tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12478183065099465882024-02-22T11:31:50.320-08:00HottieEmily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-29447403260247374332009-01-25T21:12:00.001-08:002009-01-25T21:24:04.066-08:00Follow the ProphetSaturday night Rob and Melissa Enger (total rockers) invited us to a Jazz game. FYI Rob now works for one of Larry H Miller's company's so when he gets Jazz tickets they are awesome. We get VIP tickets which include dinner, half time food, free drinks and seats so close I could read the tattoos on the players arms. Any way, after dinner we began the descent to the bowels of the Tox Box/ Delta Center so that we could walk across the shiny wood floor (which stays cleaner than my floor even though it has 10 large sweaty men on it all night) and find our seats. As we wandered the cement tunnels looking for the right portal we ran into President Monson. He asked why we were leaving when the game hadn't even started yet. So funny. "Hi I'm the prophet and I am going to casually joke around with everybody I see." He shook our hands and then proceeded down the tunnel to the elevator. The staff people hired to help stupid people like me decipher the numbers and letters on a ticket that somehow correlate with a seat, pointed us in the right direction. We wandered back down the tunnel RIGHT BEHIND THE PROPHET!! So guess what I start singing.... Follow the Prophet, Follow the Prophet. Jason told me to shut it so that I wouldn't embarrass our group but I just couldn't help myself. As we watched the people in front of us it was obvious who recognized this great man in their midst. I am not kidding, it was like a light bulb flashed on, people glowed. It was amazing. The game was great, the food was great, the company was great, but shaking the Prophet's hand.... priceless!Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-9932050018509423282008-10-22T05:44:00.000-07:002008-10-22T05:53:27.268-07:00Monday. BLECH!It all started fine. We got up at 6:00, read scriptures, cleaned the house, and the younger boys were off to school. I got to go exercise and even shower. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">TJ</span> had an eye appointment and Jason was home sick so I decided to take Jason's van and run my errands. BIG MISTAKE! Ten minutes down 7800 South I checked my blind spot the same instant the guy in front of me slammed on his brakes. BANG )#($* CRASH ^)$(#* BOOM @()#$& SMOKE )#(%&**#(+ ! Did I mention I was in Jason's COMPANY CAR?!? Luckily nobody was hurt. The guy in front of me was very nice and even <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">apologetic</span>. Jason came and had to do the dance with his company's safety team. The bad news is that it goes on Jason's work record even though I was driving. The good news is Jason's company is so cool that he had a rental within a few hours and they will pay for everything. It doesn't go on our insurance. I thought Jason was going to kill me, or leave me in a ditch, but true to form he is able to laugh about it with me. What a great guy!Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-18475104486891879692008-10-08T17:14:00.001-07:002008-10-08T17:39:43.923-07:00My Man<div style="text-align: center;">Jason pointed out the other day that I must be pretty embarrassed of him because he has never been posted on my blog. I only hesitated to put him on my blog for fear of ruining perfectly happy marriages out there when they see what I get everyday! Of course I'm not embarrassed and as a proud wife I would like to present: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 51, 51);">Jason</span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8aeCjrVV4o-SJzgIuqJvm0HrgOPANWLR8brNOlli53AABqFEkO5c_pOYF8wIKzbrZLvVYmX14inVczkpx4jUM8psrPbwrbjw0iVs5r3B2MelcMq8m1iUoVUH_VXoZ_Z1Z26MDYmDALEg/s1600-h/IMG_3461.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8aeCjrVV4o-SJzgIuqJvm0HrgOPANWLR8brNOlli53AABqFEkO5c_pOYF8wIKzbrZLvVYmX14inVczkpx4jUM8psrPbwrbjw0iVs5r3B2MelcMq8m1iUoVUH_VXoZ_Z1Z26MDYmDALEg/s200/IMG_3461.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254942080270952610" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Jason is probably one of the funniest people I have ever met. I don't think a day has gone by in our 15 years together that he hasn't made me laugh (which as you all know can be difficult.)