<?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-6046900150362286125</id><updated>2011-09-03T08:54:24.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>With a Cherry on Top</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-2476000727902455321</id><published>2011-08-26T13:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T14:41:30.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Moon 2011</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-lzJJ7ygAA/TlgLSyQEvDI/AAAAAAAAAOY/982coRgk1B4/s320/IMG_4626.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645274550263659570" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Family Moon 2011"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been awhile since I last visited this site....and even longer since I posted. A little more than a year has passed and we've been busy. For starters, AB is now five years old. We had a baby girl, Rosemary, Paul prepared for and passed his boards and Emmett is now three. Last, but not least, we celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary this summer. What an amazing 10 years. 3 children. 1 dog (who has had at least 9 lives). 1 medicine degree. 1 board certified radiologist. 6 consecutive years (and counting) of pregnancy, nursing and/or both simultaneously. 1 king size bed. 1 home in the South. 1 home in the Midwest. Soon to be 1 home in Rome, GA. Approximately 75 'chez holcombe' haircuts. Approximately one half dozen bad 'chez holcombe' haircuts. Life has been full these past 10 years. I feel grateful. I feel well-loved by a good man. This past weekend we decided to treat ourselves to a grand night at the lovely Chase Park Plaza here in Saint Louis. We decided that a "familymoon" would be the most appropriate way for us to celebrate....it was fantastic and we loved every minute of it....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nvc3mSymQF4/TlgMGtVjwOI/AAAAAAAAAPA/1u_4qaYl97k/s1600/IMG_4676.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nvc3mSymQF4/TlgMGtVjwOI/AAAAAAAAAPA/1u_4qaYl97k/s320/IMG_4676.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645275442297684194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Chase Park Plaza....Pool Area&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-976abIbOfhQ/TlgMGMp6FeI/AAAAAAAAAO4/A5ALADSPowk/s1600/IMG_4675.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-976abIbOfhQ/TlgMGMp6FeI/AAAAAAAAAO4/A5ALADSPowk/s320/IMG_4675.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645275433524663778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The children have been 'pool starved' this summer. We've got to get them swim lessons. I am sure it is the ticket to early bedtime. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JKUiATb3NB0/TlgMFvFTdlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/g0DL1RHE3rQ/s1600/IMG_4673.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JKUiATb3NB0/TlgMFvFTdlI/AAAAAAAAAOw/g0DL1RHE3rQ/s320/IMG_4673.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645275425586509394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rKzLG9LzarA/TlgMFAhYX3I/AAAAAAAAAOo/7UvLqsaXQHQ/s1600/IMG_4663.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rKzLG9LzarA/TlgMFAhYX3I/AAAAAAAAAOo/7UvLqsaXQHQ/s320/IMG_4663.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645275413087805298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Hello &lt;i&gt;Veranda&lt;/i&gt;, I enjoyed sitting on your cover page. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UbC2lUPGmD4/TlgLTbEjrPI/AAAAAAAAAOg/CfRt1jQHmMM/s1600/IMG_4651.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UbC2lUPGmD4/TlgLTbEjrPI/AAAAAAAAAOg/CfRt1jQHmMM/s320/IMG_4651.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645274561221209330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OaQnvFK68Cw/TlgLSPCgSqI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/0vFCBNyY_14/s1600/IMG_4619.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OaQnvFK68Cw/TlgLSPCgSqI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/0vFCBNyY_14/s320/IMG_4619.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645274540811504290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The children, enjoying snacks from their buddy...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5NSDBU0pEkI/TlgLRqYQBhI/AAAAAAAAAOI/JBkt4Isl2-w/s1600/IMG_4604.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5NSDBU0pEkI/TlgLRqYQBhI/AAAAAAAAAOI/JBkt4Isl2-w/s320/IMG_4604.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645274530970600978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;When we arrived we were greeted in our room with a lovely bouquet of homegrown flowers, some delicious chocolates and treats for the kiddos from some dear friends of ours.....I felt like I was in a movie. Actually, at one point AB said to me, "Momma, is someone watching us on their television? Because, I feel like we are a movie..." It was a really magical. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MSmSog3wz3Y/TlgNQlqeeWI/AAAAAAAAAPg/tP04NUBs1ts/s1600/IMG_4702.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MSmSog3wz3Y/TlgNQlqeeWI/AAAAAAAAAPg/tP04NUBs1ts/s320/IMG_4702.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645276711548254562" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This wine was delicious. Paul picked it up from one of our favorite, quirky wine stores here in STL. It was a real winner.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-idyQpvaG4rE/TlgNQMYznII/AAAAAAAAAPY/pSf3Kj-YjyI/s1600/IMG_4700.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-idyQpvaG4rE/TlgNQMYznII/AAAAAAAAAPY/pSf3Kj-YjyI/s320/IMG_4700.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645276704763255938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uG3G0fAUR6M/TlgNPf5IBnI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/wpTdNHtEoXs/s1600/IMG_4695.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uG3G0fAUR6M/TlgNPf5IBnI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/wpTdNHtEoXs/s320/IMG_4695.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645276692819215986" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 182px; " /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Our monkeys...enjoying their "private" tub. We booked a double suite. We ain't rookies. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Ten years. 1,000,000 hours of studying logged. 100 hours of Battlestar Galactica. 32 hours of labor and childbirth. 1,000,000 hours of nursing. An embarrassing amount of Charles Shaw. I'm enviable and I know it. My life is richer than I deserve. "&lt;i&gt;So say we all." &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ_HtfxhjY0/TlgNO7Z8oKI/AAAAAAAAAPI/2tC-FIJNRh8/s1600/IMG_4688.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ_HtfxhjY0/TlgNO7Z8oKI/AAAAAAAAAPI/2tC-FIJNRh8/s1600/IMG_4688.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-2476000727902455321?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2476000727902455321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2011/08/family-moon-2011-its-been-awhile-since.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2476000727902455321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2476000727902455321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2011/08/family-moon-2011-its-been-awhile-since.html' title='Family Moon 2011'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_-lzJJ7ygAA/TlgLSyQEvDI/AAAAAAAAAOY/982coRgk1B4/s72-c/IMG_4626.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-1724633619937875297</id><published>2010-04-07T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T13:37:17.634-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It Was a Great Day for a Birthday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style=""&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=";color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7zfrjYkZMI/AAAAAAAAAJI/dIqtQlF016Q/s320/IMG_1110.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457482787791856834" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7zfrjYkZMI/AAAAAAAAAJI/dIqtQlF016Q/s1600/IMG_1110.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When I have said my evening prayer,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And my clothes are folded on the chair,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And mother switches off the light,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'll still be three years old tonight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But, from the very break of day,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Before the children rise and play,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Before the greenness turns to gold,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tomorrow, I'll be four years old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Four kisses when I wake,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Four candles on my cake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;                                                M. Meyerkort&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7znnKvtvWI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/p91iD1qhDhQ/s320/IMG_1112.