<?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-19581329</id><updated>2011-04-21T19:23:31.780-05:00</updated><category term='amber wiley'/><title type='text'>How did i get here?</title><subtitle type='html'>there are no stupid questions, just stupid people.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-5934132088265529839</id><published>2008-09-03T20:19:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T21:00:10.287-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bedtime prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SL85PjZiw6I/AAAAAAAAC54/ZvgZQOZLPpk/s1600-h/DSC01216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SL85PjZiw6I/AAAAAAAAC54/ZvgZQOZLPpk/s320/DSC01216.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241971430645744546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;during our bedtime prayers tonight kendall had an especially long one.. so much that i wished i had brought my phone in the room to record it.  here are the highlights....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dear God&lt;br /&gt;thank you for all of the people everywhere.  thank you that we can never swim without our floaties in the pool but sometimes we can swim without our floaties if our mommy lets us and when i turn 5 i can go to school and i will see mason's classroom and i will have my own classroom and i will say thank you God so much for keeping us safe when we step in a big ant pile hole.&lt;br /&gt;amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-5934132088265529839?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/5934132088265529839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=5934132088265529839' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5934132088265529839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5934132088265529839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2008/09/during-our-bedtime-prayers-tonight.html' title='bedtime prayer'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SL85PjZiw6I/AAAAAAAAC54/ZvgZQOZLPpk/s72-c/DSC01216.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-6411898709299865917</id><published>2008-08-13T15:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T15:53:41.698-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Masons First Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Its hard to believe that I'm old enough to have a child in school.  Kev and I have really been dreading this day since Mason was born.... and its finally here.  Everyone has told me that time flies once they start school -- i cant imagine it going any faster.   Each time I put him on the bus and watch it drive away I get a knot in my stomach... Im sure i will get used to it-- just another chapter in the life of Mason.  Couple of pictures...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&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://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNGmfXZWoI/AAAAAAAACrA/1XHxk3000kQ/s1600-h/DSCN0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNGmfXZWoI/AAAAAAAACrA/1XHxk3000kQ/s320/DSCN0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234104819003251330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;we walked to school the first day-- you will notice that my eyes are swollen.. that would be from the breakdown i had the night before. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNFadofiAI/AAAAAAAACqo/52lYJY74GGk/s1600-h/DSCN0008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNFadofiAI/AAAAAAAACqo/52lYJY74GGk/s320/DSCN0008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234103512868030466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah, Mason, Luke and Kendall... all ready for our walk to school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNFapl5UQI/AAAAAAAACqw/eE1exTZdqrg/s1600-h/DSCN0019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNFapl5UQI/AAAAAAAACqw/eE1exTZdqrg/s320/DSCN0019.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234103516078362882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;We made signs for Mason and Sarah for when they got off the bus.. Kendall and Luke were so excited to welcome them home!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNFbC3JzPI/AAAAAAAACq4/CvqISLa0yi0/s1600-h/DSCN0026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNFbC3JzPI/AAAAAAAACq4/CvqISLa0yi0/s320/DSCN0026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234103522861632754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;My little man getting off the bus&lt;br /&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/19581329-6411898709299865917?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/6411898709299865917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=6411898709299865917' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/6411898709299865917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/6411898709299865917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2008/08/masons-first-day.html' title='Masons First Day'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNGmfXZWoI/AAAAAAAACrA/1XHxk3000kQ/s72-c/DSCN0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-9144537901376270057</id><published>2008-06-08T21:00:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T15:36:12.923-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicago Marathon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SEygc5-6xcI/AAAAAAAACMI/0-MkfLuCwzY/s1600-h/collage6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SEygc5-6xcI/AAAAAAAACMI/0-MkfLuCwzY/s320/collage6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209715287422322114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, after 2 years of running.. ive decided to run the Chicago Marathon in October.    Its kind of one of my life goals and I figure that now is as good a time as any to mark it off the list.  I decided to run as a part of Team World Vision.  If you dont know of World Vision its a Christian humanitarian organization that supports children and families around the world who are living in extreme poverty.  Kevin and I have sponsored a child for about 10 years now and think the world of the organization-- 86% of all of the money raised by them goes directly to the poor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal is to raise $1000 for World Vision before i run all 26.2 miles of it in October.  None of this money goes to me for my race registration, flight, etc.. it all goes directly to World Vision.  I'm asking for any support you will offer.  Its a good cause and a really easy way to give to those who werent born with the luxuries that most of us were.  I have a web page that makes it really easy to donate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.firstgiving.com/amberwiley" target="_blank"&gt;Amber's World Vision Page&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks in advance for anything that you can give!  Ill keep you posted as I train in what has seemed like running in the pits of hell lately.  Im really hoping it cools down a bit!&lt;br /&gt;Love you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-9144537901376270057?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/9144537901376270057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=9144537901376270057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/9144537901376270057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/9144537901376270057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2008/06/chicago-marathon.html' title='Chicago Marathon'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SEygc5-6xcI/AAAAAAAACMI/0-MkfLuCwzY/s72-c/collage6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-3829156616987727610</id><published>2008-03-19T23:08:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T10:28:01.139-05:00</updated><title type='text'>creep</title><content type='html'>ok..seriously- top 5 funniest moments of my life thus far.  i literally cannot tell this story without sobbing from laughing, so i really hope it will translate through written words.  i will forever share this memory with Julie who saw the whole thing unfold.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Julie invited me to go see the hotel cafe tour at center stage so we could hear Cary Brothers sing. There were quite a few other folks singing too, one of who was Ingrid Michaelson.  You might not know the name, but you know her song, Take me the Way I am.  "if you are cold.. here take my sweater... cause i-i-i-i lo-o-o-ove the way you call me baby"  i wish you could hear me singing it as i try to write that.  Anyway, she was up for her last set of songs and what would become a moment that Julie and i will laugh about for the next 10 years.  Let me set the stage for you here.. Julie and i decided to stand down near the front rather than be seated so we are literally about 50 feet from the artists and in the dead center of the room with stadium seats all around us.  Ingrid comes out with her ukulele and starts to sing a cover of Creep by Radiohead.  I happen to think this is pretty cool song and i know my sweet husband (who is stuck at home with my kids) likes it, so i take out my blackberry and record it for him.  So the song comes to an end, i hit stop on the recorder and the room is dead silent as Ingrid begins to talk about her next song. All of a sudden i hear this loud noise coming from my pocket and i take out my phone to find that somehow ive turned on the song that i have just recorded.  i try to calmly press the off button, but it continues to sing on and now the people on either sides of me are looking at me wondering what the heck is going on.  i look to Julie who gives me the "what is wrong with you.. turn off your freaking phone and move yourself away from me" look.  in a futile attempt to muffle the sound, i try sandwiching the phone between my palms and putting it between my thighs , but it only seems to get louder.  i begin sweating profusely and people around me are shifting and trying to figure out where the racket is coming from.  then i hear Ingrid from the stage say "is someone playing music?  what the heck is that?....wait, is that me singing?"  total panic sets in and i no longer know what to do so me and my phone concert just take off running out of the room while trying to mash every button i can on the phone and apparently hitting the volume button bc it keeps getting louder and louder.  people were yelling.. "shut up", "turn it off" at me as i hung my head and darted for the door.  after what seemed like an eternity, i finally made it out of the room and figured out a way to silence my phone.  I sat down on a bench outside and just doubled over laughing.  i literally think i sat outside that concert laughing with tears streaming down my face for 5 minutes.  When I finally composed myself and got back in there to my place beside Julie, we then could not focus on the concert bc we couldn't stop laughing.  so.. all this to say, if any of you wanna hear a great bootleg cover of Creep by Ingrid Michaelson, let me know and ill let you borrow my phone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-3829156616987727610?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/3829156616987727610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=3829156616987727610' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/3829156616987727610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/3829156616987727610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2008/03/im-creep.html' title='creep'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-1520403811444484103</id><published>2008-03-14T13:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T13:43:30.578-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Tranny Mess</title><content type='html'>this will mean nothing to you if you dont love project runway and christian the way i do... if you do, this is hilarious&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed allowNetworking="all" allowScriptAccess="always" src="http://widgets.nbc.com/o/4727a250e66f9723/47dac6166486111f" width="384" height="316" quality="high" wmode="transparent" id="W47dac6166486111f" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-1520403811444484103?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/1520403811444484103/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=1520403811444484103' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1520403811444484103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1520403811444484103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2008/03/hot-tranny-mess.html' title='Hot Tranny Mess'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-2432155506802851392</id><published>2008-01-30T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T14:12:43.574-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so skinny jeans</title><content type='html'>I bought a card the other day that i loved.  It says " Skinny Jeans are for Imaginary Girls and 12 Year Old Boys".   This came to my mind today when i was having my every Wednesday lunch date with Kendall at Doc Greens.  If you have not experienced the little piece of heaven on earth that is Doc Greens, you are missing out.  I have perfected what i like to call the best salad on earth.  Those of you that know me know that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; no lightweight in the eating department.. so for me to be in love with a salad-- its freaking good.  Anyway, as I'm munching away on my lunch, in walks what can only be described by a black girl as a "Hot Mess".  She was by my estimation about  5'4" and 200 lbs.  Guess what she was wearing?  SKINNY JEANS.  I'm not lying when i say her legs were 2 big denim funnels with tiny shoes that had been forced to pop out of the bottom.  