</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUxIT37by7XiLDNKjPMeXklL8l1ak874Dp9wnDto8yGQg1kU_7QYeATXRWC89jfRXs4-8tsAtTnIyztm8Li0qvUkYTM_wZlA1tCoEYQ0_9ul_n7MmdeogsUMaU7wbgrWXPiZK08kgD5g/s1600-h/DSCF0369.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUxIT37by7XiLDNKjPMeXklL8l1ak874Dp9wnDto8yGQg1kU_7QYeATXRWC89jfRXs4-8tsAtTnIyztm8Li0qvUkYTM_wZlA1tCoEYQ0_9ul_n7MmdeogsUMaU7wbgrWXPiZK08kgD5g/s200/DSCF0369.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254942083510779490" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Jason is a fish. He can live underwater. He has the decency to surface long enough for us to enjoy that smile. Sometimes when he stays underwater for so long that I start worrying only to have his head pop up among the waves.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGxbwhporJAXphTGgf4cgz5mwZufRpnhFgAItPwSpm4zFqG5fPqNHhMlil76db-_h6I1dkBoo1NgSPGab66MkRwM_IBkkKlL-CfdLO_jPWRoBGLgVSLDKQE6HpWiw_ceFRFYAzLTqCjc/s1600-h/IMG_4268.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGxbwhporJAXphTGgf4cgz5mwZufRpnhFgAItPwSpm4zFqG5fPqNHhMlil76db-_h6I1dkBoo1NgSPGab66MkRwM_IBkkKlL-CfdLO_jPWRoBGLgVSLDKQE6HpWiw_ceFRFYAzLTqCjc/s200/IMG_4268.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254942085710216626" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Jason spoils me. This is a picture of us in Hawaii. We are both filthy, but serenely happy. He made sure we had a great time. He also spoils me at home. I am definitely the princess at my house. I get pretty much everything I want and some surprises along the way.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkgu44gONWPtHcQAWJ_fR6-9fshyAIgBIOvtgCJjLaTrBwEEZLn5HUcQ84dJxEyU82r_bG38h9uUE68LVnU0HQK4iMQoEPe245GiB_t4NuECnE8iBwwiArtbza7jO6Df7lc4ZqMG7z5k/s1600-h/IMG_3215.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPkgu44gONWPtHcQAWJ_fR6-9fshyAIgBIOvtgCJjLaTrBwEEZLn5HUcQ84dJxEyU82r_bG38h9uUE68LVnU0HQK4iMQoEPe245GiB_t4NuECnE8iBwwiArtbza7jO6Df7lc4ZqMG7z5k/s200/IMG_3215.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254942092702255762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Jason is a great dad. His boys light up when he gets home. They love hiking, golfing, gaming and many other things together. Sometimes I go, sometimes he leaves me home to gather my scattered pieces of sanity off the floor.</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1wgg_lc6HmMAZgIApSAQco1_c0omcWmsFibE5VHU2bpRyJsldkcc3kWE1rW6Ra4zjbBEaVkA83v8f3dval5eQdg18_tFH5KORvJmV7GCrEFF1T4kFuAYqHFuAih8VSEHf8IqKSOBvPk/s1600-h/IMG_4059.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT1wgg_lc6HmMAZgIApSAQco1_c0omcWmsFibE5VHU2bpRyJsldkcc3kWE1rW6Ra4zjbBEaVkA83v8f3dval5eQdg18_tFH5KORvJmV7GCrEFF1T4kFuAYqHFuAih8VSEHf8IqKSOBvPk/s200/IMG_4059.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254942095961678418" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is Jason at his finest. In public, in a dress, and shaking his booty. Who wouldn't be proud!</div>Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-87638558016243886852008-10-06T09:05:00.001-07:002008-10-06T13:34:33.516-07:00Melissa!<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXE_d1iWVbscol9FZ90AXonrq0qApetf005H18GnoflNJLkJgSzDfOtsE28ttKX-7HIluigKNYikIfYJxKvaYJaSVRSOwF2OWYauHEPW4b0KPZ7p9OXzsRC_kLuV3844rMwQGUHkuIxBY/s1600-h/IMG_5017.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXE_d1iWVbscol9FZ90AXonrq0qApetf005H18GnoflNJLkJgSzDfOtsE28ttKX-7HIluigKNYikIfYJxKvaYJaSVRSOwF2OWYauHEPW4b0KPZ7p9OXzsRC_kLuV3844rMwQGUHkuIxBY/s200/IMG_5017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254075767140904146" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It is my girlfriends Birthday and for those of you who don't know her I thought I would introduce you.<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">Melissa and I have been friends for over 10 years.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">It all started when I met her at church and thought "Way to cute to be my friend!" But she gave me a chance and it all payed off.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We have seven boys between the two of us. The oldest three (two of mine and one of hers) all hang out while our the next two were born two weeks apart, and the final two were born within 6 weeks of each other. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">We have seen each other through pregnancy, surgery, illness, death, painting projects, sporting events, job changes, calling changes, and most importantly hair changes. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiODLGSUf51pKpTxpWYDke5DKci-u1pKQhtZ33w2-94aYlWf0c8mmpZx6SU6ZZfvo6RmRtMhIthzdHzaGY6t_Sb2B9NUECYeMIdCcQ7iCMa8_CtP8_ND6fB0em0HDt8ghFC_wJrbfqvRYY/s200/IMG_4826.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254141818684667474" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">And if you can believe it she stuck around! So until she realizes she really is way to cute to be my friend I will enjoy every minute she gives me!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEija03ZbvhwX_vHoYGos8BZrAHJaPlyACf28AjcTUYkCC3-CF3Ex2gaRNSyTPx1UvgkVRRZh094AU_F7yz6tlGjFfx-3YB6rb6fnagrLBIudPJxTLY9ceE9rmNxKL-oTR2Rl9EFceGQmc8/s200/IMG_5016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254075772050610498" /></span></div>Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-12470012859479397122008-10-01T06:16:00.000-07:002008-10-01T06:48:41.129-07:00Lego Man ( sung to the weenie man camp song)<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">I have a Lego Man</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVF4M33Td101j5JcR8A5csO_w4jslP7zGfZWeyVjWORzmrPe64CTtNRNWwVBv5s2285-4DHeM-hYD-wvi3HHFvQHhW50Dr2yU-Eu9RTzJ5E09-EUYrJt79uIh-uBgGtzBWs-hAdDcxsyw/s200/IMG_5789.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252179455692023650" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">He has a Lego stand</span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHENbS2a1fObEAq1XqaZZtEDJwaPH9ez2hDs2cKqx9PyZ0ie-dsfkYHz5ixf48Nt2y6GBBTQwOkFl08B4lN2JeYqKItM-0H_62G1ervhGvwwqicn_t6EmJ2DCPzvk13X1UQ9MhJBywJ6Q/s1600-h/IMG_5787.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHENbS2a1fObEAq1XqaZZtEDJwaPH9ez2hDs2cKqx9PyZ0ie-dsfkYHz5ixf48Nt2y6GBBTQwOkFl08B4lN2JeYqKItM-0H_62G1ervhGvwwqicn_t6EmJ2DCPzvk13X1UQ9MhJBywJ6Q/s200/IMG_5787.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252179453104840498" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">He can build anything from Sponge Bob on down.</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRHZVTRL2N4flqGar38UuYTUsdYES0WofSS8fGa72eHOyX-b0FUpoCYwnhj5YnuW7f4t4y-6kWYcSqu7sIwfmPzmBv31CbClJAaVhT84whIyLYksqSOHZK-OB-gmwO8rstWIKf_WZhB5I/s200/IMG_5424.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252179464818532066" /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">One day he'll end my strife</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">And clean up his Lego life,</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaIk0QUDTEN26LzTXHn6NZ-H1lLPjgLMddZ8bf3idS9aLEGUyTjVAcmOzHoG5uBEuZ2mvQRaAkHJrofmrVhgyXyRHRzCs-WdfYmaIGEvn1jePeB5KKXWjWp9ZP16gS2YFshu10IIty6Wo/s200/IMG_5788.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252179459776751186" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Hot Dog! I love my Lego Man!</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxDF5EwWm0VoZjFFpsnT-g5ExQYdvMbGK690ritD4exB3wMZ4uPriQojxpWNNZITN0oENSVFpMttk0vHZMvTZmgX4KW1kKkqG3zNtftUNH1mNpVVoP-HhpEFmeya7CO5PnWw9vAIJ2rfw/s200/IMG_5735.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252179459929448754" /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-77386225415188345922008-09-27T19:21:00.000-07:002008-09-27T19:42:45.972-07:00I believe that blogging is my gift. It is beautifully wrapped with a hand tied silk bow on top. I have yet to open this gift and give it to myself, but it is there looking beautiful and waiting patiently for me. I aspire to untie the bow, lift the lid, unfold the various layers of tissue paper and present my self this gift. When? I can not say, that would spoil the surprise. But you will be rewarded for your patience.Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-87371858854425169832008-04-08T15:00:00.000-07:002008-04-08T15:06:54.083-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbjsvtdM116OHF5weO3Vj8TVMNv2Lx5TVCWDU93nfcaphVuI5L0WeaNPkjobhyphenhyphenM36IJvshP9nvIVKbmq0BVdXuhKRw19bjs1zI8eSmJYwfTT89_KEzwBeaW6Nr2J0l0OnE_oa-ijZJwQ/s1600-h/IMG_4974.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbjsvtdM116OHF5weO3Vj8TVMNv2Lx5TVCWDU93nfcaphVuI5L0WeaNPkjobhyphenhyphenM36IJvshP9nvIVKbmq0BVdXuhKRw19bjs1zI8eSmJYwfTT89_KEzwBeaW6Nr2J0l0OnE_oa-ijZJwQ/s320/IMG_4974.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186998074504440050" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My new Baby!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">After begging and pleading Jason finally decided that we could add a new addition to our little family. Jack is a Toy Rat Terrier born January 9, 2008. He weighs about 4 pounds and will get to be about 8 pounds total, and stand about 1 foot tall. He is finally sleeping through the night, and once in a while I can put him down when he is asleep and get something done. He takes a morning and afternoon nap and keeps my boys occupied when they get home from school. We are so excited to have him!</div>Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-23525196679342423012008-04-04T15:20:00.000-07:002008-04-04T17:09:03.270-07:00painting my house<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNU9ieU9K2GCmHEno8MgjhggmKjNBYP_8tZymhHSauvP7CHVQFc8ocTNwhglAHClmLIX4I_y_kDKKq-kqQ1QZX3E6k2jT5pafAYFZwu2CarCT0gDPRyD1I0RDMZua5iC8o1Vh6OK9euo/s1600-h/IMG_4823.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWNU9ieU9K2GCmHEno8MgjhggmKjNBYP_8tZymhHSauvP7CHVQFc8ocTNwhglAHClmLIX4I_y_kDKKq-kqQ1QZX3E6k2jT5pafAYFZwu2CarCT0gDPRyD1I0RDMZua5iC8o1Vh6OK9euo/s320/IMG_4823.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185519291494623458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mission Impossible</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The mission should you choose to accept it is to paint my entire front room/kitchen start to finish and rearrange all furniture, rewire an outlet, and rehang all decor in 5 days while Jason is gone on business.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Monday</div><div style="text-align: center;">7:30 am Jason is safely dropped off at airport and I am on my way to Lowe's</div><div style="text-align: center;">8:00 am I have purchased all paint and supplies and am heading home</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:30 am My boys and I have started tearing apart the house in an effort to prepare for paint</div><div style="text-align: center;">10:00 My accomplices Jodi, Kim, and Melissa arrive in their paint clothes and get to work</div><div style="text-align: center;">5:00 pm all painting is complete and left to dry</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Tuesday</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:00 am Melissa arrives and helps me rearrange all furniture including lifting a 40 gallon terrarium complete with agitated bearded dragon not once, not twice, but three times from room to room until we are finally happy with it's placement.</div><div style="text-align: center;">7:00pm Jodi, Kim and I throw a baby shower at Kim's house. I can't walk and have to sit the whole night and gorge on sugar.</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:00 pm Bill Ryan comes over to figure out how I messed up the wiring behind my T.V. I can hardly understand how I messed up the wiring between a T.V., Surround Sound receiver, DVD/VCR, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Xbox</span> 360. I mean it's not brain surgery!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Wednesday</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:00 am Kim prepares to rehang all photos, plaques, and misc. items while I rest and ice my feet. She also became Jason's #2 fan (I'm #1 of course) and helped me decide on what pieces of his art work should be displayed upstairs and where.</div><div style="text-align: center;">1:00 pm Melissa and I go to Office Max and decide on a new filing cabinet for Jason's office.</div><div style="text-align: center;">3:00 pm I begin assembly on filing cabinet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">4:00 stop assembly to go to parent teacher conferences where I find out that 2 out of 3 of my children are being sent to different specialists.</div><div style="text-align: center;">5:00 return to assembly of filing cabinet feeling like a failure as a mom.</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:00 pm drop screwdriver where I stand and go directly to bed cursing the filing cabinet which is still not finished, feeling like a failure as a mom, and fall into an exhausted sleep. I think I am still completely dressed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Thursday</div><div style="text-align: center;">10:00 am Finish the @#$$#@# filing cabinet and realize it weighs approximately 467 pounds and I assembled it in the living room instead of the kitchen where it needed to be.