<?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-469298743200052249</id><updated>2012-01-26T19:21:49.707-05:00</updated><category term='Mashburn Elementary'/><category term='Forsyth County'/><category term='teachers'/><title type='text'>Hardin Hive</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>74</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8751753839380570940</id><published>2009-07-06T22:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T22:26:00.493-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Independence Day</title><content type='html'>The kids really wanted to go to the local parade this year for the 4th of July.  But Matthew and I vetoed the idea since it's a steam engine parade and 4/5 of children scream when they hear loud noises.  So I suggested we have a parade of our own.  they weren't thrilled at the idea at first and then Kendall confessed that what they really wanted was to catch candy.  Once I guaranteed them candy to throw they were all for it.  They spent the day decorating their bikes.  And then that evening our good friends the Hatches came for a cook out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2171.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2171.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2173.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2173.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2176.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2176.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the parade we headed over to one of the parks on Lake Lanier just down the street.  As we got their Kendall lost another tooth.  Rebecca joked that Kendall's tooth had declared it's independence from her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2212.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2212.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Lake we let the kids play in the sand and water until it was dark and then we had an excellent view of the Lake Lanier Islands' fireworks.  And the nice thing was that we were far enough away that no one screamed when they went off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2249.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2249.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2278.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2278.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8751753839380570940?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8751753839380570940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8751753839380570940&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8751753839380570940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8751753839380570940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2009/07/independence-day.html' title='Independence Day'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7283862235966328658</id><published>2009-07-04T16:09:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T16:15:58.712-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Cherries Did it Again</title><content type='html'>Dakotta was telling me the other day that the cherries painted her nails red.   The next day she ran into the room and yelled.  "Mom the cherries did it again."  Those mischievous little cherries.  No wonder Dakotta loves them so much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2139-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2139-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently they got her face too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2140-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2140-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 2 magic erasers we were finally able to find Dakotta under all that cherry juice.  (Not really)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7283862235966328658?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7283862235966328658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7283862235966328658&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7283862235966328658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7283862235966328658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2009/07/cherries-did-it-again.html' title='The Cherries Did it Again'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3627983382349423762</id><published>2009-07-02T22:42:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T23:30:48.905-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Soap Cheese</title><content type='html'>Some of my friends have been raving about this homemade laundry detergent so I thought I would give it a try.  The ingredients are Borox, Washing Soda and a bar of washing soap (after I finally located the one that was recommended to me I found out a bar of Ivory would have work as well).  I spent about $5 on ingredients and only used a small portion of that to make a 2 gallon batch of laundry detergent.     So it probably comes to about 50 cents per batch compared to  about $8 normally.  And anyone who know me, knows I love a bargain.  It's also environmentally friendly so I figured it was worth a try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's some pictures of the kids helping me make the detergent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2120-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2120-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elliott helping to grate the soap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2124-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2124-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna helping. (Please don't call the fashion police.  Didn't you know tights on top of leotards are all the rage with 4 year olds this summer? )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2128.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2128.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got down to the last little sliver to grate so I took over.  Unfortunately he was a little too eager to help and got this for it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2131.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2131.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grated soap.  Corinna said she wanted to put the cheese in and I explained it wasn't cheese.  She said, "But it looks like cheese."   I agreed that it was shaped like cheese and the color of cheese but it was really soap.  Not willing to admit she might be  wrong she declared it "SOAP CHEESE"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2135.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2135.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adding more ingredients. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=IMG_2136-1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/IMG_2136-1.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other people have told me this recipe takes 10 minutes.  I don't think they had as many helpers I did so it took me about 45.  I have washed my first load of laundry in it and so far I'm pleased.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3627983382349423762?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3627983382349423762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3627983382349423762&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3627983382349423762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3627983382349423762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2009/07/soap-cheese.html' title='Soap Cheese'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4832118459546449776</id><published>2009-03-06T13:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-06T14:20:33.321-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kid's Answers</title><content type='html'>1. What is something mom always says to you?&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca (9):  Go. (go brush your teeth, go do your homework, go get your shoes and socks on)&lt;br /&gt;Kendall:  (6):  "Kendall!"&lt;br /&gt;Corinna (3):  I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta (3):  I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;Elliott (23 months):  Mama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  What makes mom happy?&lt;br /&gt;R:  A day off.&lt;br /&gt;K:  Hugs &amp;amp; kisses.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Saying, "Please."&lt;br /&gt;D:  Love on sumpfing.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  What makes mom sad?&lt;br /&gt;R:  When Kids destroy things/&lt;br /&gt;K:  Hitting and kicking her.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Yelling.&lt;br /&gt;D:  When her eyes get red.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  How does your mom make you laugh?&lt;br /&gt;R:  Her jokes.&lt;br /&gt;K:  Tickling.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Silly&lt;br /&gt;D: Being silly.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  What was your mom like as a child?&lt;br /&gt;R:  A ballerina/granola girl.&lt;br /&gt;K:  A ballerina.&lt;br /&gt;C:  family.&lt;br /&gt;D:  FAMILY!!!&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  How old is your mom?&lt;br /&gt;R: 35&lt;br /&gt;K:  34/35&lt;br /&gt;D: 3&lt;br /&gt;C: 6&lt;br /&gt;D: No 8&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  How tall is your mom?&lt;br /&gt;R:  5 or 6 feet&lt;br /&gt;K:  8 feet&lt;br /&gt;C: Big as a giant.&lt;br /&gt;D:  This tall (reaches her hands way over her head).&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. What is her favorite thing to watch on TV?&lt;br /&gt;R:  LOST&lt;br /&gt;C:  Mickey Mouse Clubhouse&lt;br /&gt;D:  Princess and the Pauper&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9:  What does your mom do when you're not around?&lt;br /&gt;R: Clean.&lt;br /&gt;K: Be on the computer&lt;br /&gt;C:  Stuff up in your room.&lt;br /&gt;D:  I will get lost.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?&lt;br /&gt;R:  How many kids she can keep track of.&lt;br /&gt;K:  Ballerina&lt;br /&gt;C:  All the stuff.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  What is your mom really good at?&lt;br /&gt;R: Reading&lt;br /&gt;K:  Taking care of the family&lt;br /&gt;C:  Doing all the stuff.&lt;br /&gt;D:  Drawing pictures on doodle pads.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.  What is your mom not very good at?&lt;br /&gt;R:  Getting Kendall up in the mornings.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Not doing stuff.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13:  What does your mom do for her job?&lt;br /&gt;R: Take care of everybody.&lt;br /&gt;K:  Take care of the family.&lt;br /&gt;C:  Make Birthday cakes.&lt;br /&gt;D:  Getting everyone milk and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. What is your mom's favorite food?&lt;br /&gt;R:  Pork and something else.&lt;br /&gt;K: Pizza!&lt;br /&gt;C:  Ramen noodles&lt;br /&gt;D:  Chicken nuggets.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15:  What makes you proud of your mom?&lt;br /&gt;R:  She doesn't embarrass me.&lt;br /&gt;K:  She takes care of me.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16:  If your mom was a cartoon character, who would she be?&lt;br /&gt;R:  A MOM&lt;br /&gt;K:  hmmmmm&lt;br /&gt;C:  Melissa&lt;br /&gt;D:  Goofy&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.  What do you and your mom do together?&lt;br /&gt;R:  Talk&lt;br /&gt;K:  Help each other&lt;br /&gt;C:  We do stuff we want to do.&lt;br /&gt;D:  Go to Disney World.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18:  How are you and your mom the same?&lt;br /&gt;R:  We both did ballet/&lt;br /&gt;K:  We both have brown hair.&lt;br /&gt;D:  We're different&lt;br /&gt;C:  Dakotta is the same as me.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19:  How are you and your mom different?&lt;br /&gt;R:  She's older than me.&lt;br /&gt;K:  I have brown eyes and she has blue.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20:  How do you know your mom loves you? &lt;br /&gt;R:  Cuz she tells me all the time.&lt;br /&gt;K:  She takes care of me.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. What does your mom like most about your dad?&lt;br /&gt;R:  He's nice.&lt;br /&gt;K:  He works.&lt;br /&gt;C:  He's handsome as a prince.&lt;br /&gt;D:  He's handsome as a Eeyore dad.&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  Where is your mom's favorite place to go?&lt;br /&gt;R:  Utah.&lt;br /&gt;K:  Kari's house&lt;br /&gt;C:  Kari's house&lt;br /&gt;D:  Disney World&lt;br /&gt;E:  Mama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked Kendall and Rebecca separately but the 3 little ones I asked at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-4832118459546449776?