<?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-2450038253759825736</id><updated>2011-07-30T15:55:09.236-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Over Here</title><subtitle type='html'>moments along the way</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>ari</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>32</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-3431386245262235420</id><published>2010-07-24T09:06:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T09:15:40.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The oldest Jones baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Yesterday marks the day that Noah turned 17 months!  And he holds the unique title of being the only 17 month old in our house hold who did not become an elder sibling that day (or the day before.)  We're enjoying our kiddos and catching our breath.  We celebrated last night by setting free our four butterflies that we grew from caterpillars in our butterfly garden kit.  Piper and Zoe coaxed them out by shouting "Arriba, arriba, arriba!"  That comes from our discovery that our internet/postal mail movie service streams Dora episodes.  A few more pictures:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Noah at 17 months&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: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEr04qVwdhI/AAAAAAAAAR0/EyWmZCj6kQo/s400/IMG_0798.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497475549434508818" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Applying lipstick is harder than it looks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEr04bhIEYI/AAAAAAAAARs/rFKYejLS4NU/s400/IMG_0767.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497475545455661442" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Three happy children&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEr03wRVqFI/AAAAAAAAARk/fyqFDK9_Lsc/s400/IMG_0763.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497475533846718546" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-3431386245262235420?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/3431386245262235420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=3431386245262235420' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3431386245262235420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3431386245262235420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2010/07/oldest-jones-baby.html' title='The oldest Jones baby'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEr04qVwdhI/AAAAAAAAAR0/EyWmZCj6kQo/s72-c/IMG_0798.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-2397798805802269582</id><published>2010-07-18T09:10:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T09:52:25.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well.  Now I know what a kidney stone feels like.  And it honestly is similar to child labor.  But gentlemen, with all due respect, child labor one ups you just a bit.  Imagine feeling all of that pain and then insert a 20 pound sack, hanging from your rib cage and hips, of muscle, fluid, and baby kicking you while you are in pain.  That's kind of the difference.  Well, and delivery.  I haven't yet delivered the unwelcome invader, however from what I hear there will be no tearing or need for stitches.  But, yes the intensity of pain is brutally similar.  Anyway, I've been knocked down by one of these monsters and that's giving me time to update the blog!Our house is getting more and more beautiful.  We've got the yard fenced, sodded, and scr&lt;div&gt;eened in the porch.  The inside is now painted save the kitchen, bathroom, and laundry room.  It is amazing, the difference.  I'm still working on organizing the before and after photos, but we are enjoying this place.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Piper is now four, Zoe is 2 and a half, and Noah is one.  We are very very very busy with them.  Feeding, educating, bathing, and playing, take up about all of the day.  Piper is learning to read, and is taking gymnastics.  Zoe and Noah are singing their ABC's and Zoe is learning to count.  None of us is ready to potty train yet, so little Z is still in diapers.  Maybe next month.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls were flower girls in a wedding recently.  These are the most recent pictures I have of everyone.&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEMPyNbkNcI/AAAAAAAAARc/LM8loiZxKgE/s400/DSCN0317.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495253325595293122" /&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEMPxwCURbI/AAAAAAAAARU/0hKFfdukEas/s400/DSCN0268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495253317704762802" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEMPxWaVckI/AAAAAAAAARM/0G4vZYcfVa0/s400/DSCN0260.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495253310826181186" /&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEMPxL9JOwI/AAAAAAAAARE/Kl8ebCa1tu4/s400/DSCN0258.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495253308019391234" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEMPw_AzqXI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/pvP_q4zB4FY/s400/DSCN0255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495253304545094002" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm.  Pretend the order of photos isn't backward.  That's it.  More to come another time.&lt;/div&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/2450038253759825736-2397798805802269582?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/2397798805802269582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=2397798805802269582' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/2397798805802269582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/2397798805802269582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2010/07/well.html' title=''/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/TEMPyNbkNcI/AAAAAAAAARc/LM8loiZxKgE/s72-c/DSCN0317.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-5115555379656680445</id><published>2009-11-06T22:43:00.008-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T23:17:57.561-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Trick or Treating</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We were inspired by our new home in the One Acre Wood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT8WCDkcuI/AAAAAAAAAPs/rhjyKy49iRc/s400/20091031_185146.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401219308563231458" /&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT8WiJ-4oI/AAAAAAAAAP0/VsbpLMww1_k/s400/20091031_185453.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401219317180064386" /&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT8WyyBbpI/AAAAAAAAAP8/5CR84Qt8nAw/s400/20091031_190902.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401219321642970770" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our new next door neighbors, Dixie and Gene.  They've lived in their home for 46 years.  We have been enthusiastically welcomed by them with sandwiches, and two batches of chocolate chip cookies.&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: 225px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT8XFmM35I/AAAAAAAAAQE/Md0b3EWf9FQ/s400/20091031_191524.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401219326693662610" /&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT8XVzbz7I/AAAAAAAAAQM/kzdNm7zm13U/s400/20091031_205324.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401219331044134834" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Zoe had a great time.  She opened 20 (we counted) lollipops, and gave each one a single swipe before tearing off the next paper. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT9DoBN26I/AAAAAAAAAQU/J7Fv2RA2EQE/s400/20091031_222650.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401220091848022946" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Piper sampled all of the candies that come in packs.  Both girls exhibited good strategies in tackling more candy than their tender minds could conceive. Alas, their inexperience with refined sugar bested them and they left this pile uneaten, to fall straight asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Meanwhile, Noah had a Celebratory Bottle of Milk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And was severely cute.&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: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvUBoQ-UakI/AAAAAAAAAQc/22WKvUrJTyk/s400/20091031_185257.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401225119363525186" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-5115555379656680445?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/5115555379656680445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=5115555379656680445' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5115555379656680445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5115555379656680445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/11/trick-or-treating.html' title='Trick or Treating'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SvT8WCDkcuI/AAAAAAAAAPs/rhjyKy49iRc/s72-c/20091031_185146.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-6236018966912989078</id><published>2009-10-21T23:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T23:38:27.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We bought this crazy house</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then we sold ours and moved.  I'm serious.  That's why I haven't posted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are in the process of remodeling - kind of a major remodel.  We gutted the master bath, leaving only the tub.  We've been in the house a month and still have no master bath or bedroom.  We have our bed in there, but can't spend any time in there because of the construction and things that make it difficult to let 3 children 3 and under in a bedroom.  Did I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; mention I'm trying to raise 3 tiny kids too?  I've been so busy unpacking and cleaning and planning that I haven't thought much about the results of the renovation and that I will have a beautiful new room and bathroom.  I think it will be like a surprise.  "Hey, you've lived here for six weeks, and you've never even been in these fabulous rooms!  Come on in and put your stuff&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; away." (that's the narrator speaking to me).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been in boxes for about 6 weeks too.  Its driving me a little crazy.  I can't find my flat iron or&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; jewelry.  I feel like I'm camping a lot.  I mean, I dress like I'm camping a lot.  This week so far, the cabinetry has been painted.  So, a lot has changed.  I've got pictures.  Somewhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(looking for pictures...)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Boo.  I can't find a before picture just yet.  Maybe its still on a flash card somewhere.  Here's a shot of the bathroom during demolition.  You can see the bathtub in the first picture.  All of the yellow tile and closet framing came out after these photos were taken.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/St_dm-cMOuI/AAAAAAAAAPc/vtAZ0wsHE5E/s400/DSC_0253.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395274540279151330" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/St_dmW2hxJI/AAAAAAAAAPU/CtEx-67tNEY/s400/DSC_0252.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395274529652196498" /&gt;&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: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/St_dnI5plrI/AAAAAAAAAPk/6a3QwNv9VD8/s400/DSC_0255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5395274543087064754" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The doorway in the above picture was closed in.  