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457491508551597410" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Now, this was a great birthday...it was the first birthday where Ava Belle actually got it...none of it manufactured by myself...it was pure excitement from the moment her eyes opened and she jumped out of bed to show me how she'd grown over night, to the moment her head hit the pillow that evening and she asked if she would &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; be four in the morning and if that meant it would &lt;i&gt;still &lt;/i&gt;be&lt;i&gt; &lt;/i&gt;her birthday. It wasn't all about gifts, it wasn't all about 'me-firsts' (even though there was certainly a bit of both), it was simply all about celebrating her young and happy life. Her teacher did an exceptional job of helping us set the tone for her birthday....I stayed with her at school while a dear friend kept Emmett, and I think that was gift enough to each of us! We have very little time together without the company of her younger brother (not that I'm complaining - my 20 mo old is delightful, but, let me repeat...he is a 20 mo old boy) it was just really sweet to have an opportunity to soak each other up without much distraction. A special day for my special little girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7znnqY20HI/AAAAAAAAAKA/s5Ld7o9jxSI/s320/IMG_1107.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457491517045657714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ava Belle requested Strawberry Cupcakes for her birthday party at school.....they were pretty yummy....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7znnx1nN5I/AAAAAAAAAKI/jSzgaDOHnUw/s320/IMG_1118.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457491519045318546" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;...but, a busy birthday meant there wasn't time to make a second cake for that evening...thank goodness Daddy saved the day with a store bought cake....my puritanical self gave in.......&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7znoYJKLqI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/-Z_LZURdUpA/s320/IMG_1119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457491529327849122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;...as you can see, she didn't care that it wasn't homemade...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;she was so thrilled about the birthday song and &lt;i&gt;all &lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;those candles&lt;/i&gt;....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#0000EE;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7zno1OPnXI/AAAAAAAAAKY/VnzoQNiXago/s320/IMG_1121.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457491537133804914" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&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/6046900150362286125-1724633619937875297?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1724633619937875297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-was-great-day-for-birthday.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/1724633619937875297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/1724633619937875297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/04/it-was-great-day-for-birthday.html' title='It Was a Great Day for a Birthday...'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7zfrjYkZMI/AAAAAAAAAJI/dIqtQlF016Q/s72-c/IMG_1110.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-5859627810270999254</id><published>2010-04-03T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T13:16:18.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d88o0tH-I/AAAAAAAAAJA/WG2LwJCo4a4/s1600/IMG_0852.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d88o0tH-I/AAAAAAAAAJA/WG2LwJCo4a4/s320/IMG_0852.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455966854775119842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been some time since my last post, and we have certainly been enjoying our fair share of adventures. We spent the entire month of February living in Washington, D.C. so that Paul could attend a series of lectures at Walter Reed hospital, basically a board prep course that all radiology residents take at this point in their training and it's always in D.C. My brother happens to live there too, so, it was GREAT fun visiting with him and his lovely girlfriend. We lived in McLean, VA in a house with our dear friends (who are, YES, &lt;i&gt;still&lt;/i&gt; our dear friends after one month of living with our crazy family and nearly 50" of snow!) It has been a full end to winter and we are ready for spring. Already we have enjoyed a week of warm weather and are welcoming the spring with thoughts of our garden-to-be, Ava Belle's birthday, etc! I apologize that the pics are a little out of order....enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d20N_zIBI/AAAAAAAAAI4/LwTZ1E2q4vg/s1600/IMG_0990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d20N_zIBI/AAAAAAAAAI4/LwTZ1E2q4vg/s320/IMG_0990.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455960113065173010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My sister and I on my birthday...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2zWKavTI/AAAAAAAAAIw/wjP7p6Gm3hI/s1600/IMG_0997.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2zWKavTI/AAAAAAAAAIw/wjP7p6Gm3hI/s320/IMG_0997.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455960098077326642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Always love it when my parents come to town! It's always full of laughter, food, wine and as my Dad says, "low quality time." For my birthday they gave me an amazing gift...a DYSON vacuum cleaner! Truly, it deserves a post of its own...after getting it I spent roughly 4 hours cleaning my house....I took a picture of all the dirt we were living in. Wow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2ygT_PfI/AAAAAAAAAIo/IsTnvmbclwA/s1600/IMG_0924.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2ygT_PfI/AAAAAAAAAIo/IsTnvmbclwA/s320/IMG_0924.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455960083621953010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;My sister, Alex, and I took the kids to the gardens one morning....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2yI-RiMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/HJLYddNpgU0/s1600/IMG_0918.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2yI-RiMI/AAAAAAAAAIg/HJLYddNpgU0/s320/IMG_0918.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455960077356861634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Alex has decided to become an Auburn Tiger! We are so excited, truly, I've never had more school spirit! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2xiRFVyI/AAAAAAAAAIY/C9D1mkTbSmY/s1600/IMG_0884.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d2xiRFVyI/AAAAAAAAAIY/C9D1mkTbSmY/s320/IMG_0884.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455960066966771490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dnA6vOXGI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Hp09ARqKFAs/s1600/IMG_0762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dnA6vOXGI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Hp09ARqKFAs/s320/IMG_0762.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455942739047636066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Monkey business in DC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dnAdu1l5I/AAAAAAAAAII/6Z8GkH7puiA/s1600/IMG_0826.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dnAdu1l5I/AAAAAAAAAII/6Z8GkH7puiA/s320/IMG_0826.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455942731261384594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Emmett, an enthusiastic tourist....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dm_nUn2sI/AAAAAAAAAIA/1rH2_QL26_M/s1600/IMG_0754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dm_nUn2sI/AAAAAAAAAIA/1rH2_QL26_M/s320/IMG_0754.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455942716655917762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;More monkey business, Super Hero style....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dm-h2TafI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Q3_iZ0xm4m8/s1600/IMG_0700.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dm-h2TafI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Q3_iZ0xm4m8/s320/IMG_0700.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455942698006702578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We had a crab boil at my brother's place, AB was really into the tools...