tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70983832817996467142024-02-19T08:23:42.214-08:00I've Come to RealizeHuss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.comBlogger16125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-18237716152777236822009-08-18T05:19:00.001-07:002009-08-18T05:26:47.561-07:00Mommy-Toddler TranslationA friend gave me a great idea to schedule in some craft time each day. I figured this would increase her creativity and give us some bonding time as well. So yesterday, I told Nevaeh, "It's time to <strong>do crafts</strong>". She got excited, and went straight to the closet where I keep all the play dough, paints, crayons, and markers, etc. To my surprise, she grabbed the pens and highlighters and an activity book. I figured this was an odd choice given all there was to choose from. Nevertheless, we went into the kitchen, where she sat down at the table and said..."Okay mom <strong>draw crabs</strong>". I now understood her choice of pens, and I couldn't stop laughing. I am not an artist so I encouraged her to "draw crabs" first. It turns out they are just a bunch of squiggled, so I took my turn and it turned out fun. Even lost in translation, craft time was fun. I think this is something we will continue on a regular basis.Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-14520471115074611122009-06-03T12:13:00.000-07:002009-06-03T12:30:31.382-07:00Sorry Out of CashSo I was at the Commissary today, and I did something that I have not done before...I stiffed the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">bagger</span> on her tip. I feel really bad, especially since I know they don't get paid by the hour and work <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">solely</span> for tips. The girl was really nice, and she bagged the stuff well. To top it off, I couldn't remember where I parked my car, and she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">literally</span> walked from one end of the parking lot to the other helping me look for it. So why the stiff? Trust me it was not intentional; I thought I had some cash in the glove box (apparently my husband took the gas money and forgot to tell me...good thing I didn't need gas). I promised her I would go to the ATM and get her some money. But here's the twist and why I'm not sure if the guilt trip is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">warranted</span> or not. The guy waiting for my parking space handed the girl a $5 bill, so should I still feel bad? I did attempt to go to the ATM, but while I was trying to remember my PIN number (which I still can't remember...dang baby eating my brain), a police officer came over and almost gave me a ticket b/c I left the car running (with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Nevaeh</span> in it) in a Fire Lane. I explained I just needed to go to the ATM, but he told me that it was a serious offense and that I needed to park the car. I decided to leave instead, but now I'm feeling really guilty that I didn't give the girl a tip. Am I overreacting or should I go back and slip the girl the $5 she deserves? What do you think?Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-2975200547810302742009-03-05T11:25:00.000-08:002009-03-05T12:01:46.884-08:00Things I love about my Husband...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPh-RuEH7fpK1-_95MZDqloTGxX-2VB8p4n7PpKeYY3NfrxELtoIVTB9qCfmHuAEWa44xF0m_cP22NmFW_hGo_87i0ai3HA9ioyCQ1XKJxt_kOL_V-yVjizyxNh4mWSoCsmDovosCfqhs/s1600-h/Chris+and+Candace+122608.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309795844133115746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPh-RuEH7fpK1-_95MZDqloTGxX-2VB8p4n7PpKeYY3NfrxELtoIVTB9qCfmHuAEWa44xF0m_cP22NmFW_hGo_87i0ai3HA9ioyCQ1XKJxt_kOL_V-yVjizyxNh4mWSoCsmDovosCfqhs/s200/Chris+and+Candace+122608.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><div><div><div>* I love that he tells me he loves me about five times before he walks out the door and at the end of EVERY phone call, no matter how brief.<br /><br />* I love when he sprays on his cologne and then comes to hug me, making sure I can smell it, b/c he knows it is my favorite smell in the world.<br /><br />* I love how he checks to make sure the doors and windows are all locked at least twice each night and answers patiently when I ask him if he'd checked them ALL.<br /><br />* I love that no matter how hard he tries to be quiet, he is still one of the loudest people I know. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja18ThTYXnjUeIiYlBHEgT4lvh4PbWwx5Df4WEHYEZcnz6DrW0quLMGpqOuFB5g9F1w1GhlSE49YYnN_9PAa6iDsn6dEeb95NSq5lCWdoBgbJLay7YqI4KL9t8rGptcBDw-KIceKD64hY/s1600-h/Nevaeh+and+Daddy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309793031194200322" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja18ThTYXnjUeIiYlBHEgT4lvh4PbWwx5Df4WEHYEZcnz6DrW0quLMGpqOuFB5g9F1w1GhlSE49YYnN_9PAa6iDsn6dEeb95NSq5lCWdoBgbJLay7YqI4KL9t8rGptcBDw-KIceKD64hY/s200/Nevaeh+and+Daddy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />* I love that when we go to the park, Chris has every bit as much fun as any child there.<br /><br />* I love that he can never turn Nevaeh down when she asks him to read or play with her.<br /><br />* I love that he is willing to share his day with me, however mundane.</div><br /><div></div><div>* I love how he automatically helps without complaint to take care of the dishes after dinner.<br /><br />* I love that he trusts me completely to take care of the finances he works so hard to earn.<br /><br />* I love his work ethic, even when it keeps him at work hours longer than everyone else.<br /><br />* I love how he asks my opinion when he picks something out to wear, and doesn't complain when I suggest he change something so it matches better.