The plumbers came and fixed things, electricians, new windows were ordered, it was reframed and sheetrocked, and the cabinets have now been built and painted.  And that's just the bathroom.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We also had the air conditioning completely redone (new furnace, new return air, new ducts, new grills, los todos).  The girls room has two of five new windows installed.  Its been painted a LOT, now has a ceiling fan, and new carpet.  It was the room with the door that got closed off and we pulled out a giant built-in bookcase, so it also had sheetrocking, and texturing work done.  Noah's room has been completely painted.  I do have pictures somewhere.  I'll post them in my next post - before and afters shots.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;All that to say we've been busy.  Lots of stories to remember.  On a night when I can type more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Here's a cute little girl story though, to end the post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Helvetica;font-size:medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-family:Helvetica;"&gt;Every night we tell Piper one story that we make up on the spot for her and lately she's been helping decide what happens in the story.  Tonight the story started like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ari: Once upon a time...&lt;br /&gt;Piper: No, not that one.&lt;br /&gt;Ari (laughing): Okay which one would you like?&lt;br /&gt;Piper: The one about a princess named Me.&lt;br /&gt;Ari (still laughing): Okay, there was a princess named Me.&lt;br /&gt;Piper: No, no.  A princess named Piper.&lt;br /&gt;Ari:  Oh, okay, there was a princess named Piper...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and we were off.  She directed the rest of the story as well.  It was about a royal family getting new ladybug boots.  Just because I know you were wondering.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&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/2450038253759825736-6236018966912989078?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/6236018966912989078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=6236018966912989078' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/6236018966912989078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/6236018966912989078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/10/we-bought-this-crazy-house.html' title='We bought this crazy house'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/St_dm-cMOuI/AAAAAAAAAPc/vtAZ0wsHE5E/s72-c/DSC_0253.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-6855156696258935980</id><published>2009-08-31T12:01:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T12:03:52.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>according to Piper</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;You sing it like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A B C Ds K F G &lt;div&gt;H I J K ewhoawhoawhoa P &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Q R S T U V &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Number U X Y and Z &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;now I sang my ABCs, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;next time won't you sing with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-6855156696258935980?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/6855156696258935980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=6855156696258935980' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/6855156696258935980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/6855156696258935980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/08/according-to-piper.html' title='according to Piper'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-4296067587372923596</id><published>2009-08-26T21:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T21:54:09.105-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Z</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SpX1PtvcliI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ayfeJuq7jy0/s1600-h/DSC_0042.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SpX1PtvcliI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ayfeJuq7jy0/s400/DSC_0042.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374471380661999138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Zoe is our caretaker.  Often, if she can't find Noah or Piper and there is some situation that she feels like might put them in danger, she frantically alerts me.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once I was bringing groceries in, so I set Noah in his infant carrier, on the garage floor so that he could watch me walk back and forth from the car to the house.  Zoe thought that I'd forgotten him, and on one of my trips to the back door starting crying, and tugging at the handle of the car seat yelling "baby! baby!!!"&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today Piper was asleep in my bed and Zoe was up.  There was a bit of thunder for a few minutes and Zoe again was trying to locate Piper to make sure she was safe.  I was able to keep her from storming my bedroom and waking Piper.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then tonight (I was in a meeting), Brandon told me that as he was giving Noah a bottle, Zoe came over and wanted Noah's burp cloth.  She walked over to a spot on the floor and began cleaning.  Brandon put Noah down to check out what Zoe was doing (much to Noah's dismay) and discovered that Zoe's diaper leaked and that she was cleaning her own pee off of the floor. He got her diaper off of her and she took herself to the potty and sat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is a lot of fun watching these little ones grow.&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/2450038253759825736-4296067587372923596?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/4296067587372923596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=4296067587372923596' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4296067587372923596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4296067587372923596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/08/z.html' title='Z'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SpX1PtvcliI/AAAAAAAAAOk/ayfeJuq7jy0/s72-c/DSC_0042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-5150957774891336265</id><published>2009-08-02T12:43:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T13:08:57.052-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"Sesame Street has been brought to you by"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We watch Sesame Street. Over Here we do.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So that means that the "Letter of the Day" and the "Number of the Day" are practically people. They are celebrities.  So imagine the surprise and delight for Piper, sitting right in the middle of the bench seat behind me in the car, when we turned the corner of the parking lot and came across...the Letter O!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SnXRgnWasLI/AAAAAAAAAN8/wQeOMubyYuc/s400/DSC_0257.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365424889330839730" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She greeted The Letter O very cheerfully and then said "Mommy, where is the Letter D?  Let's see The Letter D next!"  We apparently had entered into a Letter Safari.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Letters Later:&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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SnXTjDtSQUI/AAAAAAAAAOU/Oktv1xfN-7g/s400/DSC_0336.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365427130325942594" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And my Zoe takes her shaving cream straight across her back and then through her hair in one smooth wipe.  That move produces this look.  She's got something there I think...&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: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SnXTjvwfcBI/AAAAAAAAAOc/kwOazNnmG_w/s400/DSC_0348.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365427142150549522" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Piper dreaming about summer.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SnXTicZBDCI/AAAAAAAAAOE/sEspCSh32m4/s400/DSC_0145.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365427119771946018" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SnXTio2UGcI/AAAAAAAAAOM/zZCE2jM-HFQ/s400/DSC_0144.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365427123116054978" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&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/2450038253759825736-5150957774891336265?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/5150957774891336265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=5150957774891336265' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5150957774891336265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5150957774891336265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/08/sesame-street-has-been-brought-to-you.html' title='&quot;Sesame Street has been brought to you by&quot;'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SnXRgnWasLI/AAAAAAAAAN8/wQeOMubyYuc/s72-c/DSC_0257.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-4440466606058026587</id><published>2009-08-01T09:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T14:40:41.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zoe's baby</title><content type='html'>Some things to remember.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This week Zoe intended to brush Piper's hair.  This morning I finally was able to describe their play.  It is interestingly like a pack of feral dogs.  They love each other, stick together, and yet if one gets too close to a toy there is an immediate and viscous reaction indicated by shrieking, screaming, and potentially flailing and teeth baring.  I intervene, or the situation resolves itself and we go back to a happy wolf cub pack.  So, Zoe went at Piper to brush her hair.  Said viscousness erupted.  I was washing my face and remembered that earlier Zoe tugged her doll out of her crib and was mothering it.  So I instructed through soapy eyes, "Zoe, go brush your baby's hair."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"OOOOOOOtay!" She said.  I went back to washing my face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few minutes later I heard sleeping Noah stirring in the monitor.  I'd just put him down to nap and the 20 minutes wasn't a long enough sleep for him.  I went to check on him and discovered Zoe had opened his door, climbed up the side of his crib and was reaching in with the brush and combing is nearly bald head.  He was arched up as high as he could be from his tummy grinning wildly. I laughed and then Z and I had another talk about not going into her brother's room when he is asleep.  My freshly groomed Noah skipped the rest of his nap.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our day today has not been so eventful, little girl wise.  Zoe is currently napping.  Piper is playing with the Little People city.  She has some quarter sized plastic lady bugs that are taking turns swinging on the Little People swing and riding a motorcycle.  She is talking in her pretend voice which is really high pitched and they are saying "okay, now its my turn."  Noah is laying under his play gym blowing bubbles and cooing at the monkey.  He started rolling over from his stomach to his back yesterday!  That's the hard one for our babies  Brandon is helping with the garage sale a street over and I am taking it all in.  This is August so far.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-4440466606058026587?