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4832118459546449776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4832118459546449776&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4832118459546449776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4832118459546449776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2009/03/kids-answers.html' title='Kid&apos;s Answers'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-900962870503268277</id><published>2008-12-23T09:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T10:02:26.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>When I put my blog address on our Christmas cards 3 weeks ago I had every intention of updating my Blog with a very nice "Christmas Newsletter."  However it's been quite a crazy month here at the Hive and not just your normal December crazy.  We're in the process of refinancing our house, in the midst of that we found a leak in a pipe above the living room,  we got a plumber to fix it but then Matthew had to repair the ceiling,  he also discovered a hole in the dryer vent and had to repair that as well.  And of course the part of the ceiling that had to be repaired required us taking down our ceiling fan and light fixture, which required the power to be shut down in the living room. And did I mention it was also right by the Christmas tree,  the same tree that has a already toppled over more than once.  So it's been a rather frustrating month and all the things originally on my to do list have been pushed further and further down the list.   In the grand scheme of things  really it's just life but with the fact that this year I volunteered to invite my entire family for Christmas day it's been a bit overwhelming, to say the least.  We're grateful to friends and family who helped us out,  Matthew's friend John and Papa Hardin came to help Matthew install the drywall and Lettitia and Justin were nice enough to let me sic my kids on them for the day so that they could get out of the way of the project.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it's 2 days before Christmas, tomorrow we'll be gone most the day, and the next day we're expecting close to 40 people here.  So now I'm off to knock out my to do list with hopes that there are no more surprises.  Wishing y'all a Joyful Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-900962870503268277?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/900962870503268277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=900962870503268277&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/900962870503268277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/900962870503268277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-890348790263749439</id><published>2008-11-06T22:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T22:48:11.722-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teachers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mashburn Elementary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Forsyth County'/><title type='text'>Shout Out to Awesome Teachers</title><content type='html'>As the Thanksgiving season is upon us I have a lot of things for which to be grateful,  but one thing that keeps coming back to me is how blessed we have been by our children's teachers since we've moved here.   For the girls sake, I don't want to go into too many specifics but they've both had their share of struggles academically.  The teacher's have always been very open to communicate with us and to provide whatever resources they could for us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep hearing from other's about "one size fits all" teaching and I can honestly say that has been the furthest from our experience these past 3 years.  I know each of these teacher's has gone out of her way to adapt the classroom and teaching to my specific kid and her needs.   All of them have communicated with me openly and freely and what I love most is that they always come to me with a solution already in mind.  Eveen when they have felt stumped they've mentioned that they would talk to the other teacher's in the grade for helpful ideas.  They've been willing to listen to any of my concerns and to act on the things we've discussed quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't express enough what a blessing and a relief it is to send my kids to school and know that whatever struggles they have that day they have someone at school who I know is in their corner routing for them.  It's made an amazing difference.  It fills my heart when Kendall comes home telling me how she did and I know it's a direct result of her teacher showering her with positive reinforcement and encouragement.  Or when Rebecca comes home telling me of something she learned or accomplished and I know it's because of a teacher that has repeatedly demonstrated that she knows Rebecca can do it even when she might not be sure of it herself.   Not only has it made a world of difference academically but socially and emotionally as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just want to give a big but inadequate THANK YOU to Mrs. Morea, Mrs. Proctor,  Mrs. Jensen, Ms. Buchwald, Ms. Keiffer, Ms. Heard, Ms. Hurst and all the teachers that support them.  I couldn't have asked for better teachers for my children if I had hand picked them myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-890348790263749439?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/890348790263749439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=890348790263749439&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/890348790263749439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/890348790263749439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/11/shout-out-to-awesome-teachers.html' title='Shout Out to Awesome Teachers'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8248402772519921341</id><published>2008-11-03T23:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T23:44:14.781-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Poor Neglected Blog</title><content type='html'>Well sometimes something has to give and lately it's been this Blog.  Matthew has been hounding me to post something for sometime.  I was a little busy getting ready for Disney World and Halloween and then I came home to a broken computer.  I have lots I wanted to share but it's just not the same without my pictures which I don't have easy access to at the moment.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids have been busy with school and all their other activities.  The 3 younger girls are loving their dance classes and thanks to the Lego catalog I can now at least picture what it is that Rebecca does every Friday at Robotics club.  We had teacher conferences the week before our trip and both girls are doing well in school.  They both struggle with the same concept (spelling/ sight words)  which I'm thinking must be a genetic thing.  Both teachers are perfect fits for each of the girls and we feel like we've hit the teacher jack pot since we moved to this school district.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to our trip I got the idea to make outfits for the girls to wear to Disney.  So, much to Matthew's delight after 2 lonely years I finally pulled out the sewing machine.  I've been having lots of fun with it.  So far I've made each of the girls a dress for Disney and a Halloween dress and a vampire cape for Elliott.  My next project is scrubs for the kids and Christmas gifts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Papa completed the Play House and the kids are loving.  Matthew has decided it's not bright enough in there so has been digging up the yard and laying cable so that it will have electricity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our trip to Disney was fun and exhausting.  The twins had a hard time sleeping and it made for far more tantrums than we expected.  Despite that we had a good time.  Some of the highlights were probably getting to see the twins ride their first roller coaster, Rebecca overcoming her fears and being more adventurous in her rides (she actually road Everest),  Kendall meeting Tigger and bouncing with him,  having dinner with Matthew's friends,  and meeting up with some of my online friends.   We stayed in the Fort Wilderness cabins and we loved it.  I would love to go back there for a week and spend half the time just at the campground and half the time in the parks.  In fact someone told me that they've even stayed at the campgrounds and not even gone into the parks.  It really was a great place to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of funny things.  My brother Benjamin let us borrow his TomTom (GPS) for the trip.  Well the kids didn't know what to think of it and Dakotta would start to argue with it.  The TomTom would say "Turn Right"  and she would retort "We already turned right."  Then one day we got of the boat launch at the Magic Kingdom and Corinna says "Turn left and then turn left"  just like the TomTom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the automatic flushers were quite the issue.  Corinna and Dakotta caught on quickly that you have to hold your hand over the sensor.  So we'd walk into the stall and they'd take turns holding the sensor for each other.   Kendall on the other hand didn't trust them with this most important job and insisted that I was the only one responsible enough to cover the sensor for her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elliott got to spend the weekend with his cousins and Uncle Stephen and Aunt Shelene.  He seemed to have a great time and came home barking whenever he sees a picture of an animal.  And he even got to sing in church with them during the Primary program.  His sisters were not happy with us for leaving him home but I think he had a great time and am pretty sure Matthew and I couldn't have handled all 5 of them without some help.  I'm sure they will be sure to let Elliott know that they all begged mom and dad to take them but we were the mean ogres that didn't bring him to Disney. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well maybe someday I'll have my computer working and will be able to update with some of the hundreds of pictures I've taken this month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8248402772519921341?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8248402772519921341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8248402772519921341&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8248402772519921341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8248402772519921341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-poor-neglected-blog.html' title='My Poor Neglected Blog'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4494950360698783878</id><published>2008-09-09T19:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T21:13:26.891-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Odd Tuesday Update</title><content type='html'>Here's what's up with with the Hive:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matthew is working as hard as always.  When he's not working or keeping up with his fantasy football leagues he's been making plans to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;implement&lt;/span&gt; phase 2 of the backyard landscaping project.   If if his estimations are correct we'll be getting twice as much dirt this go round.  So if anyone likes a good mud fight give us a call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me I'm living for Tuesdays thesee days. It's when I  get to leave the house for 4 hours without any kids!!!  The babysitter, Sara, is great and sometimes even manages to get a little housework done while I'm gone.  In the past 6 weeks since she's started, I've gotten my hair done, (way overdue)  started reading again,  become obsessive about saving money at the grocery store,  and even started a craft project.  I'm also teaching the Sunbeams (3-4 class) at church.   I think the Bishopric thought they were being clever when they asked me to teach that class but I'm not sure the fact that I will have 2 kids in that class come the first of the year is just a coincidence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; got a job.  Well technically I think it's an internship since she's not getting paid.  Her teacher told them at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;beginning&lt;/span&gt; of the year that anyone wanting a class job would need to apply and be interviewed for the position.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; was worried because she wanted the secretary position but so did most the class.  She filled out her application and had to get a letter of recommendation.  The teacher's husband interviewed her and said she seemed perfect for the job.  