It was like a Saturday Night Live skit was being filmed right in front of my eyes.  Have you ever seen the one with the commercial for 'Mom Jeans' where the women all have really wide hips and have their jeans pulled up to their armpits.  The skit I saw today at lunch was similar except kinda worse.  So many questions come to mind....&lt;br /&gt;First-- "Where do you even buy those?"  In my opinion there are a couple of things that just shouldn't be sold in the size XXL.  These include thongs, mini skirts, bikinis and skinny jeans.&lt;br /&gt;Second-- "How the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hell&lt;/span&gt; do you even squeeze yourself into those?" I was around in the 80s and I do remember laying down a time or two to put on my acid-washed Guess jeans, but these looked as if they could only have been hoisted up by a crane.  My heart really went out to the stitching of her pants...it was just never meant to be tortured that way.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly-- "Who forgot to explain to people that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Skinny Jean&lt;/span&gt; is a description of the pants, not a description of what you are going to look like if you wear them?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nuff&lt;/span&gt; said.. leave the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;skinnys&lt;/span&gt; for the anorexics and Christian on Project Runway.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Thats&lt;/span&gt; where they really belong.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-2432155506802851392?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/2432155506802851392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=2432155506802851392' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/2432155506802851392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/2432155506802851392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2008/01/not-so-skinny-jeans.html' title='Not so skinny jeans'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-5344838695316918825</id><published>2007-11-12T17:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T22:34:03.006-05:00</updated><title type='text'>lasagna</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RzjWdRYR2BI/AAAAAAAABbk/G1uHx18AW-0/s1600-h/075.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RzjWdRYR2BI/AAAAAAAABbk/G1uHx18AW-0/s320/075.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132087573758466066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was gone to Florida this weekend and so last night when I got home we went to Sonnys and the kids were catching me up on their weekend at Grammie and Papa's house.  I dont know if other moms have this problem but my children do not know how to talk in a normal speaking voice.  They yell everything they say.  It seems like the voices go up a couple of levels higher if we are sitting in a restaurant.  This way the entire restaurant gets to be a part of our dinner conversations which usually consists of who just farted or figuring out some way to put the word doo doo in a sentence and then dying laughing at an even louder volume.  And thats just Kevin and my conversations.  :) So back to the weekend at Grammie and Papas..  Mason has up to this point taken the lead on explaining the details of the weekend.  Suddenly Kendall jumps in extra loud with her one detail from the weekend.. "We ate Vagina last night".   I figure I've just heard her wrong until the third time she repeats it. "WE ATE VAGINA LAST NIGHT"  Kevin grabs her arm and pulls her right next to his face while trying hide the fact that hes about to burst out laughing.. "its lasagna Kendall, we ate lasagna."   &lt;br /&gt;And I thought&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I&lt;/span&gt; was a bad cook.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-5344838695316918825?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/5344838695316918825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=5344838695316918825' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5344838695316918825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5344838695316918825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/11/lasagna.html' title='lasagna'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RzjWdRYR2BI/AAAAAAAABbk/G1uHx18AW-0/s72-c/075.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-8002891269978273247</id><published>2007-09-27T15:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T16:16:43.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'>beauty product hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;after this morning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ive&lt;/span&gt; got a quick bone to pick with all beauty companies. there are certain things in life that are worth stressing over.. then there are things in life that make no sense and its like companies set things up just to annoy their customers. Example #1 - Shampoo and Conditioner. Why the heck do they come in different size bottles? i feel like its an endless game of catch up that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;im&lt;/span&gt; tired of playing. EVERY single time one runs out and the other is like 1/4 still full. What did conditioner do to earn the smaller bottle? I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;shouldn't&lt;/span&gt; be forced to do math problems in the shower to figure out what proportion i should use of each to even out the playing field. Example#2 - Falling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt;. Why cant beauty companies secure the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt; stick to the inside of the applicator? I am not lying when I say that once every two months I am on the floor picking up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;deodorant&lt;/span&gt; that fell out and broke into pieces. Maybe its just Dove that does that.. but you either keep it so rolled down that you have burns on your armpits from applying it or you get to remove all of the carpet fuzz and puzzle it back together after it falls out and breaks into a million pieces. This morning I gave up and just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;smooched&lt;/span&gt; one of the smaller broken pieces under my arm and rubbed it in. Now the puzzle will never fit together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-8002891269978273247?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/8002891269978273247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=8002891269978273247' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/8002891269978273247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/8002891269978273247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/09/beauty-product-hell.html' title='beauty product hell'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-946137117559870181</id><published>2007-09-21T22:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T15:46:32.779-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bec gets Hitched</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSIGL-4_7I/AAAAAAAABW4/tv8OLFeliWU/s1600-h/DSCN0100.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSIGL-4_7I/AAAAAAAABW4/tv8OLFeliWU/s320/DSCN0100.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112861116849520562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSIGb-4_8I/AAAAAAAABXA/dd5g2D3XDho/s1600-h/DSC03302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSIGb-4_8I/AAAAAAAABXA/dd5g2D3XDho/s320/DSC03302.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112861121144487874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSI8L-4_-I/AAAAAAAABXQ/IXWUBrjcfZk/s1600-h/DSCN0094.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSI8L-4_-I/AAAAAAAABXQ/IXWUBrjcfZk/s320/DSCN0094.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112862044562456546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSJGr-4__I/AAAAAAAABXY/ic8xSwMHczs/s1600-h/DSCN0095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSJGr-4__I/AAAAAAAABXY/ic8xSwMHczs/s320/DSCN0095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112862224951082994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, its official.. the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mayfield&lt;/span&gt; Family is closed for business.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; got married this past weekend.  She was a beautiful bride and the wedding was a blast and my kids (and Heathers) did great walking down the aisle.  I had a little bit of bridesmaid dress drama before the wedding.  When the dress arrived it was much too big in the chest and way too tight in the hips.  I think there are two words for this problem... Pear and Shaped.  After the seamstress took the dress out as much was possible it was still too tight.  So in true Amber 'wait until the last second' fashion I just starved myself the week before, spent 6 out of 7 days at the gym and found the greatest thing ever made.. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Spanx&lt;/span&gt;. You see, I really like to tackle things the healthy way.   Luckily after a week of hell, the dress fit fine.&lt;br /&gt;Now lets talk about what the week &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; the wedding has looked like for me....&lt;br /&gt;-I decided to sleep in on Monday instead of going to the gym b/c &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;afterall&lt;/span&gt; it was a stressful weekend for me and we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did&lt;/span&gt; do a lot of dancing at the reception.&lt;br /&gt;-On Tuesday I went to the Chinese all you can eat buffet and got my $6.95 worth plus about $10.50 more&lt;br /&gt;-On Wednesday me and Coke rekindled our love for one another.&lt;br /&gt;-On Thursday I ate so much Italian food for lunch that I literally felt like I couldn't move.  This included 4 huge garlic rolls before the meal even came to the table.  Then came home and ate a huge helping of lasagna.&lt;br /&gt;-Today (Friday) I decided to go with a lighter/healthier meal and eat Captain D's where in addition to my fried fish me and Mom ordered some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;cracklins&lt;/span&gt; (if you're not familiar -this is just fried fat that they will give you for free) then I couldn't ignore the voice of Starbucks calling me in to order a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Grande&lt;/span&gt; Mocha &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Frappachino&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all I would say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;thats&lt;/span&gt; its a dang good thing I wont be wearing the dress again any time soon.  Next week I am totally gonna get back on the road to skinny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-946137117559870181?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/946137117559870181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=946137117559870181' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/946137117559870181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/946137117559870181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/09/bec-gets-hitched.html' title='Bec gets Hitched'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RvSIGL-4_7I/AAAAAAAABW4/tv8OLFeliWU/s72-c/DSCN0100.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-5161237889167780210</id><published>2007-08-17T16:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T23:16:21.298-05:00</updated><title type='text'>14000 feet with Bec</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/pUA8okLsVEI"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/pUA8okLsVEI" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/rdACaaOu6Zo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/rdACaaOu6Zo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-5161237889167780210?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/5161237889167780210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=5161237889167780210' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5161237889167780210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5161237889167780210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/08/14000-ft-baby.html' title='14000 feet with Bec'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-1631532424178241210</id><published>2007-08-01T15:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T16:09:29.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Top Five Moments In Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RrDoT7ikzfI/AAAAAAAABFY/4CQLNG7wQSA/s1600-h/DSCN0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RrDoT7ikzfI/AAAAAAAABFY/4CQLNG7wQSA/s400/DSCN0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093826607653899762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today's moment came in right under the birth of my children (and possibly tied with it).  I got to stand around and shoot the breeze with Luke Perry and have my picture made with him (please do not miss that his hand is around my waist).  For those of you who dont know how HUGE this is.... let me take you down a quick 90210 memory lane.  1990- 1995 I'm 13 years old and I sneak to watch this new teen drama called Beverly Hills 90210 every week b/c i know my parents will never approve.  I proceed to fall in love with Dylan McKay.  I have his poster hanging above my bed and dream of our wedding.  1996-1999 I'm living in Athens and my best friends and i get together every Wednesday night to watch.  This is also the time that me and Julie begin to watch every old episode over again until ridiculous hours of the night.  2000- One of the saddest days in History, the Season Finale of 90210.  