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/4440466606058026587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=4440466606058026587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4440466606058026587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4440466606058026587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/08/some-things-to-remember.html' title='Zoe&apos;s baby'/><author><name>ari</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>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-1557861881439078312</id><published>2009-06-26T14:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T14:59:48.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>justice?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;baby lemons, I hope they are growing in this 104 degree June&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnmEl25UI/AAAAAAAAAN0/I3OIM6dqVKg/s1600-h/DSC_0094.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; width: 400px; height: 266px; " src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnmEl25UI/AAAAAAAAAN0/I3OIM6dqVKg/s400/DSC_0094.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351727267220743490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Noah, almost 4 months.  He is definitely growing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnl9_gOyI/AAAAAAAAANs/6T3mX5VVLz0/s1600-h/DSC_0101.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnl9_gOyI/AAAAAAAAANs/6T3mX5VVLz0/s400/DSC_0101.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351727265449261858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A little photo essay.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The heat calls for vigilante justice.  Apparently.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnlTdXSEI/AAAAAAAAANk/X-a-kK77ukE/s1600-h/DSC_0102.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnlTdXSEI/AAAAAAAAANk/X-a-kK77ukE/s400/DSC_0102.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351727254031779906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnlOh8JrI/AAAAAAAAANc/JY97PxGhd8I/s1600-h/DSC_0103.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnlOh8JrI/AAAAAAAAANc/JY97PxGhd8I/s400/DSC_0103.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351727252708796082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmmxmD3VI/AAAAAAAAANU/rW4d_vYqqow/s1600-h/DSC_0104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmmxmD3VI/AAAAAAAAANU/rW4d_vYqqow/s400/DSC_0104.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351726179789561170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmmNUIN7I/AAAAAAAAANM/ceQKclEVH1k/s1600-h/DSC_0105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmmNUIN7I/AAAAAAAAANM/ceQKclEVH1k/s400/DSC_0105.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351726170050672562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUml85HX3I/AAAAAAAAANE/0w9y4t8LOHo/s1600-h/DSC_0108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUml85HX3I/AAAAAAAAANE/0w9y4t8LOHo/s400/DSC_0108.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351726165642403698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmlVKzo-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/KLzY5vhhoMU/s1600-h/DSC_0111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmlVKzo-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/KLzY5vhhoMU/s400/DSC_0111.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351726154979189730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmlJ1gHnI/AAAAAAAAAM0/S5E1wKcxxto/s1600-h/DSC_0113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUmlJ1gHnI/AAAAAAAAAM0/S5E1wKcxxto/s400/DSC_0113.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351726151937039986" /&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/2450038253759825736-1557861881439078312?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/1557861881439078312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=1557861881439078312' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1557861881439078312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1557861881439078312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/06/justice.html' title='justice?'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SkUnmEl25UI/AAAAAAAAAN0/I3OIM6dqVKg/s72-c/DSC_0094.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-1341628997555708446</id><published>2009-06-25T23:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T08:03:01.186-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Zoe</title><content type='html'>It was too quiet.  Brandon went searching and heard a flush.  There, in the bathroom, was Zoe.&lt;div&gt;Completely naked.  Flushing her diaper.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-1341628997555708446?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/1341628997555708446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=1341628997555708446' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1341628997555708446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1341628997555708446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/06/oh-zoe.html' title='Oh Zoe'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-5675538996176680526</id><published>2009-06-15T23:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T00:00:29.103-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime</title><content type='html'> by Piper&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pool is fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mosquitos are not fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They eat somebody &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ouch&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/2450038253759825736-5675538996176680526?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/5675538996176680526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=5675538996176680526' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5675538996176680526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5675538996176680526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/06/summertime.html' title='Summertime'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-5090752463620264983</id><published>2009-05-31T22:42:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T06:59:40.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the last night in May</title><content type='html'>Noah is about the smiliest baby ever to have slept (or not slept) in this house.  He lights up at everyone, and not just with a smile, but this enormous grin that takes over his whole face.  I haven't caught it on camera yet, because even though he's been doing this for 7 weeks now, I still can't put him down to take a picture.  He's too sweet.  Noah also coos.  And I mean, the boy talks.  He has more to coo about than our very social girls did as babies.  He will giggle and "ooh" for anyone and has started that developmental bubble blowing.  I love hanging out with him.  The middle of the nights are sweet although, I'm ready to sleep.  Its been a long time.  He is consistently waking up between 3 and 4 am, and is so hungry he gasps as he eats.  I hope that soon, some of this food will stick to him and he'll sleep say maybe 7-8 hours.  That might mean I'll sleep more than 4-5 hours at a stretch.  I'm not complaining.  I think someday I'll long for these sweet nights again.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wanted to have our kids soclosetogether so that they'd always have each other.  Now the babies have come and our routine as a family begun.  Zoe is working on growing teeth lately, which makes her sleep late.  One of these mornings, Noah was back down for a nap, and the normal breakfast routine included only Piper and me.  Piper talked away, welcoming her day.  She chattered and observed, and asked lots of questions.  I bumped around, half awake, messing with the french press, and tried to keep up.  And I thought "wow I'm glad we have Zoe," all 20 months of her.  I had no idea how quiet I am in the mornings and how much they talk and play then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She and Piper love each other well for being so little.  They hold hands, giggle, and really enjoy being together.  They each slip off to play by themselves at times, but for the most part stick together.  I'm curious how the next few weeks will go as we put Zoe and Piper back in the same room to sleep at night.  We separated them when Zoe was about 8 months old, so they've had their own "space" for as long as each can remember at this point.  I've been talking it up with Piper and she is happy about it as long as Zoe is still in a crib, and not a big girl bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once the girls are settled, Noah gets a room, and I get my closet back.  Noah currently and this minute is curled up on a crib mattress that's laying in the middle of my closet floor.  I'm trying to move everyone now, because I expect him to start rolling in a few weeks and this arrangement will no longer be sufficient.  He'll land in shoes if he rolls too far.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brandon is back from playing basketball now so we're going to sleep.  I'm turning off the PBS documentary on cows, and posting my note.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-5090752463620264983?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/5090752463620264983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=5090752463620264983' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5090752463620264983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5090752463620264983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/05/noah-is-about-smiliest-baby-ever-to.html' title='the last night in May'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-3275748223359842134</id><published>2009-05-17T23:49:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T00:10:51.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sundaynight</title><content type='html'>I have no photo of the crane yet, but that's not what you really came to see, right?&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;little guy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/ShDqUmH3WDI/AAAAAAAAALk/88W05poPIsA/s400/DSC_0223.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337023197985855538" /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/ShDqU57gMPI/AAAAAAAAALs/TIPxTC8Dog4/s400/DSC_0084.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337023203302715634" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;lazy rainy day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/ShDqVAO89lI/AAAAAAAAAL0/BBwld3NOhZo/s400/DSC_0204.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337023204994905682" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;sweet zo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/ShDqVROs2pI/AAAAAAAAAME/nMQEKvcBNZ8/s400/DSC_0247.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337023209557252754" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;boogie bunny&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/ShDsumhqJuI/AAAAAAAAAMM/h2ERuSi5Mbw/s400/DSC_0245.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337025843793897186" /&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/2450038253759825736-3275748223359842134?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/3275748223359842134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=3275748223359842134' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3275748223359842134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3275748223359842134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/05/sundaynight-mondaymorning.html' title='sundaynight'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/ShDqUmH3WDI/AAAAAAAAALk/88W05poPIsA/s72-c/DSC_0223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-7814695191306386243</id><published>2009-05-02T23:38:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T00:24:39.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyard Crane</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  white-space: pre; font-family:Arial;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;B made a little video with the footage he shot today, trying out the crane that he built yesterday.  