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX1vH2jz53EQ83OMffNngd7pelM5_p2XaPsHRGXRcb0y5_cFh7Blv_kwNaWu8_3f9yQ2XhKI1KKd4DDra-HLe4uRbAxnGAYMVqTUFKjDEdQj_ddg1lqByfMG28zbToSXpIACPIthu0Ks/s1600-h/DSC00976.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309794702778620930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPX1vH2jz53EQ83OMffNngd7pelM5_p2XaPsHRGXRcb0y5_cFh7Blv_kwNaWu8_3f9yQ2XhKI1KKd4DDra-HLe4uRbAxnGAYMVqTUFKjDEdQj_ddg1lqByfMG28zbToSXpIACPIthu0Ks/s200/DSC00976.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />* I love that he is so knowledgable and careful about our cars and makes sure they stay working properly. I will never have to worry about being stranded in my car.<br /><br /></div>*I love how he makes me laugh with a single facial expression.<br /><br /><div></div><div>** I love that I am the one woman in the whole world that gets to be Chris Huss' wife. That makes me special!<br /><br />What do you love about your spouse?</div></div></div></div></div>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-45068200812283020002009-03-04T05:04:00.000-08:002009-03-04T05:21:23.124-08:00New HomeSo I know it has been FOREVER since my last post, and my small audience who actually checks my blogs is increasingly dwindling b/c well, I haven't written anything. However, to be fair, I didn't really write, b/c most of them I talked to on a daily basis, but now that has changed, and my lazy blogging habits are going to have to change too. So for the latest bit of news, I have moved. Not too far, just closer to the beach. It is a nice house for us. It has the garage and deck for Chris, the fenced in back yard for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nevaeh</span> and lots of closets for me. However it is missing something...the closeness of a few select friends. I know it is Navy life that we all move away, but unlike the last house, I moved into this one alone, and the daunting task of meeting my neighbors is not looking promising. In time I guess (I am sure the subzero temperatures are keeping everyone inside...or I know they would all be bringing me homemade pies and introducing themselves...right?) Nevertheless we are settling in, and the unpacking is almost done. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Nevaeh</span> is settling too, although I don't think she quite knows the difference (except she has to go upstairs to bed). We started "God Blessing" everyone at bedtime, and while I say, "All our friends" she has to name them one by one...and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Kyra</span> and Megan...you are doubly blessed <strong>every</strong> night. I know she misses you, as do I (and Alicia too) :) . I hope you are settling in to your new homes as well in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Arctic</span> Tundra. Keep in touch!Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-60130042433149837862008-10-30T22:20:00.001-07:002008-10-30T22:43:29.663-07:00Date Nights<span style="color:#ff99ff;">So a good friend of mine blogged about date nights a few days ago. Her husband and her haven't had a "date night" in a very long time, and they honestly "just don't care to have that". She wanted to know if that was normal. Practically every one of her friends told her that she was perfectly normal for not wanting to leave her child (although many have offered their services for FREE) and spend some time alone with her husband. Me, being the very honest opinionated friend that I am, told her that she was a freak. Not really, but I did try to share with her the importance of a date night.<br /></span><p><span style="color:#ff99ff;">I explained that I love my daughter and the time I spend with her, as does my husband. However, we also like to rekindle the romance of pre-baby. We like to hold hands across the table and just look into each other's eyes (without being interrupted every 10 seconds to help feed the baby or pick up a spilt sippy cup). We like to take this time to discuss intimate, personal things that don't need to be talked about in front of a child. And while we could discuss all this at home (on the couch watching tv when the ankle biter is in bed, as seems to be the norm with her friends), why? I want to know. Am I the only one who gets excited about dressing up for my man (butterflies included), having him romance me like he did when we were dating? We were a family before our daughter and we will be one when she grows up and leaves. So why not spend some time ALONE and remember why we chose to expand our family in the first place?<br /></span></p><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">However, with so many responses to the contrary, I am beginning to wonder if I am alone in desiring to spend time alone with my husband. Is it selfish of us to desire time away from the child we created? Is it wrong to not spend every precious moment I can with her, knowing she will only be with us a short period of time before moving onto her own things? If I am alone tell me, if you enjoy something special about your date nights, tell me that too. Where do you stand on date nights?</span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-31604815928625206632008-10-04T18:36:00.000-07:002008-10-06T07:27:53.361-07:00Priorities<span style="color:#ffff00;">So for those of you who are used to my PC blogs (mostly about my daughter), you may choose not to read any further, b/c this is a very opinionated point about a controversial subject...priorities. Here's the scoop:<br /><br />Wednesday, the 1st, my husband and I decide we are completely out of food (seriously, no bread no peanut butter, no milk...nothing) and we MUST go grocery shopping. We carry ourselves down to the local Wal-Mart with our carefully planned grocery list and our meager $150 budget for 2 weeks worth of food. (For those of you who think that is a lot...keep reading).