We have a huge party at Lesleys apartment for the big event of Donna and David's Wedding. We all decide that we will dress up like the characters and we even had a cake made. I decide to be Donna Martin and show up at Lesleys wearing my wedding dress.  The ceremony was beautiful and we all cried when Kelly and Dylan got together at the reception.  2001- Kevin and I decide to take a vacation and somehow we end up in Beverly Hills 90210.  Its kind of like a Muslim making their pilgrimage to Mecca.  I drag Kevin to every known site that was shot on the show to have my picture taken.  Today topped it all when Lesley and I got to go see Luke (yeah, we're like best friends now) working in town on an independent film hes starring in.    We also hung out with John Gries (Uncle Rico from Napoleon Dynamite) and I've included his picture, but didn't really want to take anything away from my boy Luke Perry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RrD087ikzhI/AAAAAAAABFo/Hx93AYUM-Bc/s1600-h/DSCN0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RrD087ikzhI/AAAAAAAABFo/Hx93AYUM-Bc/s320/DSCN0009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093840506168069650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Amber/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-1631532424178241210?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/1631532424178241210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=1631532424178241210' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1631532424178241210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1631532424178241210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/08/top-five-moments-in-life.html' title='Top Five Moments In Life'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RrDoT7ikzfI/AAAAAAAABFY/4CQLNG7wQSA/s72-c/DSCN0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-7311222413805997609</id><published>2007-07-18T18:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T14:14:56.565-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cheese Nipples</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RqT-HLikzeI/AAAAAAAABFQ/h9RM8vgY2LE/s1600-h/DSCN0051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RqT-HLikzeI/AAAAAAAABFQ/h9RM8vgY2LE/s320/DSCN0051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090472878145850850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RqT9y7ikzdI/AAAAAAAABFI/hqS88PyrOIk/s1600-h/DSCN0042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RqT9y7ikzdI/AAAAAAAABFI/hqS88PyrOIk/s320/DSCN0042.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5090472530253499858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:2012/9fb9e1c2cb9cdf41b8fdc1a2b6582d90/image2983.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://localhost:2012/9fb9e1c2cb9cdf41b8fdc1a2b6582d90/image2983.jpg?size=320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://localhost:2012/9fb9e1c2cb9cdf41b8fdc1a2b6582d90/image2992.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://localhost:2012/9fb9e1c2cb9cdf41b8fdc1a2b6582d90/image2992.jpg?size=320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just recently got back from the beach- we went with some friends and had a blast.  For those of you who know Mason you know that he's not all that excited about doing anything remotely scary.  By the end of the trip he was in the water with his floaties (which is HUGE) and we got him in swim lessons the week we got back which he loved.  I never thought I would see the day.&lt;br /&gt;Got one story..&lt;br /&gt;So we were up in his room the other day getting dressed and while checking out his own chest, he asked.. "Mommy, does Daddy have boobies?"  In the back of my head I was thinking "if your daddy had boobies he would never leave his room", but instead I responded with "No, only mommies have boobies".  He then pointed at his chest and said, "Yes he does.. he has these.. what are they called?" to which I responded "those are called nipples."  Looking back at me like a light went off in his head he said "OOOhhh... just like a mouse nipples on cheese."  I can't make this stuff up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-7311222413805997609?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/7311222413805997609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=7311222413805997609' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/7311222413805997609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/7311222413805997609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/07/cheese-nipples.html' title='Cheese Nipples'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RqT-HLikzeI/AAAAAAAABFQ/h9RM8vgY2LE/s72-c/DSCN0051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-1106177747495852124</id><published>2007-06-13T09:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T09:22:01.771-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers Day 2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/L42bQs7NCPA"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/L42bQs7NCPA" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year for Mothers Day since as long as I can remember we have sung this Mothers Day song for my mom.  This is a song that she sang to her mom as a kid and has insisted that we sing it every year to her.  Each year we try and come up with a new way to do it.  Anyway, this year she was in Hawaii for Mothers Day so we made her a video for my dad to show her that morning so she would get her song.  Please let me make a quick disclaimer:  The random weird video clips shown between pictures are us reinacting stupid videos that we made when we were young kids.  While it may seem ridiculous (as it is) Mom knew exactly what we were reinacting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-1106177747495852124?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/1106177747495852124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=1106177747495852124' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1106177747495852124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1106177747495852124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/06/mothers-day-2007.html' title='Mothers Day 2007'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-9030922677979580290</id><published>2007-06-12T20:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T09:11:27.273-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Mouth Babies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/Rm9N5sFNkQI/AAAAAAAAAaw/evD-5TIuceA/s1600-h/DSCN0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/Rm9N5sFNkQI/AAAAAAAAAaw/evD-5TIuceA/s320/DSCN0012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kevin's Mammaw passed away this past weekend and we spent part of the weekend down in Claxton for her funeral.  Of course this was a sad time to say goodbye to seriously one of the sweetest ladies I've ever met- however with kids there is always a funny twist to everything in life.  This was really Mason's first experience of going to a funeral of someone he knew so I was a little anxious about he would handle it and didnt know the protocol on when its ok for a child to see the body, etc. Like every other aspect of parenting, I kind of just winged it and wondered if I would find myself on Dr Phil one day trying to defend my reasoning for letting him see a dead body at 4. We had a long conversation on the way down about how Mammaw was with Jesus now and we were going to all get together to talk about how much we loved her and to give Grammie lots of hugs so she isn't sad. There are a lot of things in life that seem like common sense until you try explaining them to a child. Not easy to explain to a 4 year old that even though shes with Jesus we are going to see her asleep in "the big box" as Mason later referred to it. So I gave Mason the option that if he wanted to see her body he could and if he didnt want to see it that was completely fine too. Without any thought, he let me know that he wanted to see her and Kendall chimed in that she wanted to see her as well. As any of you know, when you walk into a viewing room- its pretty quiet and somber. Let 2 children under 5 in the room and it becomes a circus. As we walked into the room, Kendall was announcing in a loud voice "I want to see Mammaw's body." We let them see her and they didnt seem phased at all by it. In fact, I'm not sure that I have ever threatened more spankings in my life than I did for the couple of hours we were there. The whole "inside voice" thing didnt seem to sink in. At one point Mason was (with the help of his cousin Austin) jumping on the couch with pillow in hand ready to chunk it across the room. After me threatening to tear up his behind.. he became content with playing with the action figures/snacks I had brought for back-up. Just when I thought things had calmed down...I hear his outside voice again from across the room "Hey Mommy look at me-- Hey Mommy, look over here" I look across the room and see him laying flat on his back on the couch. Then he announces to the whole room.. "Hey look at me..I'm Mammaw."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When telling this story to my mom, she reminded me that when we were little we were heading to the funeral for my great uncle and with family in the car, Heather (3 or 4 yrs old) was in the back of the car singing (in the same tune as nanny nanny boo boo) "Uncle Charles is dead, Uncle Charles is dead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-9030922677979580290?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/9030922677979580290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=9030922677979580290' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/9030922677979580290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/9030922677979580290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/06/kevins-mammaw-passed-away-this-past.html' title='Big Mouth Babies'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/Rm9N5sFNkQI/AAAAAAAAAaw/evD-5TIuceA/s72-c/DSCN0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-3102666278750609608</id><published>2007-04-17T20:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-18T08:40:13.481-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amber wiley'/><title type='text'>control myself</title><content type='html'>So I'm pretty much a hip hop dancer these days.  After being inspired by 'So you think you can dance'.. me, sarah and emily (and rebecca when shes home) started taking dance class every tuesday night.  its seriously one of the most fun things ive ever done in my life and i leave pouring in sweat every week.  anyway, they do a performance twice a year and me, sarah and emily were in it last month.  heres our performance... its a really ghetto copy and toward the end you will see sarah fall b/c she dislocated her knee during the show (yes, we are hardcore).  i am the one on with the right at first and then in the back left during the second part.  You can spot me if you just look for a tall chimpanzee in a short sleeve hoodie swinging her arms around.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Z-U5FLWPJY"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5Z-U5FLWPJY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-3102666278750609608?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/3102666278750609608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=3102666278750609608' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/3102666278750609608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/3102666278750609608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/04/control-myself.html' title='control myself'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-5069285329516719938</id><published>2007-04-09T22:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-09T22:27:26.381-05:00</updated><title type='text'>#2 is 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhsDomchIQI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8Cne8kYuUEc/s1600-h/DSCN0024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhsDomchIQI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8Cne8kYuUEc/s320/DSCN0024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My baby girl turned two.. had to give her a shout out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhsDo2chIRI/AAAAAAAAAJw/_zCc3Zjx5Lg/s1600-h/DSCN0021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhsDo2chIRI/AAAAAAAAAJw/_zCc3Zjx5Lg/s320/DSCN0021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-5069285329516719938?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/5069285329516719938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=5069285329516719938' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5069285329516719938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/5069285329516719938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-baby-turned-two.html' title='#2 is 2'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhsDomchIQI/AAAAAAAAAJo/8Cne8kYuUEc/s72-c/DSCN0024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-3913595718408730561</id><published>2007-04-02T23:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-02T23:11:52.633-05:00</updated><title type='text'>the egg hunters</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJPm26PI/AAAAAAAAAHA/aUfCoTEmZUA/s1600-h/DSCN0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJPm26PI/AAAAAAAAAHA/aUfCoTEmZUA/s160/DSCN0013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;well , we had a really weak showing at the lilburn park easter egg hunt.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJ_m26QI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qMcsdtIQmnU/s1600-h/DSCN0014.