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dm94VqBlI/AAAAAAAAAHw/veJjZAV_UTA/s1600/IMG_0695.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dm94VqBlI/AAAAAAAAAHw/veJjZAV_UTA/s320/IMG_0695.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455942686863918674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhaIfEU7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/em7bWbVy3mg/s1600/IMG_0642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhaIfEU7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/em7bWbVy3mg/s320/IMG_0642.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455936575164928946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Enjoying some 'low quality' music along with our 'low quality time'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhYh2gA9I/AAAAAAAAAHg/lPqpftnHYjY/s1600/IMG_0628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhYh2gA9I/AAAAAAAAAHg/lPqpftnHYjY/s320/IMG_0628.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455936547614360530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhX3ukCgI/AAAAAAAAAHY/UJhMPnmoSxQ/s1600/IMG_0624.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhX3ukCgI/AAAAAAAAAHY/UJhMPnmoSxQ/s320/IMG_0624.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455936536306780674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhXGFDhFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/241sNGFvkBI/s1600/IMG_0609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhXGFDhFI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/241sNGFvkBI/s320/IMG_0609.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455936522979345490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhWYjJCEI/AAAAAAAAAHI/OBHJqHX3fDM/s1600/IMG_0592.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dhWYjJCEI/AAAAAAAAAHI/OBHJqHX3fDM/s320/IMG_0592.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455936510757505090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Fantastic Doll house in the American History Museum...complete with an attic full of furniture, tiny record players, etc....AB was mesmerized!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVNZRuTYI/AAAAAAAAAHA/oAxFDuWrmfo/s1600/IMG_0591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVNZRuTYI/AAAAAAAAAHA/oAxFDuWrmfo/s320/IMG_0591.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455923162194529666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Of course, we had to get a picture of AB with her 'sparklies' alongside the original pair! Ruby slippers meet ruby slippers...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVMBp3tdI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ESQBeMackVA/s1600/IMG_0587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVMBp3tdI/AAAAAAAAAG4/ESQBeMackVA/s320/IMG_0587.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455923138673489362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Quadrilla! Note to Grandparents: &lt;i&gt;This would be a great gift!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVLsIsHtI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rltaxXpbNuA/s1600/IMG_0478.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVLsIsHtI/AAAAAAAAAGw/rltaxXpbNuA/s320/IMG_0478.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455923132897173202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Bowling! An absolute highlight of the trip!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVKk0Ig0I/AAAAAAAAAGo/U_FsRBwfau0/s1600/IMG_0474.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dVKk0Ig0I/AAAAAAAAAGo/U_FsRBwfau0/s320/IMG_0474.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455923113752036162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSaD5fxdI/AAAAAAAAAF4/TK8mYfTIstg/s1600/IMG_0453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSaD5fxdI/AAAAAAAAAF4/TK8mYfTIstg/s320/IMG_0453.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455920081259185618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;We visited some friends of the Mettenburgs who lived outside of Charlottesville, VA...the children loved getting to play in the barn area...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSZsMaRWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ptqbUbLoXHE/s1600/IMG_0446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSZsMaRWI/AAAAAAAAAFw/ptqbUbLoXHE/s320/IMG_0446.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455920074896065890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSY8UNNBI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ZDW0eoGgMqs/s1600/IMG_0399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSY8UNNBI/AAAAAAAAAFo/ZDW0eoGgMqs/s320/IMG_0399.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455920062043862034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Lastest fashions available at Eastern Market...the vendor insisted I take a careful look at myself....pretty sure I look even more like a cocker spaniel than I already do...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSYEv50wI/AAAAAAAAAFg/vm-2_bLqPjo/s1600/IMG_0338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSYEv50wI/AAAAAAAAAFg/vm-2_bLqPjo/s320/IMG_0338.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455920047127646978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSXXvY_6I/AAAAAAAAAFY/tyvygilq5Hs/s1600/IMG_0271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7dSXXvY_6I/AAAAAAAAAFY/tyvygilq5Hs/s320/IMG_0271.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455920035045900194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;And, the 50" of snow that became our playground....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-5859627810270999254?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5859627810270999254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/04/catching-up.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/5859627810270999254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/5859627810270999254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/04/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S7d88o0tH-I/AAAAAAAAAJA/WG2LwJCo4a4/s72-c/IMG_0852.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-9088742562143730898</id><published>2010-01-19T20:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T21:02:34.229-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Cyanoacrylate</title><content type='html'>Super glue. Top glue. Glue your finger to ear glue. The stuff is magic for lots of reasons, but my favorite use (by far) is for repairing my poor fingers. Cold weather + heated home + day job as short-order chef = all these tiny cracks (or fissures) on my fingers. Tons of little tiny paper cuts that can hurt so badly I wake in the night with throbbing hands. Okay, you get my point. But, this stuff is amazing and here is how it works. I learned this trick from my Dad, who has been successfully gluing his fingers back together for years:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) Wash and dry hands well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) Apply a small amount of super glue (purchased from any drug store or local hardware store) directly onto the sore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) Allow time to dry before attempting to resume daily activities. (i.e., caring for children, putting on gloves, etc.)*&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) Your sore will begin healing from the inside out and the discomfort just disappears. Brilliant!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*This is an important step. The other day as I was gluing four spots back together on one finger I rushed the process a bit and began making myself a cup of coffee. I inadvertently glued freshly ground espresso beans to my index finger. I wasn't able to remove them for a day, or so. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Super glue is also great for gluing those highly fashionable (yet, very choke-able and lose-able) barbie shoes onto Barbie's feet. Sorry this post doesn't include any pictures, purely informational. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-9088742562143730898?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/9088742562143730898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/01/ode-to-cyanoacrylate.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/9088742562143730898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/9088742562143730898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/01/ode-to-cyanoacrylate.html' title='Ode to Cyanoacrylate'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-1898135744542388486</id><published>2010-01-11T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-11T18:40:35.894-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hop On Pop</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When Paul gets home from night float, this is what happens. For as long as he can manage it......