<br /><br />Some of you are thinking...I thought this was titled priorities, not groceries...I'm getting there.<br /><br />We get in one of THREE lines that are open for people having more than 20 items in their cart, and wait.....and wait....and wait some more. The lady in front of us has TWO carts FULL of food. Now Chris and I knew it was the first (we were there b/c we had just gotten paid), what we didn't realize was that not only had we just gotten paid, but so did every other person in the military and on Food Stamps (here's where the priorities kicks in).<br /><br />She goes to pay for her (get this) $400 worth of food with her government issued food stamps, and is declined. After ringing up all those groceries, and making us stand in line for 45 minutes, she does not have the money (or food stamps) to cover it (apparently something was wrong with her card).<br /><br />Now I am not against people needing assistance. What I am against and what I have a BIG problem with is this:<br /><br />1) The lady was well over 300lbs and clearly did not need all that food...most of which was junk food (I'm talking chips, brownies, cookies, etc). Am I the only one who thinks they should regulate food stamps like WIC checks (specific items only....ya know....veggies, fruit, meat, bread, eggs, necessity items)?<br />2) What the heck entitles her to get $400 worth of free food? My husband busts his butt everyday to protect our freedoms and the government gives us $250 in his paycheck (for our whole family) toward food...Tell me how that makes sense.<br />3) And this is what got me going on the priorities kick to begin with. While this woman is being rung up, she takes out her $300 phone (which I am sure comes with at $80-$100 per month bill) and starts chatting. NOW, if I can't afford to feed my family, then what gives me the right to have those such luxuries?<br /><br />What happened to budgeting in our country and taking pride in our good names and credit? When did it become okay to take handouts that we don't need just because we are eligible? And why is our government supporting people who clearly do not have the ambition to prioritize and support themselves or who at the least just clearly have very misguided ideals about necesities and luxuries?<br /><br />In the midst of the financial crisis our country is in, I think we need to tell our government that enough is enough for handouts and bailouts. Let people fall on their butts one good time and they won't do it again. Have we yet to learn that feeding someone without teaching them the skills they need to feed themselves, only lends itself to a bigger problem. Enough of my soap box...I am interested in hearing what you think.</span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-85481805498689914732008-09-25T22:41:00.001-07:002008-09-27T07:47:36.694-07:00Late Labor Day UpdateWe had the BEST family day ever! We decided to take the day and visit the Outer Banks of NC. It wasn't far, and there was sooo much to do.<br /><br /><div><div><div></div><div>Since the weekend before we had visited the Smithsonian Museum of Transportation and seen the originial Wright Brother's airplane, we felt it only fitting that we visit the place it all happened. So we started our trip at the Wright Brother's Memorial. It was neat to see and hear the stories of how the history of flight all started and compare it with how far we have come. It really opened my eyes to the amazing things that are yet to be discovered by future generations. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IVklRYHBFTU100cgxQWhX3scW-PDAUR7QKaOxePrR3ecaPEa4AdYLejKsobx61l2tELzPijSUscYrVATwGygvlH90a-cKvYuCI2OHfqR8IBwYKUYxdK_czs4NtSaNo71BXA-ICnkulc/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250212062579838786" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-IVklRYHBFTU100cgxQWhX3scW-PDAUR7QKaOxePrR3ecaPEa4AdYLejKsobx61l2tELzPijSUscYrVATwGygvlH90a-cKvYuCI2OHfqR8IBwYKUYxdK_czs4NtSaNo71BXA-ICnkulc/s200/Picture+008.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs4x5HnquFHxYbq7szN-BrMPzPXtLWBkDOQo51QBiCzBz5vUTBeq2l2er-R5fdQ5VbqkTCN7GIgl5ca2Xi9XRpV8DdIqP1LQ7vgGcYgF5SAnXSIybktTxOyqZk41WPhXeySe9si82N7DE/s1600-h/Picture+022.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250208868512461842" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" 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src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxyB-PCW5w7jzI55TDrHzg61gd5IRT086Mh9jYJvbCTfa5f3H5LzipyMMuAekS4_p7vvtcPsxGM1mGLv7za2OgDY0U1xlWz3geqUf5q1zkqqzj8ulD3OOAXGehih024Ld8w0NXvgKMqY0/s200/Picture+017.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2C7NSNtIElxScZnZ79hEbz8sWBfZes8nrgdrm-zBCjhI-WAEButEv7AG3APDHY8Yybln7Riw3ufw5IAuBWIyxICkPfua1tYBryfskJ64_CZ7ux6b9rmqXt95Hc1-ezlLrRPrlIsDc2CU/s1600-h/Picture+018.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250212058457466434" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2C7NSNtIElxScZnZ79hEbz8sWBfZes8nrgdrm-zBCjhI-WAEButEv7AG3APDHY8Yybln7Riw3ufw5IAuBWIyxICkPfua1tYBryfskJ64_CZ7ux6b9rmqXt95Hc1-ezlLrRPrlIsDc2CU/s200/Picture+018.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>From there we went to Jockey's Ridge, which is the largest sand dune on the East Coast. If you aren't a fan of sand...I wouldn't recomend it. Also bonus tip, leave the strollers in the car. Nevaeh was so worn out by her adventures in the air, that she fell asleep on the 6 mile (literally) ride to the sand dunes. Chris and I thought it would be fine to push her in her stroller, since afterall it is a jogging stroller. Once again, not our brightest moment, but we were determined to fly our kite out there. The views were amazing and I marvel once again at God's creations. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirH4BP596ur3tHaajfnhHs_-bWJ0t5ZjF1zY8cDnYFb368PEYpnHkyThiwyP6CzfzLGXjZ9heYoa7yOnOnHw89fug8P7HlUHi7_n98j7z_V3tgY-3ASb5PlGO9Dkj7prC2tGYZOcEwQbU/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250215854210451874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirH4BP596ur3tHaajfnhHs_-bWJ0t5ZjF1zY8cDnYFb368PEYpnHkyThiwyP6CzfzLGXjZ9heYoa7yOnOnHw89fug8P7HlUHi7_n98j7z_V3tgY-3ASb5PlGO9Dkj7prC2tGYZOcEwQbU/s200/Picture+027.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7RWw5bxM-eyhhNq85TlHs211tMNwIRoXI4al4masYGDitiYQQ_saliDhSxvkZ1hfgt1MgeoU-VNYTwi-Mnzfg8HRxfmeZ4si4_KAEFiaRFv088niUnTQP1hb-Us2TbuRL6-obG0xZYj8/s1600-h/Picture+028.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250215861872651618" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7RWw5bxM-eyhhNq85TlHs211tMNwIRoXI4al4masYGDitiYQQ_saliDhSxvkZ1hfgt1MgeoU-VNYTwi-Mnzfg8HRxfmeZ4si4_KAEFiaRFv088niUnTQP1hb-Us2TbuRL6-obG0xZYj8/s200/Picture+028.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6t4mI-eJzZPLwWhWC-LuKbe6XEJgRccw3AyC4bjN4T6aDlvWDCdBc6O6_trkzwtFz0gROuNk5HbTqSeOuB8fWPhDU1yl6etCEnrhkHKyoh9ZZlPmslYXForNMnLuGAF_lHRh1jIUc2lw/s1600-h/Picture+025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250215848600081426" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6t4mI-eJzZPLwWhWC-LuKbe6XEJgRccw3AyC4bjN4T6aDlvWDCdBc6O6_trkzwtFz0gROuNk5HbTqSeOuB8fWPhDU1yl6etCEnrhkHKyoh9ZZlPmslYXForNMnLuGAF_lHRh1jIUc2lw/s200/Picture+025.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdwkxSAwASnOGVXeKaKn9QKtVFo5mBHMQoOfzlLA4yfQaFV7zXoxHN2s07-LQn3X6W5woS9GLdChLoi6pUho793SqJzmC0wltmEk92rg73H6uPjqWO76P_rO-97hQ6emwTXqaIJxYHzQ/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250215849440524306" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWdwkxSAwASnOGVXeKaKn9QKtVFo5mBHMQoOfzlLA4yfQaFV7zXoxHN2s07-LQn3X6W5woS9GLdChLoi6pUho793SqJzmC0wltmEk92rg73H6uPjqWO76P_rO-97hQ6emwTXqaIJxYHzQ/s200/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlUDPXETrOrOjoFQjulEUCcs1L2404jq5RmgaB12LwekV6Ta2nHfo2UEnPLVU-gDbwMJjhApkVJxHI34Bj-C_QNhuDRjY9fr1GXU8e0APzC-pJZY6hXVUUFeIGt0LpGQKDN6lpn6iQURs/s1600-h/Picture+029.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250215865346276994" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlUDPXETrOrOjoFQjulEUCcs1L2404jq5RmgaB12LwekV6Ta2nHfo2UEnPLVU-gDbwMJjhApkVJxHI34Bj-C_QNhuDRjY9fr1GXU8e0APzC-pJZY6hXVUUFeIGt0LpGQKDN6lpn6iQURs/s200/Picture+029.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Our day ended at Roanoake Island, or as I learned in school the Lost Colony. I know what you are thinking, if it is lost, how did we find it...am I right?! Well, we're just that good. Not really, I learned a few things my SC education did not teach me. There were in fact a total of 3 groups of people dropped in the same spot before the last group disapeared. The next group wound up in Jamestown. The villages are very similar, but the one in Williamsburg is bigger, so if you had to choose, I'd go to that one. However, the interactive museum was fun. We all got to play dress up and Chris got to go "duck hunting". The whole experience was great. I'm not sure who acted more like a child...including Nevaeh. </div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXBOKRjaWyz1XHiyEXCx3j3Xt9bTOIzwZnYa7YZBp7d-OG9L42wClMR3nS_f44ecTTPlJdV7g4q202HWJjXFZLzN_eOTgUYNMnbdM3QTTCDpsArhys_ST3jBuDechEu-zmX9g-k11-iU/s1600-h/Picture+030.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250220453269270722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXBOKRjaWyz1XHiyEXCx3j3Xt9bTOIzwZnYa7YZBp7d-OG9L42wClMR3nS_f44ecTTPlJdV7g4q202HWJjXFZLzN_eOTgUYNMnbdM3QTTCDpsArhys_ST3jBuDechEu-zmX9g-k11-iU/s200/Picture+030.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmsGKrclPP4wvre2PClVNdugLVhSNRcxPe67WbfpIXfookV2v7hfiJtWTyvyz_JuKuRhGAfBlH1Z_ezOb33S4AHSSas4oSyfeZLLvh-eeaEXDEBLFYyd90wDuz6kbsHQVwgDm7PllxNHc/s1600-h/Picture+039.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250223379648501202" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmsGKrclPP4wvre2PClVNdugLVhSNRcxPe67WbfpIXfookV2v7hfiJtWTyvyz_JuKuRhGAfBlH1Z_ezOb33S4AHSSas4oSyfeZLLvh-eeaEXDEBLFYyd90wDuz6kbsHQVwgDm7PllxNHc/s200/Picture+039.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt798iuk5Btw-FdC4S231NU6JqcY_Qu3m-F3VZR11-G6FvnV2i11UtvnCyPIIfacoxGQ7JYkk8JYkw5FaU7HDRKHSNPWbl2XjC2JjTVgOCBDhzIU1cEdxRSARXFxGlzlOHKaKjhEVxA6I/s1600-h/Picture+040.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250223385157483826" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt798iuk5Btw-FdC4S231NU6JqcY_Qu3m-F3VZR11-G6FvnV2i11UtvnCyPIIfacoxGQ7JYkk8JYkw5FaU7HDRKHSNPWbl2XjC2JjTVgOCBDhzIU1cEdxRSARXFxGlzlOHKaKjhEVxA6I/s200/Picture+040.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xPaW1BjGCZV8UfU9oJ2jNtBG2l2yrK9uzFX-zz1YOELUBFPDaKoDvdlxc9Z5_tf8rUnlslHXrPiH70skgfs0lXHIUESIXO0EJuwmh7SfW69t2Vjd2CBB5kSs98zq6_2pT9V_2BgG5KM/s1600-h/Picture+033.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250220458222598370" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xPaW1BjGCZV8UfU9oJ2jNtBG2l2yrK9uzFX-zz1YOELUBFPDaKoDvdlxc9Z5_tf8rUnlslHXrPiH70skgfs0lXHIUESIXO0EJuwmh7SfW69t2Vjd2CBB5kSs98zq6_2pT9V_2BgG5KM/s200/Picture+033.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNX8lQrYJUCqwt3gK9fPrsaKU8NSVX0-WlvMfVWY0elwdkBKtdSQ-pzqKe62XdGS9U-ZJ9fOsFmwlO1YEXedpf9DJmFzNePvlpfe6tF_kaLyx8dC-EsaWIZpfvN0mzXIj9qZXKm55PAa8/s1600-h/Picture+036.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250220468897146242" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNX8lQrYJUCqwt3gK9fPrsaKU8NSVX0-WlvMfVWY0elwdkBKtdSQ-pzqKe62XdGS9U-ZJ9fOsFmwlO1YEXedpf9DJmFzNePvlpfe6tF_kaLyx8dC-EsaWIZpfvN0mzXIj9qZXKm55PAa8/s200/Picture+036.