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Archive for November, 2007

Here comes Santa Claus!

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Or does he? Is Santa real at your house?

We’ve never told the boys Santa is real, but they’ve picked up on the whole idea from friends. I still haven’t decided whether to let them go with it, or to tell them how it really is. It’s almost popped out of my mouth several times but then I remember how much fun I had as a kid speculating on the existence of Santa, waiting for him by the fireplace, etc. Help me decide!

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Mmm….Yummy

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Meisha recently gifted me with this lovely award for my apparent Culinary Creativity. Remember this and this?

So thank you Meisha! I’m going to pass this on to Michelle at Scribbit. She posts unique scrumptious looking recipes on a weekly basis. Just looking at her pictures is enough to make my mouth water. Michelle’s blog is Mmm…Yummy!

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Just call me Paranoid

My husband does. I prefer to think of it as being safe.

Making sure the path from our bed to the kids beds to the front door is clear of clutter every night; safe.

Making sure I have liquid Benadryl in our cupboard and in my diaper bag at all times; safe

Using screen names and not posting photos of the kids on this blog; safe.

I knew when I created this blog that I wanted the world to read it. People whom I had never met before. That was my hope and it has been fulfilled. I’ve made great online friends who I hope someday to meet in person.

I also knew that in having a public blog, that maybe some not so great people might be reading it. So I decided to use screen names for my kids and to avoid posting any pictures of them. Well, I ended up posting just a couple pictures anyway. Because I wanted to share their cute faces with you, but I have since removed them because that little nagging voice in my head wouldn’t leave me alone.

What if someone is stealing those pictures? Not so implausible. I was part of the babyzone.com message boards for a long time and a dispute arose on one of the boards between a mother and someone who had been stealing that mothers pictures, posting them and claiming them as his/her children. *Note to bad guys, if you want to steal someone’s pictures of their children and say they are yours, do not post them within the same online community* DUH

What if people are taking pictures of my precious children and looking at them in ways or for reasons that would make me shudder?

What if there are people with ill intent who seek out pictures and names of children living in their area? They would recognize them. They would know them by name . All they need is a last name and a city and they’ve got a phone number. And if you’ve got a phone number and you type it into the Google search bar, you’ve got an address. *double shudder*

I’ve been hesitant to even mention my state of residence on here and have since removed all mention of it.

I know the media focuses on the worst events and that horrid things aren’t as common place as they make it seem. But if the possibility is there, why increase the risk? How could I live with myself if I was the person who enabled someone with bad intentions to find my children?

And for those of you who think that if you don’t submit your site to a search engine it won’t be on there, your wrong. Spider Engines like Google crawl the web picking up whatever they find and adding it to the database. Unless your site is password protected, anybody can see it.

So call me Paranoid if you will. I call it safe.

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The joy of a new toy

I awoke shortly after 8 a.m. today. Blessed event! I could scarcely believe it. The boys never sleep past 6:30 but for some reason they had not disturbed me or Hubby this morning.

That reason could of course course mean that our apartment was in ruins. I imagined permanent marker artwork on the walls, bags of cereal on the floor surrounded by their contents, more toothbrushes missing and a bathroom filled with toilet water. However I was pleasantly surprised when I neared the dining room and heard sounds of battle emanating from little boy mouths and found this:

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WHEW!

To the friend who brought Darth Tater over last night. I thank you. Their tiny Star Wars figures had been battling the giant evil Darth Tater for a good two hours according to Count Dooku who said he was up at 6 o’cwock and had found said Tater in a bag on the floor (rather near my permanent marker stash, yes I know I need to move them).

As of this moment the battle is still undecided, but the group is hoping their recruitment of a Happy Meal Bee toy in their defense will mean the difference between victory and getting “mashed”.

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Darth Tater: MUHAHAHAHAHA! If I can’t destroy you, Summer’s corny puns surely will!!!

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…I suppose I ought to post some solid blog content.

*thinking*

*thinking*

*thinking*

Um, I’ll get back to you on that. Thanksgiving may be over but I’ve been eating Turkey leftovers for 5 days and my brain is still fuzzy.

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I’ve always been big into Christmas decorating. I took over the decorating of the house for my parents when I was 14. My dad supplied the ladder and in early December I could be found on top of the roof stringing the lights, taping lights in every window in the house and threading them through tree branches. I can’t wait to have a house to decorate the outside of again. For now I make due with decorating the interior of our little apartment.

Today I set up the nativity set and hung lights and stockings and other Christmas decorations while the delicious smell of my Apple Wreath candle burned nearby. The boys we’re thrilled to help me tape lights to their bedroom window. After all of the lights were strung they insisted on turning off every light in the apartment to enjoy the glow. And they spoke excitedly of picking out a fresh Christmas tree in a week. I love Christmas decorations. And I love doing the decorating.

What about you?

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Kid Speak #6

Count Dooku decided to go shirtless around the house after church today. I didn’t notice for a while until he came and stood by me at the piano. His skin was blotched with purple and the following conversation ensued:

Me: “Your skin is blotched with cold. Go get a shirt on, buddy.”

Count Dooku: ” But I’m not cold!”

Me: “Yes you are. Your skin says it all.”

Count Dooku: “I don’t hear it.”

Then pointing to his tummy, “Look, it doesn’t have any mouths!”

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