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Showing posts from December, 2010

Trail of lights

Every year we have hit "Zoo Lights" and loved it. Some years we freeze, others we get snowed on. This year we decided to try something new and we hit "Trail of Lights" at Chatfield instead. It was fun and pretty, but it was no "Zoo lights". Oh well, it was close by and we still had a lot of fun with no crowds to fight and no long drive. Here are the highlights !

A Passion for Fashion

For the life of me I can't seem to find the " sarcasm font" on my computer. If I could, I would apply it to the title of this post. I am passionate about many things; my children, education, helping women lift themselves from poverty. Fashion falls some where higher on the list than "dental hygiene " and lower than "really good food". A good day for me is clean yoga pants and a tee shirt. Usually, but not always, my outfit will include clean undies and a bra. Hey, don't judge, I have kept 3 children alive for 5 years and sometimes that takes all I've got. For a while I could blame my post baby body and the fact that I was in between sizes for my slightly lack-luster wardrobe. Now said baby is a year old and I have no excuse for leaving the house looking like a lesbian librarian. Last year I did a style post that got me moving in the right directions. Sense fashion changes, I figure it is time to do another little up-date First up, military st

Wordless Wednesday- Big girls

Thinking

I am a compulsive " over thinker ". I am an information junky . These things go hand in hand. When faced with a problem, my first resource is information which is gathered like a rabid squirrel hording nuts facing a nuclear winter. And then I think. I chew over information, mull it over and over again until...well, until it usually ends up in some form or another on my blog. My dad is quirky, and I mean that in a good way. Even though he is currently sporting uni-bomber hair, he is one of the smartest men I have ever met. Back when he was a grown up (I am saying that because I not sure what he is now, retired maybe?) he was a consultant, which basically means he was paid obscene amounts of money for telling people what they were doing wrong and how to do it better. And to think, I was given all that information for free for year while I was growing up and had no appreciation for it! My dad likes thinks like "mission statements" and "actionable goals"

Christmas Pictures- Round 1

I Blame my Mother

It is her fault. I can't help the way I was raised, I was brain washed from young age. Some of my earliest memories of Christmas are of my mother in the kitchen. Every year she would slave away, Christmas music blaring, while she baked one delicious sweet after another. She would make sweet breads and candy's , cookies and bars. We were allowed one or two but the rest were packed away in Tupperware in the freezer . Until the day we made plates. All the yummys were brought out and lined up on the table, fudge, gingerbread, toffee, caramels, cookies of all types, mini loves of cranberry orange bread. Assembly line style, plates were filled to overflowing, wrapped , labeled and bowed to be distributed among those we deemed worthy, pastors, teachers, bus drivers and friends. To me, Christmas is synonymous with baking and I blame my mother. When I play Christmas music I just can't keep myself from whipping up a batch of whoopie pies or revel bars. Soon the house smell

Christmas Time

Its that time of year again. And frankly I am feeling a little... grinchy . I don't know if its that fact we have yet to have a good snow (HELLO! It is freaking December in COLORADO! what the heck?!) Or if I am just sick of Matt having to travel or if I am just put out buy all the commercialism and consumerism of the season, but my Christmas spirit is, well, lacking. Eliana loves this time of year and I do my best to make it very special. We bake ridiculous amounts of cookies, even for me, decorate the house, read special stories, the whole works. And yet my heart just feels...grumpy. Last year we got a little people manger scene. We brought it out this Christmas and Eliana loves to tell the story. She will actually hide all the pieces from her sisters because "they just don't do it right!" The other morning I came down and the scene was all set up, Eliana style. That means everything, from sheep to camels to kings, was facing the sleeping baby Jesus. All the pie

Name that Crocker- Age 1