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoUFnzouThqNegZDJ50Nr87ONGo2A6iJJ1Fb1fhQ4o3rQidz3dcU0anWImr0DECm0PdweKuEI8Krzs9VkXNNVo-DXVGv-HP1QwckAeQQxyaZnWFphUHYL5JEon9g719IqBJb-KfWPneFQ/s1600-h/Picture+037.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250220467983092818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoUFnzouThqNegZDJ50Nr87ONGo2A6iJJ1Fb1fhQ4o3rQidz3dcU0anWImr0DECm0PdweKuEI8Krzs9VkXNNVo-DXVGv-HP1QwckAeQQxyaZnWFphUHYL5JEon9g719IqBJb-KfWPneFQ/s200/Picture+037.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmc49lK_WRtNu6o_sqF_wh1DAILgC_9Uq1Qpr98VStZEa8ZwiPed6mhB4aXeavjiMB15uOC5feozNOlVY8ek9v3rYU-mNUtlTToNNtaSZhdqd47JcM6j-ZftEMw9qp3rFLLaVpkKaYAs/s1600-h/Picture+045.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250220468901423154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhmc49lK_WRtNu6o_sqF_wh1DAILgC_9Uq1Qpr98VStZEa8ZwiPed6mhB4aXeavjiMB15uOC5feozNOlVY8ek9v3rYU-mNUtlTToNNtaSZhdqd47JcM6j-ZftEMw9qp3rFLLaVpkKaYAs/s200/Picture+045.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijr5wZ5YqPi3jH4lgIaWQbaple6aQc0jFLLwfqBSFPLGJsSk1j5HkTnI-kTDc1zuoF94VYRqOrhcDTO37N_w_AolM0oOeY-rWU5pWkSXUvWl80n0C7TCN4WDLLrD95v51Dh8HEJoIWh9M/s1600-h/Picture+046.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250223400611909730" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijr5wZ5YqPi3jH4lgIaWQbaple6aQc0jFLLwfqBSFPLGJsSk1j5HkTnI-kTDc1zuoF94VYRqOrhcDTO37N_w_AolM0oOeY-rWU5pWkSXUvWl80n0C7TCN4WDLLrD95v51Dh8HEJoIWh9M/s200/Picture+046.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcsC06vEq4VrE87yC7cNXuwRwp59lYdaiR4srL2aKzmx6KVWAR8WTidjrFoaHiEV2RMZ7xo4NVectBriF8lE1HMLhxpNglb06Fm4pmm8oftyGmOBovdY1zCDihym_TdQgIDlRXMzRCHo/s1600-h/Picture+035.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250223394313607634" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcsC06vEq4VrE87yC7cNXuwRwp59lYdaiR4srL2aKzmx6KVWAR8WTidjrFoaHiEV2RMZ7xo4NVectBriF8lE1HMLhxpNglb06Fm4pmm8oftyGmOBovdY1zCDihym_TdQgIDlRXMzRCHo/s200/Picture+035.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div></div><div>It was a fun-filled full day, and while I captured it all on video, I also accidently deleted all the footage while trying to get it onto my computer. However, we did take some photos of our adventure. So enjoy the belated update and pictures. Drop us a line to let us know how you spent your Labor Day.</div></div></div>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-73891699609013275982008-09-02T10:24:00.000-07:002008-09-25T22:41:18.984-07:00Beautiful Lengths<div><div><div><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">Our church was planning on having a large hair cutting in May for Beautiful Lenghts with Pantene. But the date was pushed back to September. I tried to wait, but the summer here was too hot, and I was tired of it. Plus I was ready for a change. So, I had to cut it a little sooner than the others, but I still had 10 inches to donate. </span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXi0CjrvgXyHuPClcilBxLfwVOSG_dalRAd1bgy5hFsHm0cSu_U6UoYUopxKx6NNDsNVd4vFwNGjt6Fvq27LUSiCFVjXzTWOLwJcHKRhhAVwgPx-obKEqhyphenhyphenSEIJB9s9tiyNmcdc77OXg/s1600-h/Picture+041.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5250200799250216050" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXi0CjrvgXyHuPClcilBxLfwVOSG_dalRAd1bgy5hFsHm0cSu_U6UoYUopxKx6NNDsNVd4vFwNGjt6Fvq27LUSiCFVjXzTWOLwJcHKRhhAVwgPx-obKEqhyphenhyphenSEIJB9s9tiyNmcdc77OXg/s200/Picture+041.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#00cccc;">The new do is pretty short, but I like it, and surprisingly so does Chris. He actually said he liked it better than the long hair. Between you and me, I think he was just tired of picking up after my shedding (especially in the car). I'll get some pictures and post them soon. Hope you are having a cooler summer. I know I am now.</span> </div></div></div></div>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-19599064517425294052008-09-02T10:06:00.001-07:002008-09-02T10:17:42.026-07:00Hunny I'm Home<span style="color:#33cc00;">So everyone knows that when there is a toddler around, you have to watch what you say. Now most people take this to mean bad words and such, and I agree with that. What I did not think it meant was you had to watch EVERYTHING you say and do. Nevaeh's favorite new phrase of choice: "Hunny", and she says it refering to Chris. For example, Chris came home from duty the other morning, and as he came in the door, Nevaeh chimes up, "Hello, Hunny". Chris and I started laughing, and it <em>was</em> funny, but it has only encouraged her. Last night Chris took us out to dinner. We were in the car leaving and she chimes, "Thank you Hunny".<br /><br />We think it is adorable. However, we are not so fond of her newest imitation, slapping me on the butt. I don't know if she is imitating us spanking her of if she is copying Chris' playful slaps of my butt. Either way, we have told her it is not nice to hit, but she thinks it is funny. It just goes to show you, Mini-Me's are not only in movies they are found right under foot. I guess we'll have to be more careful about what we say and do from now on.</span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-78298091923440070652008-06-28T17:36:00.001-07:002008-06-28T17:48:30.075-07:00What Meal is this?