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJ_m26QI/AAAAAAAAAHI/qMcsdtIQmnU/s160/DSCN0014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;  it was actually the most pathetic easter egg hunt ive ever been a part of.  first of all, they didnt even have the plastic eggs that you put candy in.. they had just thrown down a bunch of those nasty hard candy eggs that have the white lining inside and taste like poop.  secondly, they seriously put out 100 eggs for about 5 million kids.  let me recap the event for you.. "ok kendall lets go find some eggs" (we take 4 steps and 2 seconds pass) "oh wow, looks like they are all gone sweetie, lets go home"  kendall got one mercy egg on our way out from a parent who chunked one at her foot so we could pretend Kendall had found it.  the funniest part of it all is that my kids got one piece of candy a piece but talked about it all weekend.  we did play on the playground, so the morning wasnt a total loss.  next year, they should really just advertise to leave your baskets at home because as long as you have one working hand (or even a prosthetic hand) you will have NO problem carrying your loot home.  dont these people know the real meaning of Easter??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.. after being tired out from the big hunt, we ate dinner at Chilis.  Kevin and I wanted to find a table where we could see the TV to watch the final four game.  After the hostess talked us out of trying boosters at a high top table, we finally found a table where we could barely see the TV and would just take turns running up to see the score.  Mason had already asked me 15 times if I could help him with the crossword puzzle on his kids menu to which i had replied, "no, mommys watching TV."  Suddenly, I see this lady frantically running toward us from across the restaurant and then watch her remove a huge steak knife from Kendall's mouth.  These are the moments in life when you just do the fake laugh and act like you are a complete moron.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJ_m26RI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/qmnHD0LLsv4/s1600-h/DSCN0021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="clear: both; float: left;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJ_m26RI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/qmnHD0LLsv4/s160/DSCN0021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTKPm26SI/AAAAAAAAAHY/P45FfG8oEqk/s1600-h/DSCN0034.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: left; color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" alt="Posted by Picasa" style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-3913595718408730561?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/3913595718408730561/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=3913595718408730561' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/3913595718408730561'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/3913595718408730561'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/04/egg-hunters.html' title='the egg hunters'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RhHTJPm26PI/AAAAAAAAAHA/aUfCoTEmZUA/s72-c/DSCN0013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-1863815904923908447</id><published>2007-03-10T20:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-10T21:02:35.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>batters up...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiIngAKZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/AWdxPsvteaE/s1600-h/P1010120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiIngAKZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/AWdxPsvteaE/s320/P1010120.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiJ3gAKaI/AAAAAAAAAGs/GLprf5uEseA/s1600-h/P1010119.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiJ3gAKaI/AAAAAAAAAGs/GLprf5uEseA/s320/P1010119.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiJ3gAKbI/AAAAAAAAAG0/sQPrUh93aO8/s1600-h/P1010122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiJ3gAKbI/AAAAAAAAAG0/sQPrUh93aO8/s320/P1010122.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;mason had his first tball game today. im not lying when i say i teared up a little bit when i saw him go up to bat. kev's parents came into town for his game and we went out to dinner tonight. on the way home, mason told papa that he couldnt come to his game next week. larry asked why and mason said that he was going to be sick next week and wouldnt be able to play in his game. we all looked at him funny and then he explained (being completely serious)that he would be sick from eating his boogers and snot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;hello..my name is amber and my child is a booger eater.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-1863815904923908447?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/1863815904923908447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=1863815904923908447' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1863815904923908447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/1863815904923908447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/03/mason-had-his-first-tball-game-today.html' title='batters up...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/RfNiIngAKZI/AAAAAAAAAGk/AWdxPsvteaE/s72-c/P1010120.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-2040595257570349795</id><published>2007-02-19T17:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T17:56:15.983-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Run the Reagan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; width: 194px; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 83%;"&gt;&lt;div style="background: transparent url(http://picasaweb.google.com/f/img/transparent_album_background.gif) no-repeat scroll left center; height: 194px; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Almwiley/TheRunsOnTheReagan2007"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.google.com/image/Almwiley/RdogVGjBHUE/AAAAAAAAAGM/julX-qTS-GQ/s160-c/TheRunsOnTheReagan2007.jpg" style="border: medium none ; padding: 0px; margin-top: 16px;" height="160" width="160" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/Almwiley/TheRunsOnTheReagan2007"&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(77, 77, 77); font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;"&gt;The Runs on the Reagan 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="color: rgb(128, 128, 128);"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our team (now called 'The Runs') had our first race of 2007 last weekend.  Here are a  couple of pictures.  Mason ran the fun run and actually ran the entire time and finished in 12 minutes!  Everyone had a blast and I cant tell you how many comments we got about our shirts.  The back of the shirts read "We might not be the most solid runners..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-2040595257570349795?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/2040595257570349795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=2040595257570349795' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/2040595257570349795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/2040595257570349795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/02/run-reagan.html' title='Run the Reagan'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-116846361112346387</id><published>2007-01-10T15:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-17T21:45:08.566-05:00</updated><title type='text'>december recap</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/640/35435/DSCN0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/320/183410/DSCN0010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to recap december in a nutshell...&lt;br /&gt;Kendall face planted into our fireplace and chipped off her front tooth and bruised her face. I literally cried for 3 hours straight and she was fine in 10 minutes. This occured exactly one week before she was to be the flower girl in Trey and Kelly's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trey and Kelly got married on December 16th. The wedding was beautiful except for one part... my child. Kendall had a melt down before she was to walk down the aisle. She was screaming at the top her lungs and as I stood in the front of the church I wished I could have &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/640/956835/n4941285_34506738_6199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/320/363159/n4941285_34506738_6199.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;hid in the poinsettas. I cannot give Kendall full credit for ruining the wedding b/c her cousin Jonathan deserves his share, however he pulled it together just in time to walk the eisle and leave kendall in a pool of her own tears. As I stood watching the whole thing unfold Im not sure if I was more upset at her for disrupting Trey and Kellys big day or for flushing the $75 i spent on her outfit down the toliet.&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;br /&gt;Sadly, this is the best picture i have of my children at Christmas this year. Its especially sad b/c this was taken at Picadilly next to the stupid snowman who wouldnt stay facing forward.&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/640/138319/DSCN0038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/320/966807/DSCN0038.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/640/998200/DSCN0062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/320/901459/DSCN0062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mason turned 4 the day after Christmas. After two days of getting way too many presents, Kevin and I were just about ready to ring his neck. Each year after Christmas, birthday and too much time with grandparents our house becomes a detox facility where we attempt to de-brat our children. Mason is just about to complete his 12 step program and we've just decided to throw in the towel with Kendall. &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: -moz-initial; -moz-background-origin: -moz-initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: -moz-initial;" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-116846361112346387?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/116846361112346387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=116846361112346387' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116846361112346387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116846361112346387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2007/01/december-recap.html' title='december recap'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-116465569501933289</id><published>2006-11-27T14:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-27T14:28:15.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>13.1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/640/777415/n22621129_31284517_2243.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/320/106594/n22621129_31284517_2243.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  A group of about 9 of us set a goal in February that we would begin running some races and train ourselves to be able to run in the Atlanta Half Marathon (13.1 miles) on Thanksgiving day. Well we all finished this past Thursday without ever walking and without dying (although i came close).  The majority of us couldnt run a mile without stopping when we started this process, so Thursday was a pretty big day for us.  I finished in 2 hours 24 min which is a sucky time for real runners but a major accomplishment for me.  At the beginning of the race I was sure I wanted to keep training for a marathon, however I still havent forgotten how I felt the last two miles of the race, so the jury is still out on that one.  Its kind of like childbirth in that sense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/640/113278/n22621129_31284508_9721.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6572/1940/320/996946/n22621129_31284508_9721.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-116465569501933289?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/116465569501933289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=116465569501933289' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116465569501933289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116465569501933289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/11/131.html' title='13.1'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-116391378932133136</id><published>2006-11-19T00:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-19T00:24:55.650-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bootie shakin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#663333;"&gt;this week at moes mason decided to ruin my lunch. i had gone up to refill my coke for the 4th time and as i sat back down mason hit me with "mommy your bootie moves when you walk" and even did some hand motions to make sure i got the picture. i made him repeat himself b/c i wanted to make sure i heard him right. sure enough, i did. i immediately went for the defense response.." yeah buddy, i think everyones bootie moves a little when they walk.. thats just how we are made" without skipping a beat, he responded, "nu-uh mommy.. that lady's doesnt move" and proceeded to point to the size nothing woman refilling her drink... Dang her, hes right.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-116391378932133136?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/116391378932133136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=116391378932133136' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116391378932133136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116391378932133136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/11/bootie-shakin.html' title='bootie shakin'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-116223844364720069</id><published>2006-10-30T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T15:00:43.656-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dawgs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;no great story to tell.. just a picture of this weekend.  