I've been in bed with a fever all day so I missed out on the fun.  The crane is really cool, and I'm excited about what we can do with it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jZeh9Vy6SPY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jZeh9Vy6SPY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-7814695191306386243?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7814695191306386243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=7814695191306386243' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7814695191306386243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7814695191306386243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/05/backyard-crane.html' title='Backyard Crane'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-5708835975435164795</id><published>2009-05-01T14:10:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T16:21:30.172-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have to start somewhere</title><content type='html'>The first note is that while I have pictures of our third baby, they are fewer.  Its not as I understood it -that you have less pictures of later children because you aren't as excited about all of their firsts.  Its just because when the firsts are happening, I am not sitting there grinning with my camera ready.  In fact, usually the camera is in the car and the other two babies are attached to me physically somehow, by their own doing, and there is a pile of laundry and shoes blocking the door.  Then Noah stops smiling/cooing/growing and chaos resumes.  I do have some pictures to post, just not on hand.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Brandon bought a new laptop.  My main goal with it is jotting down some of our stories while standing in the kitchen during naps or cleaning.  If I sit at the desktop, somehow time gets wasted and I've recorded nothing.  The computer came home Wednesday so I'm hopping to it.  Unfortunately Zoe is choosing not to sleep so I'm distracted.  She's crying and I'm hoping that the gentle sounds of the buzz saw in the garage will lull her to sleep.  The buzz saw is Brandon building a crane for a video camera to use tonight to film the closing of the Student Center on campus for the website.  He decided to build it last night and has been &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;moving&lt;/span&gt; since then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Kid updates - Zoe is singing and talking a lot finally.  She's 18 months old and has maybe 10-15 words.  And her own language.  Her language is a gibberty thing with recognizable words and sentences.  It sounds like nothing I've ever heard before.  What I do hear her saying, and recognize is "Shoe!" and "Hello!"  Those two are always yelled, and "shoe" is often a command.  She sings to the tune of ABC/Twinkle Twinkle and has been singing with Piper, when Piper sings the Veggie Tales theme song.  I know a million kids have done this, and sung that song, but it is still really, really, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; cute when they do it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Noah is cooing and grinning, eating and sleeping during the day.  And most of the night.  He wakes up once between 2 and 4 am.  I'm not falling asleep sitting up anymore so I can't complain.  He's been a pretty great baby.  One person (thank you Kara) thinks he looks anything like me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Piper.  Our firstborn turned three last Friday.  She is so fun to watch.  She loves climbing up and jumping off of things.  But she does heed our warnings about hurting herself.  She's not a real big fan of that.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I want to record this, but just for thought: Piper had her first bad dream today I think. I was about to step into the shower this morning when she flew in looking sleepy and upset.  She told me there was a bear growling at her outside her window.  Last weekend as part of her birthday celebration she got to go see Disney Earth with Brandon, and then again the next day with her cousins, and Grandma.  It concerned me then that it might be too much for her, but at three, Piper is already into this sort of thing.  She came home re-enacting the caribou and wolf scene.  I shouldn't ruin it for you if you aren't aware of a caribou/wolf relationship but its very "food chain"y.  The movie shows no blood, but does show animals choosing and preparing their meals.  Anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bear outside was growling at her.  Our conversation:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Why was it growling?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P: It wanted to growl at me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: Was it looking for popcorn? I still haven't been to the store.  We don't have any.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P: Yes, it wanted popcorn, but we don't have any, Mommy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: I know.  Just tell it to go somewhere else for popcorn.  It can come back here for some after I've been to the store.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P: Yeah.  We don't have any yet.  We have to go to the grocery store.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: And also, just tell the bear to ask you in a calm voice.  There is no need to growl.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last part was really creative I think, because this is the same note Piper gets during a fit or screaming episode.  Little girls are prone to both.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Piper has talked about the bear a few more times today.   I did ask if the bear was a polar bear, trying to figure out if the movie started all of this.  She said no, he was brown.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's our day so far.  I'm off to sweep up the dried playdoh off of the floor and pick up toys.  Pictures to come.&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/2450038253759825736-5708835975435164795?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/5708835975435164795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=5708835975435164795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5708835975435164795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5708835975435164795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-have-to-start-somewhere.html' title='I have to start somewhere'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-7614692056316483863</id><published>2009-03-12T11:49:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T12:05:43.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Signs of Life</title><content type='html'>We have a new baby!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Noah Zachary was born February 23 at 1:38 pm.  He weighed 6 pounds 10 ounces and was 19 inches.  He has done nothing but grow since then.  At his two week check up he was already 8 pounds!  He is taking his job much more seriously than his newborn sisters did.  Pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;at the hospital&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_UaGvcjI/AAAAAAAAAK8/BVlFMkO0wTk/s1600-h/DSC_0126.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_UaGvcjI/AAAAAAAAAK8/BVlFMkO0wTk/s400/DSC_0126.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312346855297741362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;the girls seeing him through the nursery for the first time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_Ut2w6uI/AAAAAAAAALE/yq0Uxk8g21o/s1600-h/DSC_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_Ut2w6uI/AAAAAAAAALE/yq0Uxk8g21o/s400/DSC_0114.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312346860599438050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_U7y5JtI/AAAAAAAAALM/ixNnVr-TDLQ/s1600-h/DSC_0115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_U7y5JtI/AAAAAAAAALM/ixNnVr-TDLQ/s400/DSC_0115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312346864341296850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;and at home, 5 days old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_U67NX6I/AAAAAAAAALU/y2xWBEhq-qw/s1600-h/DSC_0076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_U67NX6I/AAAAAAAAALU/y2xWBEhq-qw/s400/DSC_0076.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312346864107741090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_VOPrnhI/AAAAAAAAALc/JquCWSJQ8Ec/s1600-h/DSC_0121.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_VOPrnhI/AAAAAAAAALc/JquCWSJQ8Ec/s400/DSC_0121.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312346869293882898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. I'm checking in again.  Something about pregnancy and 2 toddlers makes time at the computer difficult.  Stephanie P. was telling me I could catch up on the last 7 months "Lost" style, with flashforwards and flashbacks - no real need for sequence.  I like this idea.  Hopefully soon.  For now we are cuddling Noah, whom Piper introduces as "her new friend."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-7614692056316483863?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7614692056316483863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=7614692056316483863' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7614692056316483863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7614692056316483863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2009/03/signs-of-life.html' title='Signs of Life'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Sbk_UaGvcjI/AAAAAAAAAK8/BVlFMkO0wTk/s72-c/DSC_0126.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-4789389059544052205</id><published>2008-07-29T23:01:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T00:07:14.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh these girls.</title><content type='html'>Five posts in July.  I am something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have some sweet moments with the girls today to record.  Every Tuesday this summer, our friend Hilary keeps the girls for six hours (!) so I can get some things done.  It has been an incredible blessing and one I will continue with our friend Danielle, once Hilary goes back to school in Austin.&lt;br /&gt;Today I was able to take Zoe to Kindermusik and back, drop some clothes of at the local mission, buy a cheap frame at the hobby store for my tree picture for Greta's shop, stop by my latest favorite deli for sandwiches, and get in two good hours of planning/work at Brandon's office.  I came home early and was able to sleep a bit while the girls were both still napping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a first for Piper, in a not so good way for me.  I awoke to the pitter patter of little feet.  This in itself is a beautiful dream and one for which I am extremely thankful.  And yet, before today, Piper would wake up in her bed, and shriek for me to come.  That seemed better.  She would get up, take a toy, and get back in bed then wait and wait, shriek and shriek.  Today, the pitter patter means that she is now confident enough in herself to get up, OPEN THE DOOR, and WANDER.  I knew this day was coming.  And yet I think we should train her to stay put until we come get her.  I'm not sure what to do.  This is not the whole story.&lt;br /&gt;     Pitter patter pitter patter.&lt;br /&gt;     Me: Piper?  Come here baby.&lt;br /&gt;     Piper: Oooooh!  Mommy! (as if she was settling in to a quiet afternoon by herself and was&lt;br /&gt;     surprised to be sharing the house with me.  In walks Piper, in the bathing suit that she'd&lt;br /&gt;     talked Hilary into dressing her in before her nap.)&lt;br /&gt;     Piper: Mommy-nay.  Have poopy.  (She means herself).&lt;br /&gt;     Me: Okay, let's change you.&lt;br /&gt;     Piper: Ahwan changing table.  (She means as opposed to me asking her about trying out the&lt;br /&gt;      potty.)&lt;br /&gt;     Me: Well, Zoe is still sleeping so we need to change you in the living room with the diaper bag.