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0vgJy-UvwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/5v9pgoGgOqA/s320/IMG_0190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425676635004518146" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0vgKU8FhGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/5ZXP714O5gM/s1600-h/IMG_0191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0vgKU8FhGI/AAAAAAAAAFM/5ZXP714O5gM/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425676644121936994" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He's such a good Daddy. We sure do miss him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-1898135744542388486?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1898135744542388486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/01/hop-on-pop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/1898135744542388486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/1898135744542388486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/01/hop-on-pop.html' title='Hop On Pop'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0vgJy-UvwI/AAAAAAAAAFE/5v9pgoGgOqA/s72-c/IMG_0190.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-2656407046040417844</id><published>2010-01-09T17:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T21:31:44.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k798XLVWI/AAAAAAAAAE8/qy2RgVjSoP0/s1600-h/IMG_0112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k798XLVWI/AAAAAAAAAE8/qy2RgVjSoP0/s320/IMG_0112.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424933161505871202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;AB gently posing for a picture with her brother and cousin, Ann Edwards.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6vgnV4-I/AAAAAAAAAE0/_GQfNaijegc/s1600-h/IMG_0111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6vgnV4-I/AAAAAAAAAE0/_GQfNaijegc/s320/IMG_0111.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424931814027682786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6vJpWVRI/AAAAAAAAAEs/ciUtsmex3fw/s1600-h/IMG_9922.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6vJpWVRI/AAAAAAAAAEs/ciUtsmex3fw/s320/IMG_9922.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424931807862084882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;Ava Belle, 3.5 yrs old&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6urW4-JI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6gwKGScLi_k/s1600-h/IMG_0061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6urW4-JI/AAAAAAAAAEk/6gwKGScLi_k/s320/IMG_0061.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424931799731599506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Emmett, 17 mos&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6uLl7FkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/L4Xk9cuwpLo/s1600-h/IMG_0156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6uLl7FkI/AAAAAAAAAEc/L4Xk9cuwpLo/s320/IMG_0156.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424931791204718146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:small;"&gt;With any luck they'll have some of their Pap's musical talent. Or, at least they'll have some of his instruments. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6t7NFv_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/U_jxooj1T3k/s1600-h/IMG_0177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k6t7NFv_I/AAAAAAAAAEU/U_jxooj1T3k/s320/IMG_0177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424931786805592050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;My Mom knitted those precious matching sweaters...my Dad made the concertina...Paul and I made the kids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I do realize that the last time I posted anything was during night float, back in June. Well, it's night float again and apparently it's the only time I have opportunity to post. This is Paul's last night float EVER! So, this may be my last post. Only kidding, I think. Anyway, it's been really cold here in Saint Louis. The low today was zero. Snow on the ground. Blistering winds. I find this sort of weather situation rather debilitating. Having lived in STL more than three years now, I am more capable of facing the cold than I once was, but there is nothing like facing the cold with two small children in tow.  For instance, multiple layers. Easily takes us three times as long to get ready to leave the house with the sweaters, coats, hats, mittens, snow boots, etc. Yet, I'm considering the use of extra clothing in non-winter months as a general safety measure....it physically slows them down and opportunity for a 'prison break' becomes less likely. Actually, Ava Belle has been enjoying her new snow bib so much that she wears it all the time. All day at home, all day at school, you get the picture. If there is a chill in the air she insists upon wearing them.  So, today we went to the mall to get a cookie. It was zero outside, forgive me. She picked out a lovely cookie iced with bright yellow and chocolate frosting, a lovely complement to her outfit. Anyway, we were walking through the mall and she said she needed to go potty....we finally got to the restroom and we began peeling layers off of her. I even brought an extra bag just to hold all of our winter accessories. When she was finished she came out and said, "Mommy, my clothes are wet." How did this happen? Well, she explained that maybe Emmett did it. This, by the way, is her current explanation for most situations where she feels her reputation, precious 3.5 yr old autonomy, or TV time might be in jeopardy. It was an accident. I didn't pull her clothes down enough and the rest is history. Luckily her short dress was spared and she was able to waltz around the mall (until we found some new panties) sporting her little dress, bare legs and bottom and her gigantic snow boots. She was delighted with herself. It was a cold walk to the car for her, but she managed...and so did I. Hope all is well with you all (if anyone even reads this thing). Happy New Year to you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-2656407046040417844?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2656407046040417844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/01/ab-gently-posing-for-picture-with-her.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2656407046040417844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2656407046040417844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2010/01/ab-gently-posing-for-picture-with-her.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/S0k798XLVWI/AAAAAAAAAE8/qy2RgVjSoP0/s72-c/IMG_0112.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-5458427295077586712</id><published>2009-06-21T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T19:16:24.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Down, One To Go....</title><content type='html'>Night Float. You know, I have always considered myself fairly tough, but, I'm quickly being humbled by Paul's current rotation. He works nights, and it's been rough. And, it's only been a week. Last time Paul was working this rotation we just up and left, went to Birmingham and stayed with family. This time we decided that two weeks was too long to be apart so, the children and I are staying here and just working through it. Starting out, we've had a few strikes against us that has made the first week particularly....intense. A) Coxsackie virus. We both got home from vacation with headaches and fever. You know, the kind of headache that hurts to blink, extreme brightness and loud noises exacerbate the pain? Two kids with lots of energy, summertime in Saint Louis and husband-less days and nights meant that I was living on Advil, gatorade and the grace of God. B) Sink explosion. Our kitchen sink has always been a bit sensitive. Combine that with poor water pressure, an excessive amount of homegrown lettuces and the handy-work of one very skilled radiology resident, you'll get a plumber that stays so long your daughter will ask if he's joining us for dinner. C) We welcomed our newest neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Copperhead. Apparently, the grass in our backyard was approaching amazon status when we found that a family of copperhead snakes had moved in. I was able to find a nice gentleman (from Trussville, AL!!, no doubt) to come and mow our yard for us. I told Paul it was part of his father's day gift, he didn't have to mow the lawn and he gets to continue being a father to our children who should now be safe from the snakes (not that we've played in the backyard since.) So, it's been an adventurous week and we've got one more to go. I feel exhausted from long days and long nights even though I do have two of the most precious souls on earth to spend them with. Speaking of which, I took Ariel and Flounder to the pool by myself for the first time this week. I've been very nervous about how it might be going to the pool with two kids on my own, although you wouldn't have known it considering how prepared we were. We got there and I realized all the water accessories I'd brought were swimsuits and a Barbie. We managed to have a great time despite my poor planning and spent the afternoon cooling off in the water, playing and laughing. Both the children went to bed early so, I'm planning on springing for the pool pass and a couple of floaties. Anyway, we are hanging in there, a little tired, a little lonely, but okay.  