<span style="color:#993399;">So, I know I have been away for a while, and I have lots of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">excuses</span>, and I might get around to posting them, but for now, I'm just going to begin again with the reason I started blogging...my adorable, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">independent</span> 18 month old daughter. Every morning for the past week, I have gotten up and taken her into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. And without fail, she has reached into the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">refrigerator</span> and picked up both the peanut butter and jelly and insisted on having them for breakfast. The first day I thought it was so cute, I couldn't resist, and I promptly made the custom order. The next day I was stunned she wanted it again, but I happily <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">obliged</span> her. Like I said, we are now going a week strong, and she still wants PB&J for breakfast. I always said I would not be one of those moms who makes something different for each person at mealtime, but seeing as I don't exactly make a 3 course meal for breakfast (or any other meal for the matter) I really don't see the harm in <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">obliging</span> her; I mean at least it is healthy. What do you think? Should I save to PB&J's for lunch and ask that she eat the same breakfast as the rest of us, or is it okay to take <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">reasonable</span> requests from a one year old?</span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-38465730748945822812008-04-08T10:32:00.000-07:002010-03-10T08:16:50.904-08:00Twenty-six<span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0);" ><span style="color:#cccccc;">So I have officially gone over the hill...not 50; twenty-six. I am no longer a young twenty-something. I have mixed emotions about it; but mostly, I'm okay with it. I have an amazing husband, a beautiful daughter and an overall happy life. Today I got the chance to really look back at my past and consider what I have done with my life. Truth is looking back, I have few regrets. Though I am not what I once was or even where I thought I would be, I am better off and happier than I could have imagined. I am not a workaholic in a corporate advertising firm like I thought I would be, but I submerged in my work as a stay-at-home mom. I do not have tons of friends that I go out partying with like I once did, but I have a few very close friends that would be there for me in a split-second and others who I love to have a good time with. My only regret is that I am not fully matured in my faith, but I am taking steps to learn and grow closer to my God every day. He has carried me here, and I have to say that turning twenty-six is not that bad, and reflecting back, I am so blessed to have come so far.</span> </span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-60609506637509606232008-03-08T18:30:00.000-08:002008-03-08T19:06:22.332-08:00Something out of Nothing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXHXNNjkhVMhRZElzob10r_HdZqJUeZ6_hjUVHysRrRy0ifZ89qUp7yU_bvE7wr290wgnAbT-3pKSxiVE8ZZ_Ifl27i5lWSbNhocydysqlmLERQ1ZsKhWUewS0srK4IYG18NgrX61M6o/s1600-h/DSC00420.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXHXNNjkhVMhRZElzob10r_HdZqJUeZ6_hjUVHysRrRy0ifZ89qUp7yU_bvE7wr290wgnAbT-3pKSxiVE8ZZ_Ifl27i5lWSbNhocydysqlmLERQ1ZsKhWUewS0srK4IYG18NgrX61M6o/s200/DSC00420.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175570746540785858" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);">While I think it is true you can't get something for nothing, I definately believe you can make something <span style="font-style: italic;">out</span> of nothing. I get to do that everytime I sew. This past summer, I wanted to learn how to sew. I felt like I should know how to do something domestic and anyone who really knows me knows that cooking and cleaning are NOT my forte. So, I enlisted the help of the Pastor's wonderful wife, Tracey, and I learned how to make clothes. This past week, I made my daughter's Easter dress, and it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. First I basically had to create 2 dresses b/c it has a liner and then, I had to take it apart 3 times...so yeah me for not giving up! This post is basically a public thank you for all the people who helped make my accomplishment possible: the aforementioned Tracey(who has amazing skill and patience), Grandma Wood (for the free material), Grandma Hahne (for the inspiration to even get started, as she is the epitome of how a classy woman should be and what one should know how to do), and lastly name brand marketin</span><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 204);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 255);">g for pricing children's clothing rediculously high. This post and product would not have been possible with out you!</span><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkbCz8IIU3XyiiZhc9MToDYXGaaKRM1IEVHIFQnZMC6MjY7uWUOU6lfxufvgPmjD0Am3tDqkoIvOcVxwjyNfZ5hJ0Pi7kOjPxcFjUMdER0qI2KVj6ODLuVIRe4LIsa5xIbD50SnLJqTs/s1600-h/DSC00416.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAkbCz8IIU3XyiiZhc9MToDYXGaaKRM1IEVHIFQnZMC6MjY7uWUOU6lfxufvgPmjD0Am3tDqkoIvOcVxwjyNfZ5hJ0Pi7kOjPxcFjUMdER0qI2KVj6ODLuVIRe4LIsa5xIbD50SnLJqTs/s200/DSC00416.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175571407965749458" border="0" /></a>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-27946550744388021742008-03-08T18:04:00.001-08:002008-03-08T18:28:39.696-08:00Don't Get Your Hopes Up...