&lt;br /&gt;    (We go and I start to pull down the one piece bathing suit.)&lt;br /&gt;     Piper:  NOOOO MOMMY, Piper's looking at!!!!&lt;br /&gt;(When Zoe is trying to take a toy away from Piper, or any child in this situation, I usually say "the kid is looking at that toy, let's wait, here's another."  So, in this instant she means "No, I'm wearing this bathing suit right now, get another toy Mommy."&lt;br /&gt;We discuss changing her diaper, she agrees that a clean diaper is welcome.  But she doesn't want to lose the suit.  I'm whispering as she is escalating insisting that "Piper is looking at", me aware of not waking Zoe, Piper thinking I just don't get it.  After five minutes of GIANT tears, I can hear Zoe completely awake, so I strip the suit.  It was terrible.  She was grateful for the clean diaper, and my promise kept to re-dress her in the swimsuit. &lt;br /&gt;All of that, and we go get Zoe.  Then to Piper's room to play.  Piper in her bathing suit, begins some "Space Ranger" talk: her latest term for Buzz Lightyear.  Buzz is in bed.  I turned to see her clutching him, and realized that Buzz (God bless Hilary) is outfitted in a neon green polka dotted 12 month old girl sized bathing suit.  Piper and Buzz had a wonderful day together in their bathing suits.  I assume this will be the space ranger gear of choice for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only picture I could take is on a disposable Walgreen's camera that we bought on our anniversary trip to San Francisco; then and today our cameras were loaned out to other photographers.  (I'll figure out a way to get the picture here whenever its developed.  I think that process takes about 6 weeks.  I can't remember because that was a long time ago, when people used film.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sweet Zoe.  This little one cut a top tooth today, giving her 2.1 teeth.  B is working late on a big deal project so I got the girls down with the help of a friend and her 5 month old.  It is always a bit stressful, on my own.  I find that 15 minutes alone close to dinner time can get me recharged for the bed time routine, but days like today don't provide that.  And I was ready for the girls to be in bed.  Everyone was quiet by 8:15.  At 10:23 Zoe woke up really upset.  Screaming.  Its her tooth.  Teeth.  I sighed and dragged myself to her room.  I changed her diaper and the sweet thing just layed there, giggling at me.  Usually she screams and flips over.  We talked and flirted a bit together.  She took some baby Tylenol, then I restarted "Sing Over Me" one of my favorite lullaby Cd's.  We were able to dance in the dark for as long as my arms could take it.  Zoe snuggled up under my chin.  It was such a fantastic moment, one I am so thankful for right now because in about six months I won't have the figure to hold her in that way, as the baby grows beneath her, forcing us both to readjust.  She went limp after a song and a half and I was able to lay her down sleeping, which doesn't actually happen a whole lot.  Thank you Father for these delightful babies and these precious moments with them.  They are more than we could have imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also in honor of Jamie's post, I wrote down some of the funnier things that Piper is saying right now:&lt;br /&gt;-I have no idea why, because we don't eat them often, but Piper calls hot dogs "dinner."  Yep, it makes me feel great.  Every time we are at the grocery store and pass any type of processed meat stuffed into a casing she points and yells loudly "Dinner!  I want dinner Mommy!"  We aren't against hot dogs, I like them, we just get the kosher ones when they are half price.  The half price thing doesn't happen very often. &lt;br /&gt;-If Piper wants to be held or needs something while we are holding Zoe she will come close, point next to us on the floor and say" Zoe on ground.  Right here, Zoe on ground."  Once that is under control she presents her request.  Today she asked me to stand in a certain spot (on the heart drawn in chalk actually) because she wanted to sit in my lawn chair.  "Mommy stand here, on ground."&lt;br /&gt;-"That's so cool, Daddy!  So cool!"&lt;br /&gt;-"gorgeous" and "beautiful" get used a lot.  "Its a gorgeous turtle Mommy."  "So cute" was the favorite adjective but has been dropped as she discovered syllables.&lt;br /&gt;-"What you talk about Daddy?"&lt;br /&gt;-Piper sometimes says things very clearly in a startling way (usually requests/commands.)  We and other adults around her get lured into her web.  We will (shocked) repeat what she just said in an asking tone.  She responds with "OOOOkay."  ex: "want chocolate."  "what? did you say you want chocolate?"  "oooookay."&lt;br /&gt;-also as far as food, if we agree to give her chocolate, or macaroni and cheese, she defines the request further for us, so as not to be confusing: "In my mouth.  Chocolate in Piper's mouth."  And she points to her mouth.  To be clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh these girls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-4789389059544052205?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/4789389059544052205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=4789389059544052205' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4789389059544052205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4789389059544052205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/07/oh-these-girls.html' title='Oh these girls.'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-1773358568134070580</id><published>2008-07-26T10:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T10:43:06.148-05:00</updated><title type='text'>toddler games</title><content type='html'>Piper plays a game with her pacifier.  Its just sweet, and I know we're crazy but we're okay with its use right now, even though she's two.  She only gets it in bed.  The game is that a few times during the day, everyday, she comes out with it and this big, silly grin on her face.  I laugh and say "go put that back in your bed," and she runs from the room giggling and puts it back.  I think the game has less to do with the paci and more with interacting with me in trying to pull one over and LOVING getting caught.  Oh dear.&lt;br /&gt;This morning she comes out with it.  I tell her to go put it by her bed.  She runs off.  Piper then comes in with the guilty smile, and has her blankie wrapped up funny near her mouth.  I laugh and tell her to go put her paci back by the bed.  It was just a guess, but she was grinning really big, and I was right: the paci was hidden in the blankie.  She runs off.  She then comes back in with this giant fabric box from her room, that (until right then) held toys.  The box is over her head, the paci is in her mouth and she is giggling hysterically.  Repeat direction, repeat running.  The game ended here, she knows not to push it.  The box stayed out as today's "cowboy hat" of choice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-1773358568134070580?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/1773358568134070580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=1773358568134070580' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1773358568134070580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1773358568134070580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/07/toddler-games.html' title='toddler games'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-7368263767836166976</id><published>2008-07-25T23:07:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T08:41:57.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>dancing queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SIqjNcaf0hI/AAAAAAAAAHc/ttjQjXgnLfo/s1600-h/MammaMia_Dancing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227169768877838866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SIqjNcaf0hI/AAAAAAAAAHc/ttjQjXgnLfo/s400/MammaMia_Dancing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some ladies from church organized a night out to see this movie. I love musicals and this one is one I haven't seen. Those new to musicals should probably skip it. There are often painful moments in musicals where the audience just has to say "but its a musical." Lots of people like them, its just not a SuperHero movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway it was sparkly, and ridiculous. I'm sure at some point in the next 15 days I will be caught practicing some of these dances. That's how these things seem to affect me. &lt;em&gt;See that girl, watch that scene...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-7368263767836166976?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7368263767836166976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=7368263767836166976' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7368263767836166976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7368263767836166976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/07/dig-in-dancing-queen.html' title='dancing queen'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SIqjNcaf0hI/AAAAAAAAAHc/ttjQjXgnLfo/s72-c/MammaMia_Dancing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-540652090102538458</id><published>2008-07-23T23:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T23:35:52.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Display of His Splendor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SIf_NXQdrKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ULlS-SGVoDM/s1600-h/tree.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226426497633201314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SIf_NXQdrKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ULlS-SGVoDM/s400/tree.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have great Hope. There seem to be lots of people around us right now who don't have hope at all, or just tiny glimpses of it. I realize that I am in one of the most beautiful stages of our experience here. We've welcomed two lives and have great Hope for a third in a few months.&lt;br /&gt;But I've also chosen Hope and the more I choose it, the more I seem to have. That is so hard to explain to others who are struggling to have any at all.&lt;br /&gt;I have great hope that the five of us are becoming Oaks of Righteousness.&lt;br /&gt;We've had a terrible few years as well though. But the more we choose Hope, the less terrible these circumstances become. And the more whole we feel because of them. This is very vague I realize, but I wanted to record this time of life, of great Hope and Joy too. I pray that this abundance will always be as tangible. Hallelujah. Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;** Chuckle. I'm editing this after I posted it. I finished this thought and was feeling introspective, and a bit melancholy and tired. I retreated to find my husband watching the remake of &lt;em&gt;Planet of the Apes&lt;/em&gt;, I can only hope out of curiosity.  Now that's a Funky Bunch.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Brandon's only comment: "this is a really bad movie."  Off to observe "ape"/horse/"human" wars...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-540652090102538458?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/540652090102538458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=540652090102538458' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/540652090102538458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/540652090102538458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/07/for-display-of-his-splendor.html' title='For the Display of His Splendor'/><author><name>ari</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://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SIf_NXQdrKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/ULlS-SGVoDM/s72-c/tree.