It was really the only thing good that came out of the Ga/Fl game.  For those of you who don't know, thats my friend Katie's kids, Luke and Sarah.  Or as Kendall refers to them, Yukes and Yaya. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we did have a huge milestone.. Kendall grabbed her butt and said Poo Poo and when I asked her if she needed to go potty she said yes.  Just humoring myself I stuck her on the potty and about passed out when she proceeded to poop and then say all done.  I've never been so excited to see three turds in my life.  Who the heck came to my house and potty trained my daughter when I wasnt looking?  We have never done as much as to even talk about potty training after the Mason fiasco and now it looks as if its not going to be as tough this round.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-116223844364720069?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/116223844364720069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=116223844364720069' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116223844364720069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116223844364720069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/10/dawgs.html' title='Dawgs'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-116102693413437880</id><published>2006-10-16T14:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T14:28:54.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'>boobies</title><content type='html'>this weekend we went shopping and passed by a Victoria Secret. I noticed Mason looking at the model in the window and wasnt surprised to hear his first question. "Mommy, why are those people all naked?" We have a little bit of a problem b/c Mason calls anything that isnt fully clothed "naked" so if we see someone on tv in a bathing suit surfing he says "go back to that show with the naked men".. i can see where this could get me into major trouble when he begins to tell people that his mommy watches naked men on tv with him.  Anyway, I answered his question with " she's not really naked, thats just a store that sells underwear" After thinking a minute he said "oh i guess thats why shes wearing her underwears and those boobie thang&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/P1010054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/P1010054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;s"&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-116102693413437880?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/116102693413437880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=116102693413437880' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116102693413437880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/116102693413437880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/10/boobies.html' title='boobies'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115855358128717018</id><published>2006-09-17T22:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T14:37:58.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bruised biker</title><content type='html'>i decided to try out something new this past weekend called mountain biking. to some this is a fun sport where you can bond with friends and really experience the outdoors. to me its more like a time to hold on for dear life and to actually feel the bruises forming on your crotch as you hit each bump in the road. kevin did a good bit of mountain biking when we first met in college and he and his friend will have spent many a night in our basement fixing up his old bike. so this weekend we decided to go to n georgia to try out the new fixed up bike that we have spent 8 million dollars on. its funny b/c girls arent the only ones that get all excited and go buy a new outfit for an event or decide they are going to start exercising only to find out that they really just wanted to buy some new cute workout clothes. kev's been so excited about this weekend that he bought a bunch of weird stuff to go on his bike and a new helmet, new padded shorts (um, really should have invested in a pair for myself) and he and the guys went out early sat morning for a 18 mile ride. after lunch they were ready to jump back on the bikes and i thought what the heck, im tough, ill come along for the ride-- i mean, its only 8 miles. i should have known it was a bad sign when i pedaled around the parking lot and my crotch was already sore. we started down this path made up of what seemed like bowling ball size rocks and the bouncing and bruising began. the downhill ride was pretty fun i must admit, however at one point i kind of felt like i was being molested by the bike seat. i literally looked down and the front of the seat was inside my shorts which im thinking isnt right. its when we started the uphill climb that i couldnt really find the beauty of the outdoors. its kind of like riding a horse where after a while there is just no comfortable way to shift your butt. i know little to nothing about bikes so when i hear instructions like 'just shift it to a lower gear' it means i start pushing all of the buttons and hoping i can find some way to make my thighs stop burning. for whatever reason i never found that gear. to make a long story short.. i dont think im a mountain biking kind of gal. last night as i was sitting on the toliet feeling the burn of my pee i was really taken aback to a couple of days after kendall was born when i felt like someone had fought world war III between my legs. at least with that i had a cute little baby to show for it-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-115855358128717018?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115855358128717018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115855358128717018' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115855358128717018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115855358128717018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/09/bruised-biker.html' title='bruised biker'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115772551275817878</id><published>2006-09-08T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-09-08T09:25:12.766-05:00</updated><title type='text'>family camp 2006</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0043.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;thats right-- our 4th annual mayfield family camp &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0067.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;was this past weekend.  to sum it up.. the weather was great, the food was good, and kendall whined from the second we got there until the second we left.  she was running a fever (of course) the day we left and when i took her to the doctor they said she had a pox virus that was very contagious (heather was thrilled).  After talking with mom and heather we decided to take our chances. &lt;br /&gt;Sometimes i seriously think doctors just make up stuff to get your copay and get you out of their office.  One week to the day after Kendall got her MMR shots she had fever and a rash on her face.  When i looked on the paperwork that the doctor gave me it said that symptoms will occur one week after the shot which include fever and rash.  When i asked the doctor if that could be it she said no but its probably a form of chicken pox which seems so obvious b/c i havent seen one child with chicken pox in 5 years and Kendall was vaccinated as a baby.  I guess we will see if Jonathan and Mason come down with the mysterious pox and if they don't, you guys can just start bringing your children to Dr Wiley's office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0085.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-115772551275817878?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115772551275817878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115772551275817878' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115772551275817878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115772551275817878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/09/family-camp-2006.html' title='family camp 2006'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115582707380535510</id><published>2006-08-17T09:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-08-17T10:09:13.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>monkey child</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;color:#009900;"&gt;i never had to worry about sweet little mason getting into anything as a baby. he just stayed where i told him to and all i had to do was turn on a movie and he was glued to his seat. Amber Part II (otherwise known as Kendall) is part chimpanzee. Yesterday we finished breakfast and had gone upstairs to get clothes on, etc and i turn and Kendall is no where to be found. I figure a total of 2 minutes have gone by so she couldn't have gotten far. Boy was I wrong. After searching the upstairs and beginning to panic just a bit i ran downstairs only to find her sitting on top of the kitchen table with Masons leftover bowl of fruity pebbles on her face. She had seriously crawled down the stairs, ran to the kitchen, climbed up on top of the table and literally had the bowl over her face so she could lick out the inside. All of this in under 2 minutes. I smell an Olympic medal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-115582707380535510?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115582707380535510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115582707380535510' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115582707380535510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115582707380535510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/08/monkey-child.html' title='monkey child'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115438078328530863</id><published>2006-07-31T16:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T16:21:25.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>kendall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/Kendalloneyear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/Kendalloneyear.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#996633;"&gt;got kendalls one year pictures and had to share. mason is gone to the beach this week she's been playing only child for a couple of days. the three of us took a trip to olive garden on friday night and we kept hearing kendall fart all through dinner. of course b/c kev and i are so mature we cracked up to the point of crying every time she did it. kev ordered spaghetti which i commented smelled like poop from the moment it arrived. turns out it wasnt the spaghetti that smelled. when we went to pull kendall out of her seat she had literally soaked the front of her dress with green poop. its always a mystery to me how a child can poop sitting down and somehow it blows up the front and covers their chest. turns out the farting wasnt so funny after all. we literally carried her out of the restaurant and through the parking lot by her arms with her body swinging below in order that she would be the only one covered in poop.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/Kendalloneyear%20002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/Kendalloneyear%20002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/Kendalloneyear%20001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/Kendalloneyear%20001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/Kendalloneyear%20003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/Kendalloneyear%20003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-115438078328530863?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115438078328530863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115438078328530863' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115438078328530863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115438078328530863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/07/kendall.html' title='kendall'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115310866427663563</id><published>2006-07-16T22:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T22:57:44.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>vegas baby</title><content type='html'>we got back from vegas about 530 am this morning after the redeye flight from hell.  we spent the week with the godfrees and had a blast.  kev and i slept all afternoon so we are in full swing tonight when we are supposed to be going to bed- its going to take me a couple of days to get back on atlanta time.   the last night we were there we walked up on nicholas cage filming a movie and we were literally 3 ft from him - it was pretty cool.  during the last take before he walks into the golden nugget casino we decided that they would never know we werent paid actors and we jumped in with the other extras and were walking right behind him.  the movie is called 'Next' and you better believe we will be there opening night to see if we made the cut.  the last picture is this thrill ride on top of the stratosphere-- if youve never been to vegas, this is the tallest building west of the mississippi.  at the top they have a couple of thrill rides and you know i wasnt about to pass them up.  eric was the only one i could talk into doing this one with -- its called insanity and it basically hangs you over the side of the building and drops you to a 70degree angle and swings you around.  it was so dang fun but i have seriously never seen eric godfree so scared in my life.  if you ever go to vegas.. youve got to try it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0116.