She came home beaming the day she got the news.  I just hope she still has energy for her organizing projects at home after a hard days work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall is enjoying 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; grade. Her exuberance kind of made for a rocky start to the year but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;her&lt;/span&gt; teacher is great and they came up with some helpful ways to remind her to stay on track.  She's worked hard the past few weeks and ended up getting the Blue Bear award for her class for her effort.  She also got a perfect score on her very first spelling test which is quite remarkable considering a family history of pour &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;spellars&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna is now daytime toilet trained and will even sometimes wake up dry in the mornings.  She insists on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wearing&lt;/span&gt; her "pretty panties"  the minute she gets up.   She loves being a big girl and is always volunteering to be mommy and daddy's helper.   She continues to be bossy and we are working on toning her down a bit.  She's also quite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; and gets upset when her curly hair dries because  she prefers it long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; has also been making progress in the toilet training, she's been wearing panties mostly with an occasional accident but I'm planing on how to spend the extra diaper money once they're completely trained.   I've decided that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; will either be an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;architect&lt;/span&gt; or a pro wrestler when she grows up.  She can spend hours with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Legos&lt;/span&gt;, in the sand box or any other type of building project (cardboard boxes, couch cushions, canned vegetables).  When she's not doing that she's bulldozing her family members.  Apparently the 9 months of abuse she inflicted on Corinna is a lifetime addiction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as much as I hate to admit it Elliott is starting to be quite the little boy.  He's really learning a lot of words lately and it's funny to me how much of a gender leaning there is (ball, car, (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ba&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;nana&lt;/span&gt;, cracker, cookie, more, milk).  Yes the boy likes to eat.  There are nights that he out eats all of his sisters.  I hacked his hair off yesterday but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;luckily&lt;/span&gt; his natural good looks make up for the botched hairdo.  And one of the bonuses of me teaching the Sunbeams is that he got to start in the church nursery early.  The teacher says he's doing really well but then a room full of other kids and toys &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;strewn&lt;/span&gt; around, some singing and snacks isn't that different than home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-4494950360698783878?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4494950360698783878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4494950360698783878&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4494950360698783878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4494950360698783878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/09/some-odd-tuesday-update.html' title='Some Odd Tuesday Update'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-67872978637329184</id><published>2008-08-30T12:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T12:39:17.698-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Matthew!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/78a350b5.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=78a350b5.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-67872978637329184?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/67872978637329184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=67872978637329184&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/67872978637329184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/67872978637329184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-birthday-matthew.html' title='Happy Birthday Matthew!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7550514786695273832</id><published>2008-08-17T22:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T22:44:55.973-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 9th Birthday Rebecca</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/9a3333b7.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=3" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=9a3333b7.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7550514786695273832?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7550514786695273832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7550514786695273832&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7550514786695273832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7550514786695273832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-9th-birthday-rebecca.html' title='Happy 9th Birthday Rebecca'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6648679032433736038</id><published>2008-08-12T22:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:45:42.464-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Walk in the Woods</title><content type='html'>Since Saturday was such a beautiful day and the girls were getting ready to head back to school we decided to go do something fun.  We ended up just a few miles from our house below the Buford Dam and took a hike on one of the trails by the Chatahoochee River.  We had taken the kids on a hike on the West side of the River a few weeks ago so this time we decided to try the East side.  Corinna and Dakotta were funny because they would yell "Bear" and start running.  And one point Dakotta said. "Whew! We made it past the grumpy bear!"  On the return trip Rebecca said she though a particular mound of dirt was what they thought was the bear.  Then when we stopped on a bridge for a rest Corinna started to do arabesques using the bridge railing as a barre.  She looked like a little ballerina with her hair pulled back and dressed all in pink.  Rebecca dubbed her, "The Hiking Ballerina."  Towards the end Rebecca was offering piggy back rides to her sisters.  At first Dakotta took advantage of the offer but when she was rested Kendall decided to hop on.   About that time I decided to let Elliott walk himself.  He didn't understand the concept of a trail and would immediately walk right off the path.  It was funny to watch him climb all sorts of obstacles just to do it HIS way instead of what everyone else was doing.  When we got back to the dam the were getting ready to release water so we hydrated ourselves and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/1e92e521.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;amp;type=3" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;amp;current=1e92e521.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-6648679032433736038?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6648679032433736038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6648679032433736038&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6648679032433736038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6648679032433736038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/08/walk-in-woods.html' title='A Walk in the Woods'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7614958171053349388</id><published>2008-08-12T21:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T22:00:43.945-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair Today... Gone Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>So part of our back to school preparations included getting hair cuts for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; and Kendall.  Both had enough that we should be able to donate.  They have both donated to Locks of Love in the past but this time we've decided to give it to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pantene's&lt;/span&gt; Beautiful Lengths.  Kendall cut off 9 inches and Rebecca's was so thick they put &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;her's&lt;/span&gt; in 2 pony tails and cut 11 inches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SKI_1l0MXbI/AAAAAAAAAT8/OIoePsXp8y8/s1600-h/100_0072.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SKI_1l0MXbI/AAAAAAAAAT8/OIoePsXp8y8/s320/100_0072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233815906874580402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SKI_1_7hCVI/AAAAAAAAAUE/EwhztcOekQU/s1600-h/100_0074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SKI_1_7hCVI/AAAAAAAAAUE/EwhztcOekQU/s320/100_0074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233815913884617042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7614958171053349388?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7614958171053349388/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7614958171053349388&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7614958171053349388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7614958171053349388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/08/hair-today-gone-tomorrow.html' title='Hair Today... Gone Tomorrow'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SKI_1l0MXbI/AAAAAAAAAT8/OIoePsXp8y8/s72-c/100_0072.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-9002286344471554858</id><published>2008-08-12T20:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T21:17:30.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My House is a Circus</title><content type='html'>So the other day while my mom was visiting I was going through some old premie clothes for my brother Stepehen's foster baby.  While I was looking through bags of old clothes I came across a little lion costume.  I commented that it was cute but that Elliott would probably be too big for it by Halloween.  Apparently Rebecca tackled him and put it on him and the next thing I know all the kids were scrounging through the dress up clothes for circus costumes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/bf3987cf.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=3" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=bf3987cf.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-9002286344471554858?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/9002286344471554858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=9002286344471554858&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/9002286344471554858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/9002286344471554858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-house-is-circus.html' title='My House is a Circus'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-1696562946641586648</id><published>2008-07-29T22:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T22:55:05.719-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Art Education</title><content type='html'>The twins and I were looking at a book that had a picture of THE MONA LISA in it.  As they do with everything else, one of them pointed to the picture and asked, "Whose that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I replied, "The Mona Lisa"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which Dakotta declared, "She's grumpy"  and quickly turned the page.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking we may keep their art education to Little Einsteins for a bit longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-1696562946641586648?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/1696562946641586648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=1696562946641586648&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1696562946641586648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1696562946641586648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/07/art-education.html' title='Art Education'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8995594144289219569</id><published>2008-07-17T20:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T20:13:46.651-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Problem Solving:  3 Year Old Style</title><content type='html'>So yesterday Corinna was eager to go out and play in the sandbox but I was still getting breakfast for everyone, so she took it upon herself to get dressed.  She came down stairs with a long corduroy shirt and some long pants.  She brings them to me and asks me to help her get dressed.  