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-668145822005684683</id><published>2008-07-07T22:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T22:17:05.197-05:00</updated><title type='text'>immeasurable blessings</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220475621498307794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SHLa6yH-RNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/VZOoHEBC6Gg/s400/me+and+the+girls+at+9+months.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Portraits I made of my babies and me, the weeks I discovered I was expecting another. I'm due March 1st, I think...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-668145822005684683?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/668145822005684683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=668145822005684683' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/668145822005684683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/668145822005684683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/07/immeasurable-blessings.html' title='immeasurable blessings'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SHLa6yH-RNI/AAAAAAAAAG4/VZOoHEBC6Gg/s72-c/me+and+the+girls+at+9+months.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-6123488454237807283</id><published>2008-06-20T15:41:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T23:03:42.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>If you come for guacomole, mister</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;you'd best jest bring yer own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214067650436582274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SFwW5xsgy4I/AAAAAAAAAGI/2eTvO-kUqEA/s400/DSC_0024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214067667447775202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SFwW6xES_-I/AAAAAAAAAGg/_V8jiXy5nP4/s400/DSC_0041.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I been feeling the inner cowgirl in me, since I finished Leif Enger's &lt;u&gt;Peace Like A River&lt;/u&gt;. Our church book club read it. I wasn't actually able to go, but I've been swaggering ever since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I lost the stand over the guacomole. Time was I could finish one of these:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214068729460440098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SFwX4lX2PCI/AAAAAAAAAGo/83Rdw4Npy5c/s400/DSC_0029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are too sweet once the chips and dip are gone. But all natural! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My girl cleans up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214071066053105026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SFwaAl281YI/AAAAAAAAAGw/IlXq8gQYy2k/s400/DSC_0009.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-6123488454237807283?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/6123488454237807283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=6123488454237807283' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/6123488454237807283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/6123488454237807283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/06/if-you-come-here-for-guacomole-mister.html' title='If you come for guacomole, mister'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SFwW5xsgy4I/AAAAAAAAAGI/2eTvO-kUqEA/s72-c/DSC_0024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-7675937177284340078</id><published>2008-06-09T22:47:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T21:13:55.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>sweet Sweet</title><content type='html'>We love nicknames. Piper has had about 100 since her birth, and Zoe is quickly catching up. We string together any combination of compliment and the child's name that pops into our head at the time and viola, a nickname. Around our house its constantly "boogie, boogie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doo&lt;/span&gt;, boogie bear, baby boogie, Piper &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;boe&lt;/span&gt;, Zoe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;boey&lt;/span&gt;, bunny, sweet baby, pretty baby, Piper baby, angels, sweet Sweet, Zoe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;zos&lt;/span&gt;..." Anyway, that's not the point of this. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;The&lt;/span&gt; point is that being a people of nicknames, we are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;raising&lt;/span&gt; little people of nicknames and our newly two year old daughter has begun inventing sweet tiny nicknames for her family. What a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;beautiful&lt;/span&gt; sound they are to us! It makes me wonder how pleased the Father is with us when we call him by our own term of endearment. Anyway, one day after naps I heard Piper calling to me through her monitor. "Mommy-nay! Come here!" And she kept calling me Mommy-nay that afternoon. Soon she added Daddy-day for Brandon and Zoe-nay for Zoe. It is really very very extremely sweet to me. And now she knows I like it, so when we are having lots of fun, or dancing, or she wants something I'm Mommy-nay. (satisfied sigh).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Photos: once I saw these, poor little Zoe got a haircut too. My babies are born with gorgeous heads of hair and between five and seven months it all falls out in very disappointing patterns. Poor Piper suffered my uncertainty about cutting her long lock. Seriously, LOCK. Tiny Zoe is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;benefiting&lt;/span&gt; from a more relaxed and decisive mother. And yet, those pictures will have to show up another post. They are still on my camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought this doorway jumper on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;EBay&lt;/span&gt; from a grandmother who bought it from an Amish family. It is Zoe's favorite toy and it fits on the framing on our porch. Now that is living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210109673002209874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SE4HJKwfklI/AAAAAAAAAFY/PkTbT-O0Vgw/s400/DSC_2866.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210109682693520306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SE4HJu3FO7I/AAAAAAAAAFg/Yflw6oxbZ1U/s400/DSC_2887.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210109683758674610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SE4HJy1CMrI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Eq6_5f9sbx0/s400/DSC_2895.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210109699917677554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SE4HKvBpA_I/AAAAAAAAAFw/ZnQ1hEi3fow/s400/DSC_2898.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;That last one is called "To Infinity and Beyond." Piper loves Buzz &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Lightyear&lt;/span&gt;. Autumn and her family sent Piper a Buzz doll for her birthday. Once he entered our home (in the fuzz,) he was immediately plopped in the middle of the room and presented all of Piper's best toys. I don't have a picture, dang it, but there was Buzz with a half circle around him of cars with faces, My Little Ponies, and various dishes from her kitchen. She was all three wise men for about three minutes. As far as nicknames go, he is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;sometimes&lt;/span&gt; Buzz, sometimes Buzz &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Lightyear&lt;/span&gt; - nothing fancy. Although, as far as art goes, he has become an inspiration. I guess art direction though, because art right now is scribbling and asking me to "draw a cat Mommy, draw elephant Mommy, draw monkey Mommy," and today (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt; bah!) "draw To Infinity and Beyond, Mommy." To satisfy your curiosity I drew Buzz, or an angel, sadly I can't tell. I guess they are one in the same to a two year old.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our documentation of little Brynn visiting with the Jones girls (Notice row 2, columns 1 and 2 where it looks like Piper is giving Brynn a helpful little whack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5210114693311155266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SE4LtY3azEI/AAAAAAAAAGA/KsBj4IPzZ74/s400/brynn+and+girls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-7675937177284340078?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7675937177284340078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=7675937177284340078' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7675937177284340078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7675937177284340078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/06/piper-bay.html' title='sweet Sweet'/><author><name>ari</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://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SE4HJKwfklI/AAAAAAAAAFY/PkTbT-O0Vgw/s72-c/DSC_2866.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-8422481183405635282</id><published>2008-05-13T23:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T23:05:42.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wacky</title><content type='html'>Whoa- so I edited a post that I started in February turning it into something new. The program didn't change my date. Proof of my intention to post on February 27th! Regardless, the 2.27 post should be considered from the future, say, May 13th. Also, I can't seem to get my spacing right below. And lets all say it together "its too late to think or see straight."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-8422481183405635282?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/8422481183405635282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=8422481183405635282' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/8422481183405635282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/8422481183405635282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/05/wacky.html' title='Wacky'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-1693876481645247074</id><published>2008-02-27T15:16:00.016-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T23:06:30.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to start?</title><content type='html'>Today has been a long day. Brandon is in Houston tonight with his dad, mom, and brother awaiting his dad's emergency heart surgery. The news that he was having a triple bypass came as a shock and we are all a bit nervous. But I also feel peaceful and hopeful about it. Anyway, its tomorrow. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I'm at the computer. It seems like I'm not here until its too late to think, or even see straight. It is relaxing for me to write but relaxing is happening in a lot of other ways right now. A lot of wind-down time is spent in the backyard (which has had a major overhaul this spring) after dinner, enjoying our flowers and vegetable plants and playing with the girls. But, I really need to write more. I feel like writing is kind of like eating vegetables for me: it makes me feel better and I like the idea of it, but when I'm tired, and that's a lot lately, writing and eating vegetables get shoved. Today (and I am embarrased to admit this) we are out of groceries, waiting on paychecks and Piper didn't want oatmeal for dinner. Brandon is gone and I wasn't that hungry so Piper and I shared (cringe) Movie Theater Buttered Popcorn. For Dinner. And that's it. She also had diluted apple juice and I had water. Since we don't have any vegetables in the house and our little plants aren't yet producing, I'm writing to feel better about that decision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I want to finally post all of the pictures of the girls that I've thought I wanted to post for Autumn and the Whites to see over on the other side of the world, and haven't for the last five months. So here we go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpO-4BxxKI/AAAAAAAAACo/VAD3_VbSG10/s1600-h/DSC_6881.