<span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);">Should be the new Navy slogan! Yes, I am a little bitter, and unfortunately it is a taste that all too many military wives have to get use to. Yet somehow knowing that doesn't make it any less sour. "Why, you may ask"...or better yet "What THIS time?" This time, I planned to spend my anniversary and Easter with my husband. I was soooo excited; it was to be his first Easter with his daughter (I even made her dress this year...that's another blog). But after having been informed that he was going to get to stay in on the next underway, they have changed their minds and decided that he needs to go back out to sea to do another pointless run before they tear the thing apart. At this point, I would like to quote from a fellow military wife..."just take the damned thing out to sea, use it as target practice and make a reef out of it- all the while selling tickets and popcorn for all of us who would love to watch the demise of the submarine that kept our husbands out to sea for so long. But, instead they're sending him back out to sea again. </span><br /> <br /> <em><span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);">God bless the Navy and those head honchos who apparently hate seeing their wives. **insert eye roll here** </span><br /> <br /> <span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);">I Personally want to insert my foot up someone's butt. Oh well; military life is rarely about getting what you want. Just thought I'd vent!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></em>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-59021021141660503462008-03-03T08:10:00.000-08:002008-03-04T05:49:24.179-08:00Circus Fun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_YJyOherNKHWWT9ewsdQi3md64V9_SMKh0V-aXB7qNK61E9-RRPILE3LrNhJ12YzuZ6MkdKRWM3SnEGSeuHQvZhFB7xfreHJSZyQv8bGkqKyfebaeJYbynO2WG9thj-ucS5fh1HJXfo/s1600-h/DSC00353.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU_YJyOherNKHWWT9ewsdQi3md64V9_SMKh0V-aXB7qNK61E9-RRPILE3LrNhJ12YzuZ6MkdKRWM3SnEGSeuHQvZhFB7xfreHJSZyQv8bGkqKyfebaeJYbynO2WG9thj-ucS5fh1HJXfo/s320/DSC00353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173624771475743778" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">We actually got a picture together as </span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">a family...yeah. Thanks Aunt Jenn.</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">We decided to take Nevaeh to the circus yesterday. I don't know who was more ex</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">cited, me or her. Probably me b/c I had not been since I was a kid, and I knew what was in store.</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Lucky for us Chris wasn't as caught up in the experience. He stuck to our budget and</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> refused to let me buy a $9 snow cone or a $20 twirly toy </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">for the baby. We did splurge and pay $6 for a box of popcorn and a soda. I had kinda forgotten how expensive it could be. I'm so glad I'm married to a wise man. All I could think was, "WOW. This is great" </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">Remember when you were a kid and you wanted to run away to the circus (okay maybe that was just me), but after leaving yesterday, I had </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">that same thought...and then I remembered life with a 1 year old is basically the same experience...heheh. She gets to tumble and climb and do</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> amazing feats everyday, while </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">I get to tame the tiger attitude and fill her elephant bell</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">y (Rich and Candace that's for you). I am pretty lucky! I guess I'll leave the re</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">st to the professionals. For your enjoyment, here are some pictures.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmOgfD7EyFkKgSmcSyhmsHwQolY3w8t50LsfM4os-WRjiU5AjEtcsqE8OU6y8ipZfEDzuNDiM-5Pdf4i7aw-dfql9gFfo64kDyt0KdVRkRRCL1kk6Sm6afU5CcrF3CGRwMRlzIL7aFJg/s1600-h/DSC00340.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmOgfD7EyFkKgSmcSyhmsHwQolY3w8t50LsfM4os-WRjiU5AjEtcsqE8OU6y8ipZfEDzuNDiM-5Pdf4i7aw-dfql9gFfo64kDyt0KdVRkRRCL1kk6Sm6afU5CcrF3CGRwMRlzIL7aFJg/s200/DSC00340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173625737843385394" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /><br /><br />This is the ringmaster </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WFlNXjHQoAjLr1ubKemiHudnA3Ex4-M94rHFNSAsoxJNSkOL0EmPP_FW8DWeiCZOBezGvRtPWzYyJKxvoJHUgnSn0_vnG5rZjZrRwe-UVBkwJVpZkjUyAyRPJx_MJSqiTzi1x6GCfYY/s1600-h/DSC00365.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6WFlNXjHQoAjLr1ubKemiHudnA3Ex4-M94rHFNSAsoxJNSkOL0EmPP_FW8DWeiCZOBezGvRtPWzYyJKxvoJHUgnSn0_vnG5rZjZrRwe-UVBkwJVpZkjUyAyRPJx_MJSqiTzi1x6GCfYY/s200/DSC00365.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173717310612142466" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /><br /><br />Can</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"> you believe they put six </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">motorcycle</span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">s in this tiny little ball? AND they all drove around at the </span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">same time. I was impressed!<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Ski5I_C0hTL0cqSfVqRZLoL35pXi5XK7y5gV2fXSk3_9AHQ0nPLEWrxIalXUIYrbSDpmFZd7e2A5XDiqpVlvGkriNE1BZ5pTwbYoowyQxCP2yR_j5qvNOVdFqcQrkeI78JgyBos1LcU/s1600-h/DSC00386.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Ski5I_C0hTL0cqSfVqRZLoL35pXi5XK7y5gV2fXSk3_9AHQ0nPLEWrxIalXUIYrbSDpmFZd7e2A5XDiqpVlvGkriNE1BZ5pTwbYoowyQxCP2yR_j5qvNOVdFqcQrkeI78JgyBos1LcU/s200/DSC00386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173722709386033570" border="0" /></a> <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The Elephants<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tIUyIE0qs2B1hclbowCkuuZiSxjh_9neGVcxZovkfl6xDVmoiESLIQE31A9hDf4JUwtmzG5YR2eoMELcelReWOUnv-nvEtojCkIf0L_fHcf4-jg8jrjVPA4ZHcGHiUywT60y3JuZkXs/s1600-h/DSC00376.