</div><div style="text-align: center;">4:00 pm after a day of cleaning Dede Ryan calls to remind me not to make dinner and come to the Blue and Gold Banquet instead.</div><div style="text-align: center;">6:00pm Eat dinner with the rest of the Scout's and their families as I try not to fall asleep in my plate of nachos.</div><div style="text-align: center;">8:00 pm Rick <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Seelos</span> arrives at my house to rewire my electrical and cable modem from one wall to another so that I can have the computer in the kitchen instead of the living room.</div><div style="text-align: center;">8:15 pm Rick has successfully punched a rectangle in my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sheet rock</span> and I am steam cleaning my blinds in the shower and hanging them wet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">8:45 pm Ricks drill <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">extension</span> breaks and I run to Lowe's to buy him a new one.</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:15 pm The new drill <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">extension</span> also breaks. Rick resorts to brute force by popping a screwdriver through wood with a lever system he created by hanging on a two by four and forcing the screwdriver up.</div><div style="text-align: center;">10:30 pm Rick is done and ready to see the back of this house forever. I finish hanging the remaining blinds and enjoy privacy for the first time since Monday morning. I apologize to everybody who saw me running around in my underwear.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Friday</div><div style="text-align: center;">8:00 am drop off children at school, buy Samuel and I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">McDonald's</span> breakfast, buy new frames at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Wal</span>-Mart for new artwork.</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:00 am Kim arrives to help me frame artwork and hang final pieces on the wall as well as put finishing touches on the house.</div><div style="text-align: center;">4:00 pm Showered and looking good I ride with Mike and Melissa to pick up Jason at the airport and take him to dinner. Melissa and I are trying not to pee our pants with excitement.</div><div style="text-align: center;">7:00pm Turning the corner to our house Melissa squeezes my hand and tells me how comfortable her couch is if I should need it.</div><div style="text-align: center;">7:05 pm Jason walks in and exclaims his surprise and approval of project.</div><div style="text-align: center;">8:00 pm I am struggling to keep my eyes open.</div><div style="text-align: center;">9:00 pm I am dead asleep and Jason is now hating the new project because I am too tired for any "fun"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Next time I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">receive</span> this kind of inspiration I may just let the message self destruct!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div></div>Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1247818306509946588.post-38116378781754701192008-02-12T13:01:00.000-08:002008-02-12T13:08:56.945-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iEd3WChZ6uRQIljEYU-T9AV3fgjFmJNeULGlmfzF9leeihNQXd-jbggNWNJUHrKc8INLVkFVjOtOQu3o0plTFXG8WkgHQyW0wDVfUW0UxBIMQNgu2jTvYaq0V5CuavufKXQPQtZA9Jg/s1600-h/IMG_4500.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iEd3WChZ6uRQIljEYU-T9AV3fgjFmJNeULGlmfzF9leeihNQXd-jbggNWNJUHrKc8INLVkFVjOtOQu3o0plTFXG8WkgHQyW0wDVfUW0UxBIMQNgu2jTvYaq0V5CuavufKXQPQtZA9Jg/s320/IMG_4500.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166203112065148738" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">My Family<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This was our Christmas card photo for 2007. Everybody is showered, shaved, and combed. Quite a feat for this brood. It didn't take long before snow was being thrown and all of that perfectly combed hair was askew. Oh well at least the picture is adorable.</div>Emily Hornehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04835880860258476130noreply@blogger.com5