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200055561851356322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 475px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 307px" height="266" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpO-4BxxKI/AAAAAAAAACo/VAD3_VbSG10/s400/DSC_6881.JPG" width="475" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Back to January -we made a trip to the Faulkner's ranch to see baby cows. The littlest cow that we saw was only a few hours old. That's Piper, Zoe, and an obviously very pregnant at the time, Brittney. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpQVYBxxLI/AAAAAAAAACw/mo7D50rSuoY/s1600-h/DSC_6894.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200057047910040754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpQVYBxxLI/AAAAAAAAACw/mo7D50rSuoY/s400/DSC_6894.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zoe's four month photo shoot. Also from January/February.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200057773759513794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpQ_oBxxMI/AAAAAAAAAC4/xwh6M2V3pTc/s400/b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200057786644415698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpRAYBxxNI/AAAAAAAAADA/vNez3XEpblo/s400/a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In March I took engagement photos for Stephanie and Dave. They got married this past weekend, and sadly I didn't have my camera with me. I wasn't sad to leave it when we went to Dallas, but as always, was sad I didn't have it when I got there. &lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpUWYBxxOI/AAAAAAAAADI/9gj1iKhxJ7Q/s1600-h/a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200061463136421090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpUWYBxxOI/AAAAAAAAADI/9gj1iKhxJ7Q/s400/a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While we were there for the wedding, we took the girls, Billy and Janice to see the Dallas World Aquarium. It was incredible - the best aquarium I've been to (out of maybe three - but one was in Spain). We saw SO many animals: monkeys complete with babies riding on momma's backs both caged and not, otters, a leopard, penguins, tons of gorgeous fish, flamingos, sharks, bats, and all kinds of birds. We want to go back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We also dug up our yard and got some free dirt from&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpWLYBxxRI/AAAAAAAAADg/fZkf5RCLBjQ/s1600-h/DSC_0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; the camp. &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpWLoBxxSI/AAAAAAAAADo/Kh1vxenNvIU/s1600-h/DSC_0045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200063477476082978" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpWLoBxxSI/AAAAAAAAADo/Kh1vxenNvIU/s200/DSC_0045.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To the detriment of our neighborhood the pile of dirt took five weeks to leave our driveway. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piper helped us in the backyard by watering and throwing dirt. She also followed me and carefully transferred all mulch that I'd spread to the grass. One of my favorite pictures from the spring time weeknights spent in the backyard: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200065792463455554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpYSYBxxUI/AAAAAAAAAD4/IheD6aC5o_Q/s400/DSC_0075.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Easter egg hunt:&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200066870500246866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpZRIBxxVI/AAAAAAAAAEA/QTdQZK5hKJw/s320/1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200066879090181474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpZRoBxxWI/AAAAAAAAAEI/meZp16wHo_g/s320/DSC_0012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Planting vegetables, Piper encounters a cow, Giddyup, Tractor Tractor, Zoe on the lawn:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200069988646503794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpcGoBxxXI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/LIKBfE1Ng_I/s400/DSC_0165.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200070001531405698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpcHYBxxYI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Q5c1atvIV1o/s400/DSC_0169.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200070005826373010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpcHoBxxZI/AAAAAAAAAEg/k3c9AmRASzI/s400/DSC_0194.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200070010121340322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpcH4BxxaI/AAAAAAAAAEo/llvGjdwsPb0/s400/DSC_0197.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200070014416307634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpcIIBxxbI/AAAAAAAAAEw/Kyt6ueCbhQY/s400/DSC_0148.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p&gt;Our beautiful girl turned two on April 24th. We had a party. The party was wild with 17 kids, and that many adults in all in our house avoiding the cold drizzle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200071109632968130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpdH4BxxcI/AAAAAAAAAE4/IDjmlvZUoig/s400/DSC_0058.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Zoe at seven months. This child is competeing with Jude K. for the most difficult to change a diaper. She is crawling and won't quit. So when I lay her down to change her diaper she immediately flips over. I've got her feet in the air trying to keep poo from smearing everywhere and today she literally was doing a head stand twisted in the air, while I tried to clean her up. She wouldn't lay down and kept flipping up into her head stand with her face on the table. She bolted after I took this picture.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200072934994068962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpeyIBxxeI/AAAAAAAAAFI/b3GzFQSs5wM/s400/DSC_2845.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200072939289036274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpeyYBxxfI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/nxs64e5oxIE/s400/DSC_2859.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its now too late to think or even see straight so I have to leave. I promise to come back here before October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/2450038253759825736-1693876481645247074?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/1693876481645247074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=1693876481645247074' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1693876481645247074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/1693876481645247074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/02/where-to-start.html' title='Where to start?'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/SCpO-4BxxKI/AAAAAAAAACo/VAD3_VbSG10/s72-c/DSC_6881.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-7817379245508244768</id><published>2008-01-10T00:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T01:01:59.351-06:00</updated><title type='text'>is this thing on?</title><content type='html'>Well. That was a nice nap. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today Zoe laughed, really laughed for the first time. Its already midnight, so I should say yesterday Januray 9th, 2008 for the record. She's been giggling for awhile, even in her sleep since she was a few weeks old. But today I held her on the couch and Piper ran up, grabbed Zoe's pacifer and propelled it backwards from the couch, in an experiment I assume. And Zoe laughed! She made this loud gasping laugh and did it over and over as I laughed which made Piper laugh. She really only laughed at Piper, I tried to recreate it, and soon Brandon tried, but she laughed at Piper. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Piper's first laugh was at our church retreat, the last weekend of August 2006, for the record. I was holding her on a swing while some of the church kids played on the playground. The kids were running in front of us back and forth swinging and just as suddenly Piper was making the same gasping laugh. I'm glad I still remember that to record it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So back to Halloween. We went to the Oelzes party for all of an hour before our tiny flower children wilted. Actually they were a pink leopard of some variety and a ghost (its what Walmart had last minute - I had a 3 week old and a toddler/baby.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153731786362109314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4W7wQnAvYI/AAAAAAAAABY/nhwQ3V-0_LU/s200/DSC_4267.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153731807836945810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4W7xgnAvZI/AAAAAAAAABg/iRgHIEyWlGE/s200/DSC_4270.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanksgiving went well. It was Thanksmas as we celebrated the two big holidays at once with Brandon's parents. They then left for South Asia in mid-December and will be back next week. Piper ate at the kids table for the first time. Zoe enjoyed the baby papasan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153735239515815330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4W-5QnAvaI/AAAAAAAAABo/WMNGstWgdL8/s200/DSC_0144.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153737807906258402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4XBOwnAveI/AAAAAAAAACI/_sboDNNOspg/s200/DSC_0146.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153735252400717250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4W-6AnAvcI/AAAAAAAAAB4/KTo9rll7bs8/s200/DSC_0153.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not sure how these are the only pictures we have of Christmas. Brandon tells me that we've got video. Piper got a shopping cart. Zoe got some blocks that she is not yet old enough to enjoy. We have new floors!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153737820791160322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4XBPgnAvgI/AAAAAAAAACY/1gYr7x8G924/s200/DSC_5967.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153737816496193010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4XBPQnAvfI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Aneau7GHwqg/s200/DSC_5966.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Piper also told her first story. She and Zoe share a nursery. Its worked out really well at night. I'm still not sure about naps. Zoe woke up from her nap early and obviously cried. Brandon went in to get her and left Piper in her crib. She was awake and played for awhile. When I went in to get she she smiled, grabbed the crib rails to stand up and proclaimed "Zoe! Cry! Daddy!" Pronouns and verbs!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel better having finally posted. I've got to go bed, what am I thinking staying up this late? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153737825086127634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4XBPwnAvhI/AAAAAAAAACg/U9-W5h-y6nI/s200/DSC_4284.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153735256695684562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4W-6QnAvdI/AAAAAAAAACA/DM9N4RdtLPE/s200/DSC_0163.JPG" border="0" /&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/2450038253759825736-7817379245508244768?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7817379245508244768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=7817379245508244768' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7817379245508244768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7817379245508244768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2008/01/is-this-thing-on.html' title='is this thing on?'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/R4W7wQnAvYI/AAAAAAAAABY/nhwQ3V-0_LU/s72-c/DSC_4267.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-3579829082537069856</id><published>2007-10-31T13:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T13:51:17.551-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We've been working on some new moves...