I look down at what she's picked out and say, "Corinna you can't wear those, they're too hot."  She gets very mad and throws them down on a kitchen chair and exclaims "But they're not hot."  Dakotta, who had witnessed the whole exchange decides to take matters into her own hands.  She walks over to the clothes, blows on them a few times, hands them back to Corinna and says, "They're not hot anymore."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8995594144289219569?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8995594144289219569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8995594144289219569&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8995594144289219569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8995594144289219569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/07/problem-solving-3-year-old-style.html' title='Problem Solving:  3 Year Old Style'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2423186640912325893</id><published>2008-07-06T21:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-06T21:50:49.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Best Laid Plans</title><content type='html'>So the backyard is coming right along but we've had a few bumps in the road.  First, even though we're in a drought, we have the biggest mosquitoes I have ever seen.  At night we put out citronella candles and lanterns but they only seem to help a little.  And certain members of my family (me included)  will be eaten alive within minutes of being outside if we forget to put on bug repellent.  I finally convinced Matthew to put up a bat box.  He actually opted to buy one instead of building it himself, but he'll still have the privilege of mounting it.  So we've taken some temporary measures until our bat box arrives but are really hoping that we'll get us some bats soon to take care of our little mosquito problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well then after Corinna uprooted all of Rebecca's vegetable plants and then used Matthew's flower bed as a sandbox Matthew decided that he wouldn't wait until the playhouse was finished to build them a real sandbox.  Now mind you, Meme has been begging us to take a plastic "boat"  sandbox but of course Matthew turned his nose up at that because his kids need a proper sandbox.  So last week he selected the perfect spot and started leveling out a spot, except he didn't realize that a bunch of yellow jackets also thought it was a perfect spot.  And of course this made our backyard pretty much useless for our 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July cook out with his family.  So after watching the fireworks we came home to do a little exterminating.  Not the most fun thing to do when you're allergic to them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway it appeared we successfully got rid of the nest under the sandbox and Matthew was able to finish the project.  But now the rest of our yard is covered in them and we can't seem to find another nest.  He spent hours the past two days trying to find the nest with no luck.  So if anyone knows any ideas on how to get rid of the yellow jackets when you don't know where the nest is, we're all open for suggestions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2423186640912325893?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2423186640912325893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2423186640912325893&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2423186640912325893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2423186640912325893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/07/best-laid-plans.html' title='Best Laid Plans'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-1236362794665254360</id><published>2008-06-29T16:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-29T17:09:59.874-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Check  Ups</title><content type='html'>Well in the past 2 weeks 4 of my kids have had check ups.  Last week I was able to get a sitter and take just the twins but Monday I wasn't so lucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I had to take all of them. I had scheduled check ups for Kendall and Elliott but ended asking them if they could squeeze Rebecca for a follow up on some stomach issues she's been having. We get everyone weighed and measured and they ask Kendall for a urine sample. So we take trip #1 which of course means they all tag along because no one wants to be left alone in the exam room.  (Luckily they were handicap restrooms). Then Kendall freaks out about the toilet (she has a fear of public toilets). I finally convince her to sit on the toilet. 5 minutes later. NOTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the exam room waiting for the doctor Corinna busts her lip playing hopscotch (they have a board painted on the floor tiles). Then the big girls get a kick out of pretending to page the doctor at the doctor's office.  Apparently the irony of getting hurt in the doctor's office was not lost on them.  Nothing like a minor injury to amuse one's siblings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally the doctor comes in with a resident which was good thinking (although a bit crammed) since one is able to examing each of the 2 kids for the check ups. But apparently there wasn't enough going on during the exams so Dakotta bites Corrina.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the doctor asks for a urine sample for Rebecca.  Which resulted in trip #2 to the bathroom.  Rebecca pees in the cup. Since we're there I have Kendall try.   Still NOTHING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at the exam room we're greeted by the nurse ready to give Elliott a shot. I thought the poor woman was going to melt from all the evil glares she got from my girls. It was a good thing it was only one shot because I seriously doubt she would have been able to get to the 2nd before they mounted a protest.  They all hovered over him with hugs and kisses when it was done. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then as I'm packing them all up Kendall announces quite frantically  "I have to go to the bathroom" while doing that signature dance that every mother knows all to well.   I finally sent her and Rebecca for trip #3 thinking it was a wasted effort but not wanting to take any chances. Then while I'm checking out Rebecca comes out of the bathroom to report Kendall actually peed in the cup.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best news of the day was that now all my children are officially on the growth charts.  WOOT.   Elliott is now weighing in at 20lbs putting him in the 3%.   The way he eats I suspect he'll be caught up to Corinna,, who only weighs 25lb in no time.   The one nice thing about this go round of having a small baby is that when I told them I wasn't worried and to look at my other kids they actually listebed and didn't make an issue about it.   Oh the benefits of experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-1236362794665254360?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/1236362794665254360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=1236362794665254360&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1236362794665254360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1236362794665254360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/06/check-ups.html' title='Check  Ups'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-1970873408132111691</id><published>2008-06-19T13:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-19T13:55:20.229-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Take on Playing Chicken</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_9702.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-1970873408132111691?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/1970873408132111691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=1970873408132111691&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1970873408132111691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1970873408132111691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-take-on-playing-chicken.html' title='A New Take on Playing Chicken'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-5659848217066806755</id><published>2008-06-03T22:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T22:02:31.440-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Baby is  Walking</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_9596.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-5659848217066806755?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/5659848217066806755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=5659848217066806755&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5659848217066806755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5659848217066806755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/06/my-baby-is-walking.html' title='My Baby is  Walking'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-5361506386795560752</id><published>2008-05-14T22:38:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T23:25:45.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Grocery Store Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Objective&lt;/span&gt;:  Get home with all the items on your grocery list, preferably unopened and in one piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Players&lt;/span&gt;:  You,  1 set of 3 year old twins  and a 1 year old.  (Do not let them convince you that they are your team mates,  they have their own objectives).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What you need to play&lt;/span&gt;:  one grocery cart with a plastic car attached to the front.   Since you have 3 kids you  will need the ones with 2 seats in the car and 2 seats in the basket.   If your area is like mine their is probably only one store that has this cart and will require you to pay a membership to shop there.  Once you've found a store that carries this cart you may need to circle the parking lot multiple times to actually find one in a cart corral.  If that doesn't work, watch the front door and stalk any carts that come out.  Then try to discretely park near this other mom and offer to take her cart for her.  If she mentions how popular they are try not to mention that they are the only cart you can use for your 3 children.  You especially shouldn't do this while giving her and her 5 year old laser beam glares because the child wasn't even IN the cart.  Now once you've procured the cart, if you find them without any functioning belt buckles consider yourself elevated to the EXPERT level of the game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How to play:  &lt;/span&gt;Take your list and begin to navigate your way through the store selecting your items.  Every 3 minutes you must stop and have all the children with you rotate positions.  Possible positions include, the 2 seats in the car,  the 2 seats by the handle,  in the basket of the cart,  your 2 hips,  or walking beside you (since your 1 year old is not walking this will not be an option for him).   You must stop at any sample stations.  You must answer the questions, "Are they twins?"  "Are they identical?"  "Are they all yours?"  pleasantly without letting on that the inquirer is not the first person to ask you.  You are not required to stop when someone says, "You've got your hands full"  but should smile and nod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Bonus Round:&lt;/span&gt;  You may bypass the bonus round by getting in the cashier line.  If you wish to play this round you must use the self scan line while keeping an eye on all the children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How the Game is Scored:&lt;/span&gt; Points are given for every item on your list that successfully makes it home.  Points will be deducted for every item you make it home with that was NOT on your list.  Extra points will be given for staying under budget.  Extra points will also be earned for each coupon used.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that you know the rules, who wants to play?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-5361506386795560752?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/5361506386795560752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=5361506386795560752&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5361506386795560752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5361506386795560752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/05/grocery-store-game.html' title='The Grocery Store Game'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6679742379086731479</id><published>2008-05-11T22:48:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T23:15:03.051-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playhouse Progress</title><content type='html'>Papa Hardin has been working diligently on the &lt;a href="http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/playhouse-progress.html"&gt;playhouse&lt;/a&gt; for the girls so I thought I would post some more recent pictures.  