I'm most thankful for our dear friends here who we've been able to hang out with, and of course I have my buddies Ben &amp;amp; Jerry to keep me company in the evenings. I will say that Paul definitely has the rough end of things, they stay very, very busy on this rotation. The other night it took him nearly three hours to finish a measly turkey sandwich. In my line of work, if I couldn't talk with my mouth full I'd have absolutely no conversations and it'd be amazing what my three year old would be able to get away with. We'll report on the next week, and I'll try to drum up some pics to go with. Until then....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-5458427295077586712?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/5458427295077586712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-down-one-to-go.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/5458427295077586712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/5458427295077586712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-down-one-to-go.html' title='One Down, One To Go....'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-8108519767318246006</id><published>2009-06-19T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T17:25:16.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjwsXEQDB2I/AAAAAAAAADk/yniGEXQP-tY/s1600-h/IMG_9196.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjwsXEQDB2I/AAAAAAAAADk/yniGEXQP-tY/s320/IMG_9196.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349199232198969186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are back! After a wonderful vacation with all our family we are back home in STL. Happy to see our dear friends, our home (that feels like rather 'tight quarters' after being at the spacious lakehouse...at any minute I'm expecting the seven dwarfs) and our garden that looks strikingly similar to Miss Havisham's grounds.  It's been a tough landing back into reality, Paul is working nights so we are trying to figure out how best to manage without really seeing much of each other for two weeks, Ava Belle has digressed a bit on the potty-front (something to do with wearing a swimsuit all day and spending most of the time in the water....hmmm), but, it's nice to be home. As many of you already know, my sister-in-law's husband became very sick and spent some time in the CCU during our vacation, he is home now and resting. The virus made it's way through most of the lake house visitors, but we've since recovered and are praying that Rainer's heart regains it's strength with each day. I would ask, if you are so inclined, for you to join us in prayer for his recovery.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've picked a few of my favorite pics from the week....I think most of them are already up on my sister-in-law's, Laurie Ann, blog, but here they are as an encore....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu9Zp-wII/AAAAAAAAADU/qf1p7qpXrsc/s1600-h/IMG_9188.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu9Zp-wII/AAAAAAAAADU/qf1p7qpXrsc/s320/IMG_9188.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349131721058992258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happy Ava Belle, the lake trip treated her well (minus the coxsackie virus, of course).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu9BVlt0I/AAAAAAAAADM/finhcJi9OEo/s1600-h/IMG_9152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu9BVlt0I/AAAAAAAAADM/finhcJi9OEo/s320/IMG_9152.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349131714531014466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyu (my mother) and Emmett....light was just perfect that afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu81FnZ3I/AAAAAAAAADE/AYJRO5xmnD0/s1600-h/IMG_9114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu81FnZ3I/AAAAAAAAADE/AYJRO5xmnD0/s320/IMG_9114.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349131711242790770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tedrow family band....the Lake Martin Burger Boat really wanted to book us for the weekend at Chimney Rock, but, we just didn't have time. Maybe next year...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu8V6Ty0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/A54h4ZzUQZg/s1600-h/IMG_9096.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu8V6Ty0I/AAAAAAAAAC8/A54h4ZzUQZg/s320/IMG_9096.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349131702873869122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love this pic, even though our niece, Ann Edwards, is a little unhappy, it just makes me smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu8Ieb8VI/AAAAAAAAAC0/TPNVgR5162M/s1600-h/IMG_9086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sjvu8Ieb8VI/AAAAAAAAAC0/TPNVgR5162M/s320/IMG_9086.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349131699267301714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cinderella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzJS_4DhI/AAAAAAAAACs/MeCn_IJOmPw/s1600-h/IMG_9079.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzJS_4DhI/AAAAAAAAACs/MeCn_IJOmPw/s320/IMG_9079.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349065954732543506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;AB riding with Paul's parents (Minnie and T) around the cove in the little boat....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzI_ZF_eI/AAAAAAAAACk/IedBv8598HM/s1600-h/IMG_9055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzI_ZF_eI/AAAAAAAAACk/IedBv8598HM/s320/IMG_9055.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349065949469605346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mermaid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzIlwvsTI/AAAAAAAAACc/w7ZUgy6euoI/s1600-h/IMG_9035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzIlwvsTI/AAAAAAAAACc/w7ZUgy6euoI/s320/IMG_9035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349065942589485362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ping Pong Players.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzIBZZ8lI/AAAAAAAAACU/GXnz7L3Hbuw/s1600-h/IMG_8879.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzIBZZ8lI/AAAAAAAAACU/GXnz7L3Hbuw/s320/IMG_8879.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349065932827914834" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;AB fishing with Daddy...a little concerned about the distance between she and the fish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzH7VY1mI/AAAAAAAAACM/NrHdih7oo7c/s1600-h/IMG_8871.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjuzH7VY1mI/AAAAAAAAACM/NrHdih7oo7c/s320/IMG_8871.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349065931200452194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Happiest little fella. Ever.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-8108519767318246006?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8108519767318246006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-are-back-after-wonderful-vacation.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/8108519767318246006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/8108519767318246006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-are-back-after-wonderful-vacation.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SjwsXEQDB2I/AAAAAAAAADk/yniGEXQP-tY/s72-c/IMG_9196.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-8448880277468581371</id><published>2009-05-25T08:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T09:29:26.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Pink Potty</title><content type='html'>Ava Belle is officially potty trained. Hallelujah. It really wasn't so bad, actually, we just waited until she turned three and then told her that the diapers were for Emmett. She did 'mark her territory' across the better part of Saint Louis but, hey, urine is sterile, right? Well, that brings me to the real reason for this post. Urine, apparently, can be many things. Mainly, it's waste. But, it can also double as plant killer. Let me explain. We have a two story house with a finished basement, bathroom upstairs, bathroom downstairs, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;niente&lt;/span&gt; on the main floor. So, I purchased a very small, very discreet pink potty to pull out in those emergent moments when we couldn't make it to one of the other bathrooms. Quickly, it became routine to just carry the pink potty around with us from room to room on the main floor. For some reason, I found it a little tiring to run up/downstairs to have AB empty her bladder or for me to empty the potty each time she went (very frequently in the beginning) so, I began to open the front door and toss the tee-tee outside, just to the right of the door behind a large bush.  