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0116.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0087.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-115310866427663563?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115310866427663563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115310866427663563' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115310866427663563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115310866427663563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/07/vegas-baby.html' title='vegas baby'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115138330164095959</id><published>2006-06-26T23:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T23:41:41.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>jaws</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  its funny how when you become a mom a stupid trip to the store can become the highlight of your day.  my friend katie introduced me to barnes and noble b/c they have a thomas train table in the back corner.  tonight i found a new place to go... bass pro shop.  for the price of $0 i can get my kids totally excited about sticking their head into a shark mouth and forget the $80 we spent at the ga aquarium-- just go to bass pro and my kids will get excited about the albino fish or the wierd eyed catfish even after its swam past them 200 times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0024.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-115138330164095959?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115138330164095959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115138330164095959' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115138330164095959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115138330164095959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/06/jaws.html' title='jaws'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-115040271666529339</id><published>2006-06-15T15:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T15:18:36.673-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Evel Knievel</title><content type='html'>man, we've made some major progress today in the Mason fear dept.  Yes, that is Mason and he is actually smiling coming out of the slide at ChickFilA.  Yes, I had to go with him, but for those of you who know Mason, this is a major accomplishment that he even got within 10 feet of the stairs leading to the tube slides.  &lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/chickfila-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/chickfila-09.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  First he jumped in the moonwalk at church and now this.. i've got a real dare-devil on my hands.  At this rate, he might even get in a pool by 18.  Watch out.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-115040271666529339?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/115040271666529339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=115040271666529339' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115040271666529339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/115040271666529339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/06/evel-knievel.html' title='Evel Knievel'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114964919073714916</id><published>2006-06-06T21:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-06T22:01:11.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma trash</title><content type='html'>so i was driving home from work today and as i was merging over to the left lane and minding my own business i hear all this honking and realize that i am totally cutting off this 70 year old lady with the ball of white hair and im about to run her beat up car off the road. I swerve back in my lane and feel terrible for scaring this old lady to death. Well i end up getting in front of her but i turn around in my car and try my best to motion "im sorry" to her without words. (which is actually not as easy as it sounds.) So at the next traffic light she slams on her gas and i can see her coming up beside me. I am thinking oh good i can say sorry now or possibly get a scolding from an old lady. She pulls up right beside me, slows down with her windows down. I look over to apologize and she is shooting me a bird and screaming "you bitch" over and over. All i can do is start laughing. Who taught Grannie that word and more importantly why isnt she at home baking cookies?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114964919073714916?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114964919073714916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114964919073714916' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114964919073714916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114964919073714916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/06/grandma-trash.html' title='Grandma trash'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114922268736037746</id><published>2006-06-01T23:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-06-01T23:36:29.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Condiment Whore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/1600/bbq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 53px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 92px" height="150" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/bbq.jpg" width="89" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I have a real bone to pick after my trip to McDonalds today. When did fastfood chains become so dang stingy with the condiments? I am one of those people who doesnt really like to eat anything dry. I prefer to drench it in condiments to really bring out the flavor. Today I was in a hurry to eat lunch and decided that i would swing by McDonalds and grab a bite and head back to the office. After yelling my order (yes Carrie i supersized) to a woman who i must assume is 90% deaf and 100% dumb, I pulled up to the window to a huge sign that says "Condiments Given Upon Request" and in small print under said "You will be charged 25 cents for additional condiments". Now really people, is this needed? Is McDonalds so bad off that they have to start charging for ketchup packets and do they really need to post warning signs about it? I proceeded to ask the lady if i could have "some" bbq sauce. Apparently "some" means "one" to her and she hands me a packet. At this point I am feeling like the annoying customer, but my gosh i got a chicken sandwich and fries and that one packet is going to last me about 2 bites. I ask for another one and she says she can't give it to me for free. I pulled away and was so mad about the one packet and my dry fries that i pulled into a parking spot, marched in and went to the counter and asked for 3 bbq sauces. The clueless lady at the counter gave them to me with no argument. Mission Accomplished. Way to stick it to the man Amber.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114922268736037746?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114922268736037746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114922268736037746' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114922268736037746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114922268736037746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/06/condiment-whore.html' title='Condiment Whore'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114844188963157618</id><published>2006-05-23T22:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-23T22:38:09.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stage Fright</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We've hit an all time low on the Mason fears.  Thats right.. go ahead and add "stages" to his long list which consists of puppets, clowns, moonwalks, fastfood playgrounds and food.  It was classic.. Kev and I were all ready with our video camera on, digital camera in hand and we notice that Ms Judy is literally pushing Mason up the stairs to make him follow the group.  You will notice from the picture that he stood 8 feet away from the rest of the group.  He also didnt sing one word until the last verse of the last song.  He stood with his hands in his mouth.  At one point he had both of his index fingers in his mouth pulling his lips in different directions.  This would be one thing if my kid was shy, but this had nothing to do with being shy or being scared of being in front of a crowd.  He was terrified of the actual stage.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-114844188963157618?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114844188963157618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114844188963157618' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114844188963157618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114844188963157618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/05/stage-fright.html' title='Stage Fright'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114827707317004245</id><published>2006-05-22T00:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T01:44:33.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>9 Step Program</title><content type='html'>We are literally drowning in laundry here...Its beyond me how 4 people can create so much laundry in the matter of one day.  I seriously hope that other homes go through the same laundry steps that we do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 1&lt;/strong&gt;: Wash clothes (wait a minimum of 3 hours)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 2&lt;/strong&gt;: Wash again b/c you left it in the washer too long and they are starting to smell rotten. (I seriously did this 3 times just this week)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 3&lt;/strong&gt;: Dry (wait one day)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 4&lt;/strong&gt;: Hit the dry button again to get the wrinkles b/c you're feeling motivated and just stuck a new load in the washer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 5&lt;/strong&gt;: (this can go two ways- a: you lost your motivation and now you throw the clean clothes in a laundry basket to deal with later just so you can dry the other wet load. b: you are still feeling good so you take them out and fold them in neat piles on the couch. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 6&lt;/strong&gt;: Stack the different piles on top of each other and move them to the edge of the sofa so you can sit to watch TV (leave a minimum of 2 days)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 7&lt;/strong&gt;: Take the large pile upstairs to the guest bed so that visitors don't see the clothes on the sofa and/or your husband doesn't give you that look of "what have you been doing all day?" when he comes home again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;note: during step 6-7 you can certainly take things off the piles as needed (ie. you're down to wearing your holy/stained crotch underwear or your children have no matching socks left)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 8&lt;/strong&gt;: Hang up clothes or stuff as much as you can in drawers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 9&lt;/strong&gt;: Start all over again&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114827707317004245?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114827707317004245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114827707317004245' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114827707317004245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114827707317004245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/05/9-step-program.html' title='9 Step Program'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114770618613343586</id><published>2006-05-15T10:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T10:21:32.713-05:00</updated><title type='text'>10K</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSC00622.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSC00622.1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Well, we've officially completed step 2 on our way to running a half marathon. We (Derek, Rebecca, Kelly, Trey, Me and Kevin) ran a 10K in Alpharetta this past weekend. Its by far the longest I've ever run and Derek, Kelly and I all won third place in our age division! So sad that this time next year I'll be in the 30-35 year old division!!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-114770618613343586?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114770618613343586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114770618613343586' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114770618613343586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114770618613343586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/05/10k.html' title='10K'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114676614954373374</id><published>2006-05-04T12:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T00:47:56.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wallpaper from Hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/1600/DSCN0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/1600/DSCN0001-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0001-1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What may look to the naked eye a reasonably simple task has been the nightmare of my week. As you will see in the first picture we were sporting the 1989 floral wallpaper with the added bonus of a floral border to match. I decided this past weekend that I would jump into the 21st centry and strip down the wallpaper during the kids naptime and then slap up a couple of coats of paint at night after i put them down. Yeah, thats not exactly what happened. Just to give the abbreviated version..I began the wallpaper ripping on Monday which consisted of me drenching the walls with this solution and then using a scraper to pull it down. I had found this great stripping recipe online that was sure to work on "tough to remove" wallpaper. I think the previous homeowners that put this crap up used super glue and chose the wallpaper with 14 layers which my recipe didnt take into consideration. So as I stripped off layer upon layer (by this i mean ripped off tiny pieces) I began to see parts of the drywall which even i knew was a bad sign. After 6 straight hours of stripping (never thought i would begin a sentence with that) and spackleing the drywall, I finally had what looked like a blank canvas for my paint. So yesterday I start on part 2 of the walls from hell. I sand down the spackleing (which please note that this puts a layer of one inch dust on every square inch of your house) and get ready to paint. By this point I am not kidding.. i had already had a 2 sit down apology sessions with Mason where I told him Mommy was sorry for being ugly to him when he didnt do anything to deserve it. (which he reminds me of every 5 min-- "Mommy its not my fault that you are ugly to me") I go to paint the first wall and I'm almost done rolling the entire wall when i look over and literally see another freaking layer of wallpaper peeling off the wall. Where the heck is it coming from?? I think I had a mental breakdown.. all I remember is me crying and scraping down another layer of wallpaper that is covered in wet paint. Just about this time Kendall awakes from her nap and i can hear her screaming in the monitor which i proceed to turn off and pretend its not happening. Anyway-- long story short (well sort of) Kevin and I finished the last coat about 2am this morning and the saddest part is that the color isnt even what I really wanted-- but its staying. Now I am going to go get Kendall out of her bed where she has been for 48 hours straight (kidding) And by the way, yes i am going to replace the lovely crystal chandelier-- any of you could be the lucky recipient of it if you're nice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114676614954373374?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114676614954373374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114676614954373374' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114676614954373374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114676614954373374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/05/wallpaper-from-hell.html' title='Wallpaper from Hell'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114653708314349440</id><published>2006-05-01T21:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-05-22T00:49:09.803-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mason</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/Mason.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/Mason.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Mason got his&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/image_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; preschool pictures back and I thought they turned out cute-- its a good thing b/c i havent gotten his picture taken in over a year so it was well overdue. On another note- our 10K is in 2 weeks and i have been a little stressed b/c I had yet to run over 4 miles until today. I took the jogging stroller to the park today and ran 5 miles which i cannot even explain what a huge accomplishment it was for me. The only problem is tonight my knee caps are literally ready to fall off my legs.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-114653708314349440?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114653708314349440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114653708314349440' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114653708314349440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114653708314349440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/05/mason.html' title='Mason'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114575678022722673</id><published>2006-04-22T20:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-22T20:46:20.256-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatties</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#999999;"&gt;Mason's nighttime prayers have been especially funny lately.  Had to share a great one from last week....  "Dear Heavenly Fadder, thank you so much for this beautiful day.  Thank you that we can't call people fat because it will hurt their feelings but we can call animals fat because they don't care.  In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114575678022722673?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114575678022722673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114575678022722673' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114575678022722673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114575678022722673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/04/fatties.html' title='Fatties'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114524217195961966</id><published>2006-04-16T21:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-17T22:45:09.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whats a mom gotta do to get one good picture?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;My goal today was to get one good family picture and a good picture of the kids. Growing up, I always thought it was annoying that Mom would make us all keep on our Sunday clothes for an Easter picture after church. Now I am the annoying Mom and Kendall already hates the whole idea. Being a rookie, I waited until after everyone had eaten and way past nap time before I decided to go outside for pictures. As I was loading Kendall outside-- I see Mason coming down the stairs in gym shorts and Tshirt. (Kevin apparently doesnt understand how much this stupid picture means to me). After taking his Sunday afternoon poop, Mason had pulled up his pants (before wiping his butt) in the bathroom and we now had a nice brown spot on his Easter outfit, so Kev had changed him. After yelling at both of them, I marched Mason back upstairs to put his Easter clothes back on. (Yes, i put new pants on him) By this time I am sweating and mad at everyone so the pictures arent all that great. Maybe we can get a good Mother's Day picture. (ps.. if you didnt know-- that is Heather's little boy Jonathan in the picture- I didnt have another child)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-114524217195961966?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114524217195961966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114524217195961966' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114524217195961966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114524217195961966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/04/whats-mom-gotta-do-to-get-one-good.html' title='Whats a mom gotta do to get one good picture?'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114427177124649243</id><published>2006-04-05T16:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-04-05T16:16:11.253-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Mayfield in the making...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN0010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN0010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt;After one long roadtrip, a million toll booths (Flordia sucks) and a big fat $200 speeding ticket for Bec-- Trey and Kelly are engaged!!  Me, Bec, my mom road down with Trey to Key Largo on Saturday to help him set up for his proposal.  Kelly was down there on vacation with her family and had no clue that he was coming down.  We found this perfect secluded beach and set up tiki torches and had the path to the beach lined with candles and rose petals.  Kelly's family was in on the whole plan and she thought they were going to see sea turtles at sunset.  Instead she found a message in a bottle that told her where to go and Trey was waiting for her at the beach.  He sang a song that he wrote for her and then asked her to marry him.  Meanwhile, me and Bec were setting up fireworks and hoping that there were no cops around.  The whole thing went off perfectly and Kelly was completely surprised.  We couldnt be happier about Kelly becoming a Mayfield!!&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-114427177124649243?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114427177124649243/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114427177124649243' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114427177124649243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114427177124649243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/04/another-mayfield-in-making.html' title='Another Mayfield in the making...'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114304488153199584</id><published>2006-03-22T11:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-03-22T11:28:01.580-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Leper</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/1600/DSCN2912.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;I've really fallen behind on the blogs- its seems like our life has picked up speed lately and I don't think its ever slowing down again. I am currently looking like a leper after deciding to be a good wife and do some yard work. Apparently its not a good idea to clean up a bunch of ivy with short sleeves and no gloves. I was hoping to get some sun in the process and all I ended up with was poison ivy. The day after I woke up with a huge sore on my arm which I concluded was a spider bite and decided I should try to squeeze it and scratch it all day. Well, now two and half weeks and two shots and a round of steroids later- I am covered in it. The best part is that Kevin and I are going on a cruise in two weeks- so now maybe no one will notice my big butt b/c they will be so focused on the leprosy on my stomach. NICE.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114304488153199584?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114304488153199584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114304488153199584' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114304488153199584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114304488153199584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/03/leper.html' title='Leper'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114108167777110892</id><published>2006-02-27T17:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-27T18:09:43.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bagina</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN2876.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN2876.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I seriously think I am going to have an emotional breakdown the day that Mason has to catch a bus and go to real school. He's been going to preschool once a week for a little over a month and I really get a pain in my stomach every time I see him with a backpack on. (Could be that we eat a lot of Mexican food) Seriously though, I just get sick thinking of him becoming a big kid and losing his elmo voice. We had a humerous conversation on Sunday morning while getting ready for church. He came out of the blue with "Mommy when I get bigger I can have a bagina just like you." After explaining to him that he would never have anything but a penis he proceeded to list out everyone we've ever known and ask which one they have. Just having to verbalize that one of your pastors has a penis was just too much for a morning conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN2877.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN2877.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-114108167777110892?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114108167777110892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114108167777110892' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114108167777110892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114108167777110892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/02/bagina.html' title='Bagina'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114028289397272942</id><published>2006-02-18T12:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-18T12:14:53.976-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We Did It!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN2855.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN2855.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  For any real runner, a 5K is a joke... but for us (with the exception of Will who ran the half marathon) it was a big day!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-114028289397272942?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114028289397272942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114028289397272942' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114028289397272942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114028289397272942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/02/we-did-it.html' title='We Did It!!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-114002815858628924</id><published>2006-02-15T12:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-02-15T13:36:25.893-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hottie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff6666;"&gt;Happy Valentines everyone.  There are just those days when I feel super sexy.  I'm sitting at the computer with 18 layers of clothes on and sweating and freezing at the same time.  I haven't showered in 24 hours and my hair is pulled back in a ponytail that you could seriously fry okra on.  I've come down with some crap that makes me want to lay in my bed all day and sleep, but unfortunately with two little ones that's not working so well.  So since Mason has already watched 6 movies this morning (great parenting i know) and Kendall wont go down for another nap, i've brought them into the playroom so they will entertain themselves while I type.  Today is one of those days that I really cannot understand how single parents make it.  If i didnt have the hope that Kev will eventually be home to take the kids, I might seriously jump out the window.   Kevin  won husband of the year last night when he came home and let me go to bed at 7 while he managed to get the kids fed and put to bed by 9.  It was the best Valentine's Day present he's ever given me.  As for me, I've certainly taken home the prize for most unattractive mom on the planet.  I've got to go.. being paged by Mason to come wipe his bottom... man, the fun just keeps on coming&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-114002815858628924?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/114002815858628924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=114002815858628924' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114002815858628924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/114002815858628924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/02/hottie.html' title='Hottie'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113867344428613236</id><published>2006-01-30T20:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-30T21:10:44.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Call me grace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/1600/tripsign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="144" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/tripsign.jpg" width="232" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#009900;"&gt;I've been so proud of myself b/c we've been training for a 5K in February, and I've been running a good bit.  Last week I decided to be super committed and get up before Kevin left for work to go for a run.  So at 6:30 I headed out in the dark to run a couple of miles.  It was dang cold outside so I was running faster than normal and decided to run right in front of Parkview High School because i knew there would be a long line of teenagers that would motivate me to keep running.  So there I was running along at a great pace when the sidewalk jumped up and grabbed my foot forcing me to fall and not only make a total fool of myself, but twist my ankle in the process.  Please realize that its about 7am at this point and every high schooler is sitting in their car watching the whole thing unfold.  When I realized that there was no hole for me to crawl in and die, i picked myself up and proceeded to limp back home.  To add insult to injury, I had three high school students pass me walking to school b/c i was going so slow.  Needless to say, I haven't made it back out for the early am run.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-113867344428613236?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113867344428613236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113867344428613236' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113867344428613236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113867344428613236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/01/call-me-grace.html' title='Call me grace'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113781600240074091</id><published>2006-01-20T22:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-21T15:35:45.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuftin</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN2772.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 269px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" height="198" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN2772.jpg" width="243" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;I put Mason down to bed tonight which is rare b/c i usually deal with Kendall while Kev puts him to bed. After a day like today, he knew better than to leave me alone for one more minute with her. Anyway, I asked Mason if he wanted to say his prayers and he said no, so I went into a most likely useless discussion with him about how we need to take time out to talk to God even if we dont feel like it sometimes. So then i told him to say his prayers and this is what i got.. "Dear Heavenly Fodder, thank you for nuftin that i like and nuftin that i dont like. The End. In Jesus name I pray, Amen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" 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/19581329-113781600240074091?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113781600240074091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113781600240074091' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113781600240074091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113781600240074091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/01/nuftin.html' title='Nuftin'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113777068499838810</id><published>2006-01-20T10:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T10:24:44.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>GET IT OFF MY SCREEN</title><content type='html'>Does anyone else know why the big fat silver thing is blocking the top of my screen?  Being the computer genius that i am i have tried to fix it and have only made it worse.  Help??!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-113777068499838810?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113777068499838810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113777068499838810' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113777068499838810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113777068499838810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/01/get-it-off-my-screen_20.html' title='GET IT OFF MY SCREEN'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113642936506891233</id><published>2006-01-04T21:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-01-04T21:49:25.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>AAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGG</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/530433650ELpwKg_ph.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="CLEAR: all; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/530433650ELpwKg_ph.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;well i officially have a 3 year old and he is officially a pirate.  his papa has taught him pirate language so I am called an "old landlubber" or told to walk the plank at least once a day.  so i decided we would do a pirate themed bday.  poor mason quite possibly has the worst birthday date on earth... Dec 26th.  Its the last day of the entire year that anyone feels like buying gifts or doing anything remotely close to partying.  To make things worse, i was making calls the morning of his birthday to warn everyone that Mason was running a fever.  Last year we made the same call about a stomach virus- what is it with sick bdays?  anyway, the party was fun, he got way more than he needed and he got to dress like a pirate.  is it bad that i am &lt;strong&gt;so&lt;/strong&gt; glad the holidays are over?? Packing, moving, unpacking, Christmas, Mason's Bday, New Years, my birthday all smooshed into 4 weeks-- not as fun as it sounds.  Now if i could just get Kendall feeling better and figure out where my pajama pants are hidden I'll be great.  &lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-113642936506891233?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113642936506891233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113642936506891233' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113642936506891233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113642936506891233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2006/01/aaaarrrrrrrggggggg.html' title='AAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGG'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113436324335076517</id><published>2005-12-11T23:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-11T23:54:03.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;BODY&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/DSCN2674.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN2674.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/BODY&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-113436324335076517?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113436324335076517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113436324335076517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113436324335076517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113436324335076517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2005/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113415814733077438</id><published>2005-12-09T14:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T14:55:47.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kendall's 8 month pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;BODY&gt;&lt;A HREF='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/640/collage.jpg'&gt;&lt;IMG SRC='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/collage.jpg' border=0 alt='' style='clear:all;float:left;margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; cursor:hand'&gt;&lt;/A&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/BODY&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' 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/19581329-113415814733077438?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113415814733077438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113415814733077438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113415814733077438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113415814733077438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2005/12/kendalls-8-month-pictures.html' title='Kendall&apos;s 8 month pictures'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113375264734743190</id><published>2005-12-04T22:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T22:17:27.353-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/272/1394/640/DSCN2629.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/272/1394/320/DSCN2629.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall trying to keep up with Mason&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-113375264734743190?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113375264734743190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113375264734743190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113375264734743190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113375264734743190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2005/12/kendall-trying-to-keep-up-with-mason.html' title=''/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113375254494893063</id><published>2005-12-04T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T22:15:44.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/272/1394/640/DSCN2650.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:2px solid #660066; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/hello/272/1394/320/DSCN2650.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddys girl&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-113375254494893063?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113375254494893063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113375254494893063' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113375254494893063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113375254494893063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2005/12/daddys-girl.html' title=''/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19581329.post-113375154396290841</id><published>2005-12-04T21:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-12-04T21:59:03.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mason singing at church</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/1600/DSCN2667.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6572/1940/320/DSCN2667.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason sang in front of the church with his choir for the first time tonight.  He was adorable and really got into it.  He and Maya sang louder than anyone else and Mason was really overemphasizing every word with his lips stuck way out.  They only sang happy birthday Jesus, so the preformance lasted a total of 30 seconds which kind of stunk.  This morning in Sunday school Mason was asked to tell the class about his family.  His teacher said he told the class that he had a very special uncle Trey.  I was shocked that he didnt start off with his very special mom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/19581329-113375154396290841?l=wileykids.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/feeds/113375154396290841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=19581329&amp;postID=113375154396290841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113375154396290841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/19581329/posts/default/113375154396290841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wileykids.blogspot.com/2005/12/mason-singing-at-church.html' title='Mason singing at church'/><author><name>Amber</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01739955707685872595</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_K9EMlj_zJxM/SKNKPPnXSOI/AAAAAAAACrU/8WglVG5w3aY/s1600-R/DSC01110.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