The girls are already loving it they've moved some table and chairs in there for tea parties and such.  I think they enjoy having Papa Hardin more.   I think they'll be a little sad when he finishes because he won't be coming over as often.  I guess they'll have to invite him for tea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCeyEz8XT-I/AAAAAAAAATc/NbWH5w4ctdc/s1600-h/100_9523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCeyEz8XT-I/AAAAAAAAATc/NbWH5w4ctdc/s320/100_9523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199320090555142114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCeyFT8XT_I/AAAAAAAAATk/4ybHMZCykd4/s1600-h/100_9532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCeyFT8XT_I/AAAAAAAAATk/4ybHMZCykd4/s320/100_9532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199320099145076722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An in addition to the playhouse, he and Meme gave the kids a set of Monkey bars that attached to the &lt;a href="http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/01/thank-you-meme-and-papa.html"&gt;swing set&lt;/a&gt; they got for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCe1lT8XUAI/AAAAAAAAATs/UQ084yTTaQg/s1600-h/100_9524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCe1lT8XUAI/AAAAAAAAATs/UQ084yTTaQg/s320/100_9524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199323947435773954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCe1lz8XUBI/AAAAAAAAAT0/V-7vtS-Z4S4/s1600-h/100_9531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCe1lz8XUBI/AAAAAAAAAT0/V-7vtS-Z4S4/s320/100_9531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199323956025708562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My goal is to make my backyard more fun than inside so that they only want to come in to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-6679742379086731479?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6679742379086731479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6679742379086731479&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6679742379086731479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6679742379086731479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/05/playhouse-progress.html' title='Playhouse Progress'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/SCeyEz8XT-I/AAAAAAAAATc/NbWH5w4ctdc/s72-c/100_9523.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6457818014642220101</id><published>2008-05-08T10:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-08T11:25:24.571-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Econ 101</title><content type='html'>This morning while getting ready for school Kendall,  Rebecca and I had an interesting discussion on economics.  Matthew had been up most the night working from home.  Some of the things he does have to be done at their client's least busy times, which usually means about 3am.  Well because he got to bed so late he wasn't going to be able to take the girls to the bus stop like he usually does.  First they wanted to know if he was staying home the whole day.  I said he'd probably go in to work after lunch.  Then Rebecca wanted to know if he still got paid for the full day.   I assured her he would because he could count the hours in the middle of the night he worked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Kendall wanted asked what he did.  They know one of his company's biggest clients are Hasbro Toys so I used them as the example.  Telling them that if people wanted to buy toys that DH writes the programs so they can go to Hasbro's  website to buy stuff (actually DH doesn't do this for Hasbro but it was more for illustration purposes and I knew that would sound cooler than saying he wrote programs for the American Medical Association).  I explained that people picked the items they wanted out online, paid with a credit card and then the people at daddy's office shipped the items to the customer.  Thanks to Webkinz they seemed pretty familiar with the concept of an online shopping cart.  Then Kendall's eyes lit up and said, "So the more things people buy,  the more money daddy makes."  I didn't have the heart to tell her that the more things people buy the more money daddy's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;company &lt;/span&gt;makes.  Rebecca wanted to know if all the money went to the toy store or if the credit card company got any of it.  I explained that the toy company probably paid the credit card company a small fee, like around $3 for every $100.  Then Rebecca began to explain to Kendall that they take the money from your credit card but you have to pay the credit card for it and if you didn't pay for it all one time you'd have to pay EXTRA.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell you it was conversation to make their frugal mother proud.  Next thing I know they'll be asking about 401Ks and mutual funds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-6457818014642220101?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6457818014642220101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6457818014642220101&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6457818014642220101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6457818014642220101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/05/econ-101.html' title='Econ 101'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8313497296451000458</id><published>2008-05-07T16:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T16:44:35.222-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Granny Lives in a Circle</title><content type='html'>My mom lives in a town called Social Circle.   The other day I was busy and I heard the following conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Granny lives in a Circle&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Yeah but we live in a square.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta :  With Rectangle doors. &lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Yeah with rectangle doors.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Yeah we don't live in a circle.&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  No, Granny lives in a circle&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  We live in a square. &lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Yeah we live in a square with rectangle doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't get it at first but my mom finally put the pieces together for me.  We've had the different variations of the same conversation a lot this past week.  Apparently the play house is a triangle house.  Today, Dakotta said she wanted to live in a circle with Granny.  I hope she's not disappointed the next time we go to visit her when she realizes the house is just another square house.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8313497296451000458?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8313497296451000458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8313497296451000458&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8313497296451000458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8313497296451000458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/05/granny-lives-in-circle.html' title='Granny Lives in a Circle'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-5018418236045265617</id><published>2008-05-01T09:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T10:56:43.797-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Friends in My Computer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blogger.com/%5BIMG%5Dhttp://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_9375a.jpg%5B/IMG%5D"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.blogger.com/%5BIMG%5Dhttp://i169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_9375a.jpg%5B/IMG%5D" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend Matthew and I had a chance to go to Charleston, South Carolina to meet some friends from a twins message board I've been on for almost 3 years.  As someone else noted, it really is a weird feeling to walk into a room of "strangers"  and know their life stories.  They really are an amazing group of people and have really been my sanity in the past few years.  The thing about being a mom of multiples is that it in the early years it can really be quite isolating.   It really is very hard to get out and do the things that people with 1 kid or kids spaced out better can do.  But if you know me you know how I crave interaction and preferably some of that needs to be adult conversation.   At first I joined to read about how they dealt with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bed rest&lt;/span&gt;, nursing twins,  getting them on the same schedule and things like that.  Eventually my needs changed and we discuss things like religion, global warming and what should I cook for dinner.   They've celebrated my kids milestones and cried with me through my trials.   They've kept me engaged in what's going on in the world and given me a release when things were too much in my own little world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Matthew wasn't quite sure what he was getting into when he agreed to go.  But he wasn't so sure about letting me go alone either.  And we both really needed some time away from kids and work.  He's always been very supportive of me and in fact was the one who finally convinced me it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; to actually post instead of lurking on their discussions.  I think he realized that they were a great resource but I don't think he really understood the magnitude of these friendships until this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now when I told people we were meeting a bunch of twins parents I think they thought it would  some sort of conference with seminars on parenting twins.  But it really was just a chance to not be "parents" for a weekend.  We hung out on the beach, played games, toured Charleston,  did some shopping, lots of eating and basically just enjoying each other's company. And really we spent very little time talking about kids.   Matthew and I both pointed out how simple chores like doing dishes and taking out trash didn't seem like work when we didn't have kids climbing on us or whining at us while we did it (and it helped that someone else cooked the meal).  It was just so great to be Melissa for a few days and not Mom.  Matthew and I didn't even spend that much alone time together but I think he enjoyed seeing me be myself for a few days and not just the mother of his children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's not to say I didn't miss my kids.  I had been so worried about leaving them and how best to do that.  5 kids seemed too much for my mom but I'm not sure I wanted to split them up either.  I finally decided to leave my mom with the girls and Elliott got to go hang out with his cousins at Stephen and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shelene's&lt;/span&gt; house.  And despite all but Kendall getting sick while I was gone, they seemed to have survived and hopefully there's no permanent damage. In the end I  came home with  some even greater friendships,  a renewed energy and calmness to deal with my kids and a little more in love with my husband than before.  What more could one ask for from a vacation?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-5018418236045265617?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/5018418236045265617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=5018418236045265617&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5018418236045265617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5018418236045265617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/05/friends-in-my-computer.html' title='The Friends in My Computer'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-839487583484009471</id><published>2008-04-22T14:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T14:06:02.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 3rd Birthday,  Dakotta!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/8ff31335.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=3" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=8ff31335.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-839487583484009471?