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tIUyIE0qs2B1hclbowCkuuZiSxjh_9neGVcxZovkfl6xDVmoiESLIQE31A9hDf4JUwtmzG5YR2eoMELcelReWOUnv-nvEtojCkIf0L_fHcf4-jg8jrjVPA4ZHcGHiUywT60y3JuZkXs/s200/DSC00376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173720518952712594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">The tiger tamer was very impressive! There were five of them and one of him, and they did not always look happy to be doing tricks. I almost thought they were going to attack him at one point, but he did it. He made them all stand up without losing a limb.<br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDmC41tlh9Thaw4pFRhndXiQLA3TwoeHWkdPfhK_HPgrrCK595fsRyNndLU6FrDyHarOQIPe_XieZJaj0oscw9FqToN99a0Gl4ZDyAL1jN0mjl1LOGJ4QUNH8cI6JMn4KqsC6D3TZ7hM/s1600-h/DSC00395.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWDmC41tlh9Thaw4pFRhndXiQLA3TwoeHWkdPfhK_HPgrrCK595fsRyNndLU6FrDyHarOQIPe_XieZJaj0oscw9FqToN99a0Gl4ZDyAL1jN0mjl1LOGJ4QUNH8cI6JMn4KqsC6D3TZ7hM/s200/DSC00395.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173724891229419954" border="0" /></a> <span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);">YEAH!!! WE WENT TO THE CIRCUS; It's okay to live vicariously through others. We had a blast. Hope you enjoyed our photos. Have a great week. God Bless</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /><br /><br /></span></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 255);"><span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 0);"><br /></span></span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-12002738911964235692008-02-24T19:36:00.000-08:002008-03-08T19:07:21.364-08:00Crying Times<span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">So at some point every new mother must humble themselves and ask for advise from more seasoned mothers. This is my cry for help. My daughter was doing a lot of crying today and every day for the past month whenever I leave her alone. I know she is going through some </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">separation</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> issues, but I don't know how much is too much. Today was my breaking point. Here's the scoop: I went to church and attempted to leave my daughter in the nursery. The worker had to pry her little fingers from around my arm and lift her up as she screamed bloody murder. I walked outside the room and cried for 10 minutes myself as I listened to my daughter's distress. A fellow worker took compassion on me and calmly told me that she would get me if my daughter continued to cry for 15 minutes. I took the tissue she offered and headed to the service. While trying to sing praises to my God, whom I had come to worship, my </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">thoughts</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> and heart were with my daughter. I lasted 30 minutes, but still felt the desire to check on </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Nevaeh</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">. Needless to say, as I headed down the hall that held her classroom, I could still hear her screaming for me. So I boldly walked in, told them that I could not let her cry anymore and that we were leaving. I was told that I needed to leave her b/c it was only going to get harder if I took her now. I was informed that I had to give it some time. Now, I am not one of those mothers who coddles her child. In fact, my husband and I successfully used the cry-it-out sleeping technique. But how much time is enough? Was I hasty in </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">retrieving</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> my child after 30 </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">mins</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);">? Or should I have let her cry for 2 hours as I was informed some parents had done? Is this really harder on me than on the child as the worker thought appropriate to share with me? This isn't just a church thing...it's an </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">every time</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> I leave her alone with someone thing. Whether at the gym for an hour while I work out or at church or even in another room with a sitter while </span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">I'm</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"> at a Bible study. I just don't know what to do and I desperately want to do what is right by her. Any advice would be greatly helpful. Thanks</span>Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7098383281799646714.post-29452336107304356572008-02-24T18:34:00.000-08:002008-02-24T18:51:05.624-08:00To YouLet me just put it out there....I miss all my friends. You know who you are. You are the people I could and did often call at odd hours for no reason, or in great need. You are the people who encouraged and stregthened me when I needed it most, and You are the people who never let me down, and always ensured I was true to myself. Why the sappy start for a new blogspot? B/c I was recently made aware of who You are. I was in need, and I depened on someoe and I was let down. I know that's life, and I'm over it, but it made me realize who my friends are and exactly how special You are to me. So if <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> don't know who you are...let me reasure you that you are probobly reading this right now (b/c I don't share my personal life with just anyone). You are loved and missed and thought of and prayed for everyday, and I am lucky and thankful to know YOU.Huss Householdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04758139421245496298noreply@blogger.com0