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object wmode='transparent' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer' data='http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/46a8f95380ba919f/4728c6651cffdd9f' quality='high' height='429' width='435' id='W4728c6651cffdd9f'&gt;&lt;param value='transparent' name='wmode'/&gt;&lt;param value='http://widgets.clearspring.com/o/46a8f95380ba919f/4728c6651cffdd9f' name='movie'/&gt;&lt;param value='' name='scaleMode'/&gt;&lt;param value='all' name='allowNetworking'/&gt;&lt;param value='always' name='allowScriptAccess'/&gt;&lt;param value='' name='flashvars'/&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='http://www.jibjab.com/starring_you'&gt;&lt;font size='4'&gt;Star in Your Own JibJab! It's Free!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-3579829082537069856?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/3579829082537069856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=3579829082537069856' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3579829082537069856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3579829082537069856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2007/10/we-been-working-on-some-new-moves.html' title='We&amp;#39;ve been working on some new moves...'/><author><name>ari</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-2450038253759825736.post-3357864261819275577</id><published>2007-10-19T14:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T21:25:18.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>photos and a bedtime story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxlhnynzdCI/AAAAAAAAABI/m0rCZFpvpHo/s1600-h/zoe_awake2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123233387342165026" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxlhnynzdCI/AAAAAAAAABI/m0rCZFpvpHo/s400/zoe_awake2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First the photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Zoe awake at about 9 days old, and Piper playing last week. For Piper, sunglasses are a favorite accessory, but are never to be worn. They are for peek-a-boo games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the bedtime story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Piper likes her crib. In the mornings, and after naps, she wants to spend at least 20 minutes in her crib playing, and is not happy if I come get her too soon. Lately when she's tired she tries to climb IN to the crib. Its very amusing. Tonight I was tending to Zoe so Brandon put her to sleep. I kissed her goodnight, and she and he sat in the reading chair for the routine: read, turn off light, go to bed. Usually the parent is in charge and walks the child through this. Tonight, though, tonight less than a minute after I shut the door, Piper leaned over to the touch lamp, turned off the light, hopped out of Brandon's lap, walked to her crib in the dark and started trying to climb in saying "night night, night night." That's my girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxlhoCnzdDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DjH_c3hnsmI/s1600-h/DSC07557.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123233391637132338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxlhoCnzdDI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DjH_c3hnsmI/s400/DSC07557.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-3357864261819275577?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/3357864261819275577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=3357864261819275577' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3357864261819275577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/3357864261819275577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2007/10/photos-and-bedtime-story.html' title='photos and a bedtime story'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxlhnynzdCI/AAAAAAAAABI/m0rCZFpvpHo/s72-c/zoe_awake2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-143309211199798571</id><published>2007-10-18T15:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T21:25:55.985-05:00</updated><title type='text'>she's here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxfFBynzc_I/AAAAAAAAAA0/X59XaHa-iBU/s1600-h/zoe_sleeping.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122779735716492274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxfFBynzc_I/AAAAAAAAAA0/X59XaHa-iBU/s400/zoe_sleeping.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;She's actually been here awhile, I'm just finally crawling back to the computer. Two babies is harder than just one. Anyway, we had a WILD first week complete with rogue epidurals, an ER trip and MRI, a ruptured eardrum, sinus infections, jaundice, and lasers. But, its been three weeks and we are getting the hang of it, I think. Sleeping is non-existent as expected, but Zoe is a great eater, nursing is okay for me, and Piper is attacking less and kissing more. Here's a picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Zoe Elizabeth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;9/24/07, 4:54 pm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;8 lbs, 1 oz.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;20 inches&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-143309211199798571?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/143309211199798571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=143309211199798571' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/143309211199798571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/143309211199798571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2007/10/shes-here.html' title='she&apos;s here!'/><author><name>ari</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://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RxfFBynzc_I/AAAAAAAAAA0/X59XaHa-iBU/s72-c/zoe_sleeping.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-4941520255741891323</id><published>2007-09-06T21:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T22:02:27.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>new life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RuC5zhceJmI/AAAAAAAAAAs/EBW-EYTPKps/s1600-h/z.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107286272240395874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RuC5zhceJmI/AAAAAAAAAAs/EBW-EYTPKps/s320/z.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;I’m due to have our Zoe three weeks from tomorrow. She’s estimated (on the ultrasound machine) to weigh this very minute, six pounds 15 ounces. Piper was born weighing seven pounds one ounce. There’s not much difference there. Two ounces.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the picture you see a profile of her face, and she’s got a tiny hand in her tiny mouth. I also thought it was extremely cute that the other hand at the time was down holding on to a foot. That machine is so very cool. So, here’s to three weeks and a bigger baby!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-4941520255741891323?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/4941520255741891323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=4941520255741891323' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4941520255741891323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/4941520255741891323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2007/09/new-life.html' title='new life'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RuC5zhceJmI/AAAAAAAAAAs/EBW-EYTPKps/s72-c/z.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-7783232341128504999</id><published>2007-09-03T00:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T00:53:15.278-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the sweetest chickie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RtuebRceJlI/AAAAAAAAAAk/CERaRDjjLNI/s1600-h/DSC_0466.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105848793931064914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RtuebRceJlI/AAAAAAAAAAk/CERaRDjjLNI/s320/DSC_0466.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/Rtud7RceJkI/AAAAAAAAAAc/HvZzbGsy9Xw/s1600-h/DSC_0466.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/2450038253759825736-7783232341128504999?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/7783232341128504999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=7783232341128504999' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7783232341128504999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/7783232341128504999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2007/09/sweetest-chickie.html' title='the sweetest chickie'/><author><name>ari</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/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RtuebRceJlI/AAAAAAAAAAk/CERaRDjjLNI/s72-c/DSC_0466.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2450038253759825736.post-5469788033793506278</id><published>2007-09-02T23:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-03T00:27:59.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>little nests</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RtubGBceJjI/AAAAAAAAAAU/PGFUj9pMtro/s1600-h/DSC_0471.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105845130323961394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RtubGBceJjI/AAAAAAAAAAU/PGFUj9pMtro/s320/DSC_0471.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Before Brandon I was unaware of all the different types of nests one person can make. I really thought the practice was "handled" fairly well by birds, and that nests were primarily for holding small families of birds until everyone was too big to fit. Then all fly away and the nest is no longer of use…to the birds. I was frighteningly informed once that sometimes snakes use old nests to shed their skin, and if a person happens to be trimming shrubs in which a such squatted nest contains said shedding snake, the snake will quickly make its presence known before slithering (eeeeeeeeeeeeeek) off into some nearby grass. I didn’t like that moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nests made by people. Having been married for a few years I’ve learned a great deal about nests and human behavior. Nests can be made of just about anything a person is continually in contact with: socks, undershirts, books, envelopes, and sadly dirty dishes. Not to be misunderstood; a nest isn’t just a pile of stuff you left around, it’s an unusually specific pile of stuff you leave around, in a place that stuff wouldn’t or shouldn’t normally be left, i.e. a &lt;em&gt;pile&lt;/em&gt; of dirty dishes on the floor of one’s office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I’ve discovered that our sweet little family has begun to make nests together. Tonight I found a shoe nest in the middle of the floor of the kitchen. I’m really not sure how there happened to be a shoe nest in the middle of the kitchen floor, but I loved that nest and recorded it here. The shoe nest seemed just as sweet a recording of our family these days, as a portrait taken by any glamorous photographer. So here is our family, according to the little nest we made together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2450038253759825736-5469788033793506278?l=somosjones.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/feeds/5469788033793506278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2450038253759825736&amp;postID=5469788033793506278' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5469788033793506278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2450038253759825736/posts/default/5469788033793506278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://somosjones.blogspot.com/2007/09/little-nests.html' title='little nests'/><author><name>ari</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://bp3.blogger.com/_efyWnkwtuoQ/RtubGBceJjI/AAAAAAAAAAU/PGFUj9pMtro/s72-c/DSC_0471.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