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/839487583484009471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=839487583484009471&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/839487583484009471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/839487583484009471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-3rd-birthday-dakotta.html' title='Happy 3rd Birthday,  Dakotta!!!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7791389081314308486</id><published>2008-04-22T14:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T14:04:33.997-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 3rd Birthday, Corinna!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/481a32cc.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=3" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=481a32cc.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7791389081314308486?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7791389081314308486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7791389081314308486&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7791389081314308486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7791389081314308486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-3rd-birthday-corinna.html' title='Happy 3rd Birthday, Corinna!!!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3731234161555908286</id><published>2008-04-19T23:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T23:49:28.267-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 6th Birthday Kendall !!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/ea3b230c.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=3" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=ea3b230c.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3731234161555908286?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3731234161555908286/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3731234161555908286&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3731234161555908286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3731234161555908286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/04/happy-6th-birthday-kendall.html' title='Happy 6th Birthday Kendall !!!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6766352536422651705</id><published>2008-03-28T23:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T23:52:01.411-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/dc368850.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=8" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=dc368850.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-6766352536422651705?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6766352536422651705/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6766352536422651705&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6766352536422651705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6766352536422651705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter-weekend.html' title='Easter Weekend'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2615630512646335074</id><published>2008-03-27T20:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T20:20:47.444-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sponge Bob Square Cracker</title><content type='html'>My kids love Ritz crackers. We buy them in bulk and go through them pretty quickly.  They call them circle crackers.  Well Ritz are fine if you want some cheese or peanut butter on them but for soups I prefer the good old saltines.  Tonight I opened a pack of saltines and the twins seemed really intrigued by these "new" crackers and, as they tend to do, they kept asking "What's this?"  And as is often the case, I go through different answers of the same question. "A cracker"  "A saltine"  " A square cracker"  So then Corinna asks me for the twelfth time "What's this?"  and before I can answer she sings "Sponge Bob Square &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cwackwer&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2615630512646335074?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2615630512646335074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2615630512646335074&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2615630512646335074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2615630512646335074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/sponge-bob-square-cracker.html' title='Sponge Bob Square Cracker'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-638031584729257281</id><published>2008-03-24T23:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T23:54:13.148-04:00</updated><title type='text'>FIRE!</title><content type='html'>Our chimney caught fire tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had just put the twins to bed when our neighbor called to tell us our chimney was on fire.   I immediately yelled at the big girls,who were downstairs, that there was a fire and to get out while I was grabbing the twins out of their beds. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; had been watching Elliott in the living room but we've always told her just to get herself out of the house so it took me a few seconds to find him. I had dropped the twins on the front porch to go get him and when I got out the door my girls were running to the meeting spot just like we've talked about.   The fire alarm went off right as I was walking out the door and that was just about the time I first smelled smoke. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had grabbed one blanket for Elliott and the twins were in thick &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pjs&lt;/span&gt; but poor Kendall was in short sleeves and no shoes. Luckily my neighbor came and we all headed back to her house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DH was on the phone with 911 as I was leaving (he was also looking for pants because he had just taken off his work pants when the neighbor called). Then he grabbed our 2 fire extinguishers and used both of them to put the fire out in the fireplace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The twins and Elliott thought it was exciting, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; cried that she didn't want kitty cat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;blankie&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;lambie&lt;/span&gt; to burn, Kendall cried about something or other. I kept telling them it was just the chimney and the important thing was that we were all safe. Then we watched from my neighbors house as 4 fire trucks, an ambulance, and the fire chief come blaring up to my house. There were no flames at this point. (Of course I now realize that my house is a total disaster from a very crazy weekend and now not only was the whole fire department running through it but now neighbors were stopping to check on things).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little bit later DH called us with the all clear. The house is a little smoky but it's more of a weird chemical smell from the fire extinguishers. We've had as many windows open as we could. Luckily the little ones went to bed pretty quickly. Kendall's sleeping on the sofa down here at the moment but I suspect it could be a long night with the big girls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was really scary but I keep telling them that they did everything right so that everyone is safe.  I'm so grateful that our school has a fire safety week because both girls had homework this past fall where we had to talk and practice all these things.  When we were doing this back then I realized that we hadn't picked a new spot since we moved here.  So I'm glad that we were prepared and I'm so proud that my girls did everything that we'd talked about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while I feel blessed that things turned out fine I'm sitting here still shaking and sick to my stomach because it's things like this that the reality of having 5 people so completely dependent on us is just so overwhelming. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  Check you smoke alarms and go over your fire plan with your kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-638031584729257281?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/638031584729257281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=638031584729257281&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/638031584729257281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/638031584729257281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/fire.html' title='FIRE!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8498130154765851622</id><published>2008-03-21T23:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T23:32:02.432-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Baby Boy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/01d093e0.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i169.photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow&amp;landing=/slideshows&amp;type=8" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=01d093e0.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8498130154765851622?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8498130154765851622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8498130154765851622&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8498130154765851622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8498130154765851622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-birthday-baby-boy.html' title='Happy Birthday Baby Boy!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4043138963790283195</id><published>2008-03-21T19:14:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T19:34:32.661-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Low</title><content type='html'>So today I actually resorted to vacuuming my children.  In the past few days they've figured out how to get into the basement.  That wouldn't be so bad because there's a playroom down there, but it's also where I keep my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;scrapbooking&lt;/span&gt; and stamping supplies.  I discovered them in my stuff and ordered them to put back a jar of glitter and herded them back upstairs.  Well apparently the sneaky little team smuggled it upstairs without me seeing their slight of hand.  (Things like this make me question if the concept of teamwork is as great as the Wonder Pets make it out to be).  A few minutes pass and I go to check on them and see them and my living room sparkling like the ruby slippers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this wasn't your basic craft glitter but my good (expensive) stamp glitter which is very fine.  A while back one of my older girls had opened the jar and just the little bit that she got out was all over Elliott's swing; for months my poor boy would sparkle in the right light.  So I immediately grabbed my new vacuum cleaner and was actually pretty impressed with how well it did getting up the mess and I looked up and my girls were watching me all covered in glitter.  That's when I decided to give the vacuum a try on them.  I used the brush attachment and it actually did a pretty good job.  Unfortunately they really got a kick out of it so I hope it isn't an incentive for them to get into more messes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-4043138963790283195?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4043138963790283195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4043138963790283195&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4043138963790283195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4043138963790283195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/new-low.html' title='A New Low'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7333748339540019126</id><published>2008-03-18T21:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T21:56:35.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playhouse Progress</title><content type='html'>Papa Hardin  has been planning this play house for years.  Once we signed the papers for this  house he started building it in his basement.  Well we've had other things come up (like a baby) so we are just now finally getting  it put up .  He's been here almost every day we've had nice weather and even showed up as soon as the sun came out after the recent tornadoes.   And he does all this with not only our kids but many of the neighborhood kids running around him;  he doesn't even get mad when his  tools decide to play hide and seek.  My kids are so excited.    My kids sure are blessed to have such a patient and generous Papa. Here are some picture of the progress from the last week.  (Oh Matthew helped some too).    &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-Bvq5cma_I/AAAAAAAAATE/P1QBV1dRl3U/s1600-h/100_8996.