to buy them.  It wasn't even my choice, they were just so awesome.  They don't even fit Jane yet, and probably won't for quite some time, but they sit in the closet, quietly waiting for her.  I'm sure the Giraffes will get plenty of time to play.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-6022197292650736744?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/6022197292650736744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=6022197292650736744' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6022197292650736744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/6022197292650736744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/boots.html' title='Boots'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAn2ZTT4r3I/AAAAAAAAAJA/6sovoRdh_xY/s72-c/IMG_3300.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2001435480722163038.post-4308092340510356717</id><published>2008-04-21T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T04:32:11.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day One</title><content type='html'>Well.  Here it goes.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always had issues with my weight.  I've listened to people like Oprah talk about "emotional eating" and other reasons for overeating, but none of that ever made sense to me.  I would just say--"I just like to eat.  I like yummy, fattening, comfort food and I'm not so big into eating the stuff that is actually good for you."  My problem is that I am an instant gratification eater. Most physically fit people wouldn't eat dessert, my philosophy--Why wait for dessert until after dinner?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few weeks ago I had an epiphany, my "aha moment".  I was thinking about how people are quite often in debt and how they just don't have the self-control to save up to buy things, or how many people are incapable of scrimping in order to pay off debts, etc.  I've been listening to &lt;a href="http://daveramsey.com/"&gt;Dave Ramsey&lt;/a&gt; a lot and it would just amaze me the questions that people would have when it would come to money.  It just didn't make sense to me that people would get themselves into such a bad situation because they weren't thinking clearly about the future and their finances.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Um....duh?  That is me with food.  I am in debt.  I'm wearing it.  The problem with my type of debt is that it's physically visible as a fat suit that I've literally built up by not making smart food choices and eating what I want when I want it.  It's that instant gratification.   I have been thinking about this a lot over the past few weeks and I'm finally ready to make a change.  I'm starting my "scrimping" in order to get myself out of debt.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Typically when someone wants to get out of financial debt they put themselves on a tight budget.  This is no different.  Recently I bought a book called "&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Where-Did-All-Fat-Weight/dp/1931290571"&gt;Where Did the Fat Go&lt;/a&gt;?".  It's a book by the doctor from The Biggest Loser and it goes into detail on how the contestants on the ranch lost the weight.   In order to lose weight they exercise anywhere from 4-6 hours a day in the beginning and end up exercising some ridiculous number of 10 hours a day (if they are in the final 4 people chosen).  Anyway, I'm not going that crazy, but it does require 2 a day workouts.  The doctor suggests working out 10-12 hours a week, as well as limiting your calorie intake to about 7x your weight (if you weigh 150 you'd be limiting your intake to approximately  1050 calories).  It's certainly not starvation, but it is very low.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is the first day.  It's actually 5:17 in the morning and I've been up with Blake since 3:20.  He took a big nap yesterday and I guess it wore off sometime in the middle of the night.  He's back to sleep now, but my alarm is set to go off in 13 minutes so I figured I'd write for a moment.  This would be a good day to say, "forget it, I'll start tomorrow" and go back to bed.  But if you're committed, you're committed, right?  I have my entire day planned out with food and I'm actually quite excited about starting this life-long journey.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wish me luck people, I'm off to the gym.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-4308092340510356717?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/4308092340510356717/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=4308092340510356717' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4308092340510356717'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/4308092340510356717'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/day-one.html' title='Day One'/><author><name>Molly</name><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-2001435480722163038.post-1738315923551040463</id><published>2008-04-20T06:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T06:56:20.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>David's Last Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAtIiTT4r6I/AAAAAAAAAJY/05scoEfHs-E/s1600-h/last+day.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAtIiTT4r6I/AAAAAAAAAJY/05scoEfHs-E/s400/last+day.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191322749611061154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today is David's last day being the primary choir director.  He's had this calling for about 2 years and has loved every minute of it (or at least almost every minute).  This picture shows those "minutes" that he didn't like so much--the prep work.  He did prepare well, however, and the kids noticed.  He will be missed by the children, and I'm sure the teachers as well.  (I've been told numerous times how great it was to have David in there for comic relief/distraction for the teachers).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good luck to Sister Cooper whom I'm sure will do a fantastic job as well.  I'm betting that if she ever needs a substitute that David will readily oblige.  And look out cub-scouts....David is coming your way next.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2001435480722163038-1738315923551040463?l=ruberthouse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/feeds/1738315923551040463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2001435480722163038&amp;postID=1738315923551040463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1738315923551040463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2001435480722163038/posts/default/1738315923551040463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ruberthouse.blogspot.com/2008/04/davids-last-day.html' title='David&apos;s Last Day'/><author><name>Molly</name><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/_Xl7Zg-cTMhE/SAtIiTT4r6I/AAAAAAAAAJY/05scoEfHs-E/s72-c/last+day.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