Please take note: I adhered to a very different regimen for discarding poop. This went on for......awhile. So, the other day as I was locking up I noticed the bush had all these dead leaves in one isolated area. It looked as if someone had sprayed it with acid. Hmmmm. I thought for just a moment. Then, I decided that we needed to say goodbye to the pink potty. For the most part, AB has had no problem making it to the up or downstairs potty in time. However, sometimes she's a little too busy playing and I'm just hoping that the finish on our floor is slightly more sturdy than the bush by the door. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-8448880277468581371?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/8448880277468581371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/05/goodbye-pink-potty.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/8448880277468581371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/8448880277468581371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/05/goodbye-pink-potty.html' title='Goodbye Pink Potty'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-1230373793736883211</id><published>2009-05-13T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T16:27:24.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where the Wild Things Are....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SgtNrVaucII/AAAAAAAAACE/1GE1ykshM9Y/s1600-h/IMG_8698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SgtNrVaucII/AAAAAAAAACE/1GE1ykshM9Y/s320/IMG_8698.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335443590429438082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SgtNrPBZ26I/AAAAAAAAAB8/rL11ActgYjs/s1600-h/IMG_8673.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SgtNrPBZ26I/AAAAAAAAAB8/rL11ActgYjs/s320/IMG_8673.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335443588712618914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Little BraveHeart. AB painted his face for him. He didn't mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Well, they are here. In my house. In my bed. They are with me when I take a shower, actually, they are with me every time I go into the bathroom. You get the point. They are wild things. And, I am their Mommy which means that I have the potential to be the wildest of them all. This afternoon, following a rare fit of cleaning, Ava Belle walks downstairs and says, "Mommy, why does it smell like wild things in this house?" Hmmm. I wonder. This coming from a three year old who is wearing nothing but a pair of Elmo panties, backwards, and has a bright red tummy. Apparently, the baby in her belly told her to color it with a red marker.  I think it's time for good ole Daddy to come home and bring a little equilibrium back to the 'lair.'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-1230373793736883211?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/1230373793736883211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-wild-things-are.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/1230373793736883211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/1230373793736883211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/05/where-wild-things-are.html' title='Where the Wild Things Are....'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SgtNrVaucII/AAAAAAAAACE/1GE1ykshM9Y/s72-c/IMG_8698.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-4933189338520419465</id><published>2009-05-11T08:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T10:30:31.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We went to church on Mother's Day morning and, as has become ritual, we entered and had our quick family conference. &lt;div&gt;Emily: I'll take Emmett, diaper bag, sling and find seats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Paul: I'll take Ava Belle to the nursery.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ava Belle: I want Mommy to take me, no, Daddy to take me. No, Emmett to take me. (We settle on Daddy.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, we all split up. I find seats and sit with Emmett through a few songs, maybe one reading, and then he's had about enough. Or, should I say, I'm assuming the people sitting just by us have had enough. So, I do the 'excuse me please,' 'oops, pardon us,' and try and keep Emmett's sweet sticky hands from grabbing anyone's hair as we make our way out of the aisle and head to the "Room with a View," a special little room where mothers with babies who need a break from the service (for a variety of reasons) can come and sit and still enjoy through a large window and a speaker. By this time, Paul is just coming back down from dropping AB off at the nursery and that is pretty much how each Sunday goes. So, this week was Mother's Day and as I sat in the little room with all these other mothers I decided there wasn't a better place to spend Mother's Day morning at church. I must admit, most of the time in there is like a little party and, on occasion, we have even turned down the speaker because it was interrupting our conversations. We just chat and catch up, talk about potty training, talk about the latest and greatest teething toys, the marvelous advances made in cloth diapers and over these conversations we eventually open to eachother and share. We share lots of things. We laugh, get teary-eyed, offer wipes to one another. It's very special and I look forward to it every week. Then, when we see everyone circling around for communion we tuck our shirts and 'selves' back into place, see that our babies are stuffed snug in their slings, and partake in communion. I love Sunday mornings at church, and it was a great way to spend Mother's Day morning. So, to you ladies out there who I get to hang out with on Sundays, thank you for the extra hands when changing an unbelievably poopie diaper, thank you for encouraging me with your birth stories and listening to mine, thank you for not minding too much when my big boy pulls your little girls hair, thank you for the diaper tips and for the commiseration over lack of sleep. I am truly moved by your openness and delighted by your company. I thank you and Happy Mother's Day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-4933189338520419465?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4933189338520419465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-went-to-church-on-mothers-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/4933189338520419465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/4933189338520419465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/05/we-went-to-church-on-mothers-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-4686539492312523973</id><published>2009-04-17T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-18T05:47:20.364-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Listen to the Mustn'ts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Seiz2L_DihI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5AzOx8BMYVU/s1600-h/IMG_8604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Seiz2L_DihI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5AzOx8BMYVU/s320/IMG_8604.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325704302877182482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child&lt;div&gt;Listen to the DON'TS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listen to the SHOULDN'TS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON'TS&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Listen to the NEVER HAVES&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then listen close to me--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anything can happen, child,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;ANYTHING can be.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;      &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shel Silverstein &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;      Where the Sidewalk Ends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gee. I really love my kids. I hope I don't mess them up too much. This poem makes cry. I pray that my children always know how dearly and whole-heartedly they are loved and that I believe in them. I think that is the key to parenting. I know my parents love me and are proud of me (at least last time I checked) and that has, I'm pretty sure, made me a better mother, a better wife, a better friend. Good parenting goes a really long way, and bad parenting probably goes even further. I'll be sure to let you know, I teeter between the two on a daily basis. I guess we probably all dip into both sides at some point along the parenting journey. I do know this, though, I am blessed beyond what I deserve. Thanks be to God for His Grace, no?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-4686539492312523973?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/4686539492312523973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/04/listen-to-mustnts.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/4686539492312523973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/4686539492312523973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/04/listen-to-mustnts.html' title='Listen to the Mustn&apos;ts'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Seiz2L_DihI/AAAAAAAAAB0/5AzOx8BMYVU/s72-c/IMG_8604.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-6139004176972783322</id><published>2009-04-10T19:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T05:53:00.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Still Around</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SeAOJPNHPxI/AAAAAAAAABs/9a6p98CLap4/s1600-h/Emmett+outside.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SeAOJPNHPxI/AAAAAAAAABs/9a6p98CLap4/s320/Emmett+outside.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323270311415070482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SeAOIy2tEJI/AAAAAAAAABk/KI943KXag3w/s1600-h/AB+outside.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SeAOIy2tEJI/AAAAAAAAABk/KI943KXag3w/s320/AB+outside.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323270303804887186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it's been awhile since I've posted anything. I think it must have something to do with the fact that sometime between my last post and today, all hell has broken loose on several different occasions. We've had all kinds of sicknesses, Paul's been on a rotation that doesn't leave much time for family, I turned 30, Ava Belle turned 3, and Miss Meriweather continues to tease us with a day in the 70s and the next day brings snow. On the bright side, Emmett is totally precious and is now crawling and says, "Ma.....Ma!" His smile is unbelievably contagious and he continues to live up to his nickname, 'creamcheese.' Ava Belle is an absolute mess, but, a great source of entertainment (especially, it seems, for Emmett). The other day I looked in her purse that she often carries. In it I found two things: a small hand-held mirror and a little water gun. Yikes. Paul has only six more days of this rotation so, I should be getting my husband back soon. And, I read one of the most lovely books of all time, Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. It's about a lot of things, but has most profoundly impacted my thoughts regarding my current 'job.' I'm making the beds everyday now. For those of you that know me, this is a pretty big deal. This weekend is Easter and we are celebrating with some of our dear friends....a little egg decorating, some lavender cupcakes and a very, very intimidating lamb shoulder. I'll have to post pictures of our upcoming celebrations later next week. Anyway, this post is just to say that we are still around. Hope all is well and Happy, Happy Easter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-6139004176972783322?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/6139004176972783322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/04/still-around.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/6139004176972783322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/6139004176972783322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/04/still-around.html' title='Still Around'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SeAOJPNHPxI/AAAAAAAAABs/9a6p98CLap4/s72-c/Emmett+outside.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-2974771721955507511</id><published>2009-01-16T07:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T09:44:27.247-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just a Spoonful of Sugar</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SXDG5p_mVTI/AAAAAAAAABc/SKW2J2w4DI8/s1600-h/IMG_8239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SXDG5p_mVTI/AAAAAAAAABc/SKW2J2w4DI8/s320/IMG_8239.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291948255987782962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to take a few moments to offer a brief listing of some things that are &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;NOT &lt;/span&gt;childproof. Things that you should &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Keep out of the reach of children."&lt;/span&gt; Some of these items may, or may not, be obvious to you. So, if you will, be courteous to my ignorance. It can be a steep learning curve.&lt;div&gt;A) Lipstick - Could be mistaken as a crayon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;B) Sunscreen bottle - Could be mistaken as a hammer to smash out a glass window.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;C) Pink Medicine in Childproof Bottle - Could be mistaken as delicious fruit punch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm only going to address "c" here, the others (though messy) were certainly less traumatic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Earlier this week, we took Emmett (5 mos) to the doctor because he just wasn't acting like his happy little 'creamcheese' self. The doctor found that he had ear infections in both ears and a swollen throat. He was definitely uncomfortable. We got a prescription for some amoxicillin and we were on our way. When we got home I pulled out the bottle of medicine and prepared Emmett's appropriate dosage. Ava Belle (my trusty assistant) took one look at that pink medicine and her eyes widened and she said, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"That's the most beaufalul pink medicine I've ever seen." &lt;/span&gt;I knew what she was thinking too, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"I bet that's the kind of medicine that princesses drink." &lt;/span&gt;It was the perfect shade of pink. The perfect shade of Ava Belle bait. So, several days passed, medicine administered and then safely placed by the kitchen window. However, one morning after giving Emmett his medicine he was in a state. Very, very unhappy and I whisked him upstairs to rock him and nurse him away from my rather enthusiastic assistant. I wasn't gone a few minutes. But, when I came back downstairs all I saw was Ava Belle's pink mouth. She had pulled the medicine off the table, opened the 'childproof' top, and was sipping her way into a mild anafilactic reaction. It was the itchy eyes and swelling lips that initially concerned me (and the nurse I was consulting with over the phone) and then came the fever? Luckily, we had some children's benadryl tucked away with our dog's care kit. He is also allergic to penicillin. And the tylenol certainly helped with the fever. But, it was an odd reaction so we headed to the doctor and found that she also had strep throat. However, they were unable to get an accurate culture because Ava Belle had already treated herself. Smart or mischievous? So, after a trip to the ER, doctor, and rounds of antibiotics for all the short people in our house both Ava Belle and Emmett are in much higher spirits. I, on the other hand, I have been feeling rather sheepish about the whole thing. It just happened so quickly. Honestly, nothing is &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;safe when you have a 2.5 year old in your house. I guess the trip to the ER was punishment enough for me, oh, and the really short haircut I gave myself. (Actually, the latter may be a product of being trapped in the house with two sick kids in subzero weather.) Anyway, as we were giving the children their medicine before bed last night and again explaining to Ava Belle the rules surrounding medicine (and poison for that matter) she swallows it down, smiles and exclaims, &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Ahhh. Rrrrrrum Punch." &lt;/span&gt;Not sure if we are getting through to her but, we are gonna keep trying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-2974771721955507511?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2974771721955507511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-spoonful-of-sugar.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2974771721955507511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2974771721955507511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-spoonful-of-sugar.html' title='Just a Spoonful of Sugar'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SXDG5p_mVTI/AAAAAAAAABc/SKW2J2w4DI8/s72-c/IMG_8239.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-2927628785639746085</id><published>2009-01-07T09:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T14:24:32.995-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Responsibilities</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SWT4sA0RmKI/AAAAAAAAABU/WjQjPu_5Bm8/s1600-h/Everyone+Poops.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SWT4sA0RmKI/AAAAAAAAABU/WjQjPu_5Bm8/s320/Everyone+Poops.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288625297456994466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the other day Ava Belle comes up to me and says, "Hey, Momma? My diaper is pretty wet." I turn to her and, she is holding a very, very wet diaper in her hand. She had already removed it (and her shoes and her tights). She says, "I think I'll just put this in the trash can and go get a fresh one." I say, "don't forget the wipes!" Do you think it's time I potty train her? I mean, come on, if you can change your own diapers you can probably go tee-tee in the potty, or, so one would think. The thing is, I ask her if she'd like the Elmo panties she has, or the Tinkerbelle panties we just had to have at Target and she just says 'no thanks, I'll take the diaper.' I have purchased countless varieties of "potty chair surprises" (most of which I have eaten myself or used as bribery for other more pressing concerns) and still, no go. I know it's the responsibility, or possibly even the accountability, that she doesn't want to manage. And, that's actually the same issue I seem to be having with the whole potty training program too. Responsibility. I already have enough on my hands, is how I see it. Honestly, there are many times when I need to use the potty and I think, "my, I wish I had a diaper," because it's always when I'm juggling things like finding the right remote to play a movie for Ava Belle, nursing Emmett, trying to catch the oatmeal that's probably already overflowing on the stove while listening to the dog eat the rest of Ava Belle's pre-breakfast snack. Oh, I don't know. One day, I'm sure, Ava Belle will be able to juggle the responsibilities of her make-believe communities, frequent costume changes and otherwise general mischief all while making a little extra time for the potty. Somehow I seem to manage it, eventually we all do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-2927628785639746085?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/2927628785639746085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/responsibilities.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2927628785639746085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/2927628785639746085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/responsibilities.html' title='Responsibilities'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SWT4sA0RmKI/AAAAAAAAABU/WjQjPu_5Bm8/s72-c/Everyone+Poops.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-3491199824234846564</id><published>2009-01-02T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T13:19:40.792-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Genetics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DFXluxhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cSZfa2SeYU8/s1600-h/IMG_8177.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DFXluxhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cSZfa2SeYU8/s320/IMG_8177.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286807140834395666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DErwRjMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/UYpWWqELPAM/s320/IMG_8172.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286807129067457730" /&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DE74359I/AAAAAAAAAAk/7AyKgGUb4sc/s320/IMG_8166.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286807133398493138" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DEH3kDOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8jSBrNXJZmY/s1600-h/IMG_8154.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DEH3kDOI/AAAAAAAAAAU/8jSBrNXJZmY/s320/IMG_8154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286807119434353890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This all started around Halloween when Ava Belle, our 2.5 year old, accrued a gross amount of candy in one evening.  I thought, for sure, that she'd eat candy until she made herself sick but, all she really wanted to do was organize her loot, making little rows of like candy. Since then, Ava Belle has been organizing and re-organizing anything that has more than one unit. For example, each kleenex in an entire box of kleenex can be carefully laid out and accounted for, bows, toys, diapers etc. You name it, she can arrange it. And, these 'arrangements' can be found in almost every room of the house. Paul (my dear husband who, how do I say, has &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;strong&lt;/span&gt; tendencies towards organization and tidiness) is very proud of this burgeoning 'talent' we see in our daughter. I know what he is thinking, "She's got it! By golly, she's got it!" 'It' being the fairly dominant gene that seems to run in his side of the family, making very orderly folk. A mild victory for Paul. I am not at all knocking on this trait, I appreciate order, I marvel at it, but&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I&lt;/span&gt; just can't make it happen. Must be in the genes. Honestly, seeing this in our daughter does make me appreciate the hardwiring of people, namely my husband. I really don't think he can resist the temptation to clean and 'make nice.' Again, this is not a criticism. Paul is my very best friend in all the world, and I love him despite his crazy cleaning fits. And, I'm pretty sure he loves me through my miraculous messes and sometimes he even loves me for them. And, I'm proud that Ava Belle appreciates order. I'm glad she's like her Daddy. Thankful that she is like her Daddy. We'll see, maybe these funny things she does will help her to become a persevering scientist or even a meticulous cleaning lady someday. Whatever makes her happy. And, prayerfully, one day she'll be as lucky as her dear old Ma and Pa and find someone who will put up with, overcome and absolutely love her 'hardwiring.' &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-3491199824234846564?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3491199824234846564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/genetics.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/3491199824234846564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/3491199824234846564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/genetics.html' title='Genetics'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV6DFXluxhI/AAAAAAAAAAs/cSZfa2SeYU8/s72-c/IMG_8177.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6046900150362286125.post-3693245675671498911</id><published>2009-01-01T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T10:58:29.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to our Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV0STcPyPyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EO3T1wvXAx0/s1600-h/IMG_8035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV0STcPyPyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EO3T1wvXAx0/s320/IMG_8035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286401662812045090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some time now I've wanted a blog but, I've not been able to find the time (or the right name). So, on this New Year's Day I decided to go for it. I will offer nothing here but little snippets of life with our two precious children. A blog of pictures, really. So far I've nothing to post, but I'm making this a New Year's resolution. I guess. Today, however, there is much cleaning and organizing to do....so, it's actually probable that I will make multiple posts this New Year's since neither of those two things fall into my area of expertise (much to my husband's chagrin.) Anyway, Happy New Year.....may all your resolutions be manageable. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6046900150362286125-3693245675671498911?l=holcombeparty.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/feeds/3693245675671498911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/welcome-to-our-blog.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/3693245675671498911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6046900150362286125/posts/default/3693245675671498911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://holcombeparty.blogspot.com/2009/01/welcome-to-our-blog.html' title='Welcome to our Blog'/><author><name>Emily T. Holcombe</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07542981031560785326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/Sj7dhu9qTbI/AAAAAAAAADw/gruiN1pGcGA/S220/IMG_8744.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gz_oD5Hh_Cs/SV0STcPyPyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/EO3T1wvXAx0/s72-c/IMG_8035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