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-Bvq5cma_I/AAAAAAAAATE/P1QBV1dRl3U/s400/100_8996.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179262354242038770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-BvrZcmbAI/AAAAAAAAATM/o4e8lYp4Gz4/s1600-h/100_9014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-BvrZcmbAI/AAAAAAAAATM/o4e8lYp4Gz4/s400/100_9014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179262362831973378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-BvrpcmbBI/AAAAAAAAATU/DYBG6_1OqJ0/s1600-h/100_9069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-BvrpcmbBI/AAAAAAAAATU/DYBG6_1OqJ0/s400/100_9069.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179262367126940690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7333748339540019126?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7333748339540019126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7333748339540019126&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7333748339540019126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7333748339540019126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/playhouse-progress.html' title='Playhouse Progress'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R-Bvq5cma_I/AAAAAAAAATE/P1QBV1dRl3U/s72-c/100_8996.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3185630855993201282</id><published>2008-03-04T22:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T22:50:39.166-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bowl of Fruit by Nibble and Peck</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R84Qbg5VuEI/AAAAAAAAAS8/YlJuvf2cin0/s1600-h/100_8993.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R84Qbg5VuEI/AAAAAAAAAS8/YlJuvf2cin0/s400/100_8993.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174091086768224322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what happens when I leave the twins in the kitchen unattended.  They were coloring when I left them but they took my absence as an opportunity to help themselves to a snack.  I found one and since it only had a few bites taken out of it I put it back in the bowl.  I figured we'd just cut off the bad parts (yes, I'm aware I'm cheap and proud of it).  Then I realized that this morning I had a bunch of apples so I had to go find the rest of their stash.  Rebecca was not happy when she got home from school but she was a good sport. And unlike her sisters she ate not only the rest of the one of the apples, but also the core, the only thing left was the  stem and the seed.  I guess I should be glad my kids like fruit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3185630855993201282?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3185630855993201282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3185630855993201282&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3185630855993201282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3185630855993201282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/03/bowl-of-fruit-by-nibble-and-peck.html' title='Bowl of Fruit by Nibble and Peck'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R84Qbg5VuEI/AAAAAAAAAS8/YlJuvf2cin0/s72-c/100_8993.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4028269660701451444</id><published>2008-02-29T12:04:00.018-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T12:37:08.179-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Father/Daughter Dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g8-_42qZI/AAAAAAAAASU/BVTQW1w45LQ/s1600-h/100_8979b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g8-_42qZI/AAAAAAAAASU/BVTQW1w45LQ/s400/100_8979b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172451225034467730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8hCXf42qdI/AAAAAAAAAS0/5BoKEiMqV4M/s1600-h/100_8981a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8hCXf42qdI/AAAAAAAAAS0/5BoKEiMqV4M/s400/100_8981a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172457143499401682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm just a little slow getting these up.  Last Saturday Matthew got to take the both Rebecca and Kendall to the Father/ Daughter dance at the Elementary school.  They got pictures taken at the dance but here are the ones from home. The theme was "A Night in Paris"  which was easier to dress for than last year's Luau (on one of the coldest nights of the year). Rebecca asked me to French braid her hair to go along with the theme. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g9OP42qaI/AAAAAAAAASc/e3hyBbnT7qo/s1600-h/100_8980a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g9OP42qaI/AAAAAAAAASc/e3hyBbnT7qo/s400/100_8980a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172451487027472802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall was very excited to be able to go after watching Rebecca get to go in past years.  She was so excited that she fell running to get to the dance and skinned her knee and put a hole in her tights before she even got in the door.  She had a great time except for that and getting separated from Daddy at the dance.  Luckily our neighbor helped to reunite them.  Matthew even seemed to survive the Hannah Montana and the Chicken dance.   And Mommy survived bathing 3 little ones without the help of Daddy or even big sister helpers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g8wf42qYI/AAAAAAAAASM/1X_loEU4oSc/s1600-h/100_8976c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g8wf42qYI/AAAAAAAAASM/1X_loEU4oSc/s320/100_8976c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172450975926364546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-4028269660701451444?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4028269660701451444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4028269660701451444&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4028269660701451444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4028269660701451444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/fatherdaughter-dance.html' title='Father/Daughter Dance'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R8g8-_42qZI/AAAAAAAAASU/BVTQW1w45LQ/s72-c/100_8979b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4005845125768051682</id><published>2008-02-18T21:38:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T22:20:52.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Klepto Was at It Again (And It Landed Her a Night in Lockup).</title><content type='html'>Well it wasn't actually lockup but the ER, which is like jail with Barney.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once  a month my family get together for Family Home Evening.  We take turns hosting and last night was our turn.  We'd had a really nice time and most of the family had left.  The few remaining adults were in the kitchen and the only kids left were my own and my nephew who was sleeping in his daddy's arms.  I was enjoying the company and actually able to sit back and relax after a busy day.  (As much as I would love Sundays to be quiet and reflective that is never the case when you have to get 5 kids ready for church).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway Kendall comes is the kitchen to says, "Mom come here."  I slowly follow her into the kitchen thinking she's built some Lego structure she wants to show off.  What I find is Dakotta with the contents on my Sister-In-Law's bag thrown about.  And the first thing I see is the bag full of bright red pills.  I ask Dakotta if she ate any and she nods.  I ask her how many and she says, "1-2-3-4."  I'm impressed with her rote counting skills but not sure that the answer means anything.   They were Tylenol which I had heard horror stories about so I called poison control.  The guy on the line told me the magic number for her weight was 4 pills and since I wasn't sure how many she took Matthew headed to the ER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The initial blood test didn't show any signs of Tylenol but they need to check again in 4 hours.  They tried to get her to drink a cup of charcoal, but she was not having any of that and has the shirt to prove it.  My Sister and her hubby were here so they stuck around while I got the kids to bed (all except a lonely Corinna)  and then I relieved Matthew of his ER duties. He came home to hold down the fort and to get Corinna asleep while Dakotta and I killed time at the ER.  For the most part Dakotta thought it was pretty cool because she got one on one time with both her parents, videos and people to bring her juice and crackers.  She was not going to sleep, however. About the time I thought she might sleep they came in to get the 2nd blood work.  She was a trooper and was very brave.  The 2nd results came back that she didn't appear to have taken any.  So an hour later after a brief lecture on medicine safety we headed home.  By then it was after 1 AM and she was asleep before I pulled out of the parking lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had newborn twins I'd run into other parents of twins and they'd assure me it does get easier.  What they've all neglected to tell me is:  WHEN?!?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-4005845125768051682?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4005845125768051682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4005845125768051682&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4005845125768051682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4005845125768051682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-klepto-was-at-it-again-and-it-landed.html' title='My Klepto Was at It Again (And It Landed Her a Night in Lockup).'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2631222286666483725</id><published>2008-02-15T22:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T00:59:10.869-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Body is a Temple, Not an Amusement Park.</title><content type='html'>There's a Garth Brooks song titled &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Much Too Young (to Feel this *#$* Old) &lt;/span&gt;which is exactly how I feel most days.  Instead of waking up feel rested; when I wake up my back hurts, my hips hurt,  I'm covered in bruises and feel like a walking zombie.   I keep thinking how nice it would be to feel normal, but I honestly can't remember what normal feels like.  Then the part of my brain that likes numbers went into overdrive and I  came up with a list of what my poor body has been through lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the past 3 1/2 years I've had anywhere from 1 to 3 other people living off my body.  That brakes down to approximately 23 month pregnant or nursing twins,  3 months nursing twins while pregnant and 16 months pregnant or nursing 1 baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In that time a typical nights sleep consists of about 6 hours of sleep with an average of 2 awakenings for any combination of  taking care of kids or nursing a baby or bathroom breaks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 night a week I'll spend a good 30 minutes to an hour curled up on a toddler bed trying to get a toddler back to sleep.  (sometimes more if I happen to fall asleep that way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've gained 40 lbs, lost 30, gained 40, lost 45  (and still have lots more to lose).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had 2 C-sections (in other words I've had 3 people pulled out of my uterus).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend a significant part of my day doing chores while carrying a baby/toddler on my hip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have probably climbed up and down the stairs  20+ times a day and at least half of those I'm carrying anywhere from 16 to 50 pounds of baby/toddler (not to mention the  extra weight mentioned above) .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend about an hour a day wrestling or chasing kids that don't want to come inside, get their diapers changed,  stay by the stroller/grocery cart.  (Please tell me I can count this towards my aerobic weekly goal).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not least an hour a day where I'm the human jungle gym (or furniture if there are sick kids in the house).  If I get down on my hands and knees to clean up, someone is going to jump on my back.  And if I sit down, someone will be climbing me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow after reviewing this list that tummy tuck and boob lift don't seem all that scary anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2631222286666483725?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2631222286666483725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2631222286666483725&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2631222286666483725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2631222286666483725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-body-is-temple-not-amusement-park.html' title='My Body is a Temple, Not an Amusement Park.'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3413735241191681803</id><published>2008-02-06T00:03:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T00:07:52.379-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More Doodlepad Art by Dakotta</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sponge Bob&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R6lALR8wM5I/AAAAAAAAARw/VZJRjGNleJU/s1600-h/100_8793.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R6lALR8wM5I/AAAAAAAAARw/VZJRjGNleJU/s320/100_8793.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163729010297942930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A Self Portrait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R6lALx8wM6I/AAAAAAAAAR4/lRbNmj4d94U/s1600-h/100_8874.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R6lALx8wM6I/AAAAAAAAAR4/lRbNmj4d94U/s320/100_8874.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163729018887877538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3413735241191681803?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3413735241191681803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3413735241191681803&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3413735241191681803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3413735241191681803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/more-doodepad-art-by-dakotta.html' title='More Doodlepad Art by Dakotta'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R6lALR8wM5I/AAAAAAAAARw/VZJRjGNleJU/s72-c/100_8793.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2960245322617098336</id><published>2008-02-05T23:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T23:56:52.646-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bridge</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_8858.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2960245322617098336?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2960245322617098336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2960245322617098336&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2960245322617098336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2960245322617098336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/bridge.html' title='The Bridge'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7044634227962864903</id><published>2008-02-05T23:55:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T23:55:11.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dakotta Plays Ball</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_8855.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7044634227962864903?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7044634227962864903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7044634227962864903&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7044634227962864903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7044634227962864903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/dakotta-plays-ball.html' title='Dakotta Plays Ball'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2933792584645222593</id><published>2008-02-05T23:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T23:52:20.396-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Elliott is SO Big</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_8812.flv"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2933792584645222593?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2933792584645222593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2933792584645222593&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2933792584645222593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2933792584645222593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/02/elliott-is-so-big.html' title='Elliott is SO Big'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-9058317893835393558</id><published>2008-01-17T11:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T11:50:56.424-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w169.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/8ed1f929.pbw" height="360" width="480"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/album/slideshow/wrapper_logo.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/?action=view&amp;current=8ed1f929.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/album/slideshow/wrapper_viewshow.gif" style="float:right;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/redirect/album?action=slideshow" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/album/slideshow/wrapper_getyourown.gif" style="float:right;border-width: 0;" &gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-9058317893835393558?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/9058317893835393558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=9058317893835393558&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/9058317893835393558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/9058317893835393558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/01/snow-2008.html' title='Snow 2008'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6914915640377142652</id><published>2008-01-03T23:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T00:06:24.592-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You Meme and Papa!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R320_pFcWWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/qwQgYdfVLXs/s1600-h/100_8644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R320_pFcWWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/qwQgYdfVLXs/s320/100_8644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151472554235156834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So instead of a crazy amount of toys that I would have to clean up Meme and Papa Hardin decided to give us a family gift this year for Christmas,  a new swing set that they had installed yesterday.  The kids were so excited until they found out they couldn't play on it until  the cement had  dried.  So today I had to distract them until about noon so that it was above freezing before we went outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R32135FcWYI/AAAAAAAAAPY/4p8xwWJAJlA/s1600-h/100_8630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R32135FcWYI/AAAAAAAAAPY/4p8xwWJAJlA/s320/100_8630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151473520602798466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Elliott loved the baby swing and was so happy to swing away while I was constantly getting the other kids in and out of different swings.  The  had to test each swing for all of 30 seconds each.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R322upFcWZI/AAAAAAAAAPg/60xFZwWMVXw/s1600-h/100_8642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R322upFcWZI/AAAAAAAAAPg/60xFZwWMVXw/s320/100_8642.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151474461200636306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; was the one that was the most upset yesterday about not getting to go out on the slide, but she was miserable out in the cold today.  She kept trying all the swings but she just wasn't having fun.  Eventually she decided she was done and just headed back up to the house all by herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325qpFcWgI/AAAAAAAAAQY/6ymmYCaHnDw/s1600-h/100_8636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325qpFcWgI/AAAAAAAAAQY/6ymmYCaHnDw/s320/100_8636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151477691016043010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325q5FcWhI/AAAAAAAAAQg/dWGbsXLCric/s1600-h/100_8637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325q5FcWhI/AAAAAAAAAQg/dWGbsXLCric/s320/100_8637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151477695311010322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325r5FcWiI/AAAAAAAAAQo/kIzkA8izLLw/s1600-h/100_8638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325r5FcWiI/AAAAAAAAAQo/kIzkA8izLLw/s320/100_8638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151477712490879522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; and Corinna taking turns&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325s5FcWjI/AAAAAAAAAQw/CAyvD_q3Q9U/s1600-h/100_8639.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R325s5FcWjI/AAAAAAAAAQw/CAyvD_q3Q9U/s320/100_8639.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151477729670748722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R326ppFcWkI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/_qSegaZ42o4/s1600-h/100_8635.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R326ppFcWkI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/_qSegaZ42o4/s320/100_8635.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151478773347801666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; wait to try out the "baby" swing.&lt;br /&gt;I think she liked how high up it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R326qJFcWlI/AAAAAAAAARA/tvsGxIc_XMY/s1600-h/100_8643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R326qJFcWlI/AAAAAAAAARA/tvsGxIc_XMY/s320/100_8643.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151478781937736274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/469298743200052249-6914915640377142652?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6914915640377142652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6914915640377142652&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6914915640377142652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6914915640377142652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2008/01/thank-you-meme-and-papa.html' title='Thank You Meme and Papa!!!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R320_pFcWWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/qwQgYdfVLXs/s72-c/100_8644.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8737861983162460788</id><published>2007-12-31T14:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T15:05:04.048-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and My Shadow</title><content type='html'>Matthew's nickname for Elliott is "Shadow" because whenever Matthew walks in the room Elliott has to worm his way right over to him.  He especially loves to watch his daddy building fires.  Matthew will bring the wood in and the minute he opens that gate Elliott is right behind him watching everything he does.  I worry that one day he's going to trip over him because the little guy is right under his feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R3lK0JFcWVI/AAAAAAAAAPA/OT5DpXIYMDA/s1600-h/100_8448c.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R3lK0JFcWVI/AAAAAAAAAPA/OT5DpXIYMDA/s320/100_8448c.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150229908527274322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R3lKz5FcWUI/AAAAAAAAAO4/atqNvnHK2yY/s1600-h/100_8446b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R3lKz5FcWUI/AAAAAAAAAO4/atqNvnHK2yY/s320/100_8446b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150229904232307010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8737861983162460788?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8737861983162460788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8737861983162460788&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8737861983162460788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8737861983162460788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/12/me-and-my-shadow.html' title='Me and My Shadow'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R3lK0JFcWVI/AAAAAAAAAPA/OT5DpXIYMDA/s72-c/100_8448c.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3994207208668675894</id><published>2007-12-23T19:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-23T23:00:30.237-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Incedent Report</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R28uSJFcWSI/AAAAAAAAAOo/0kjvxRSaBNg/s1600-h/100_8441b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R28uSJFcWSI/AAAAAAAAAOo/0kjvxRSaBNg/s320/100_8441b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147383788319037730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Crime: Breaking an Entering, Vandalism, and Stolen Property&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scene of the Crime:  Hardin family Christmas Party&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Victims:  Carol Hardin and Kay Hiott&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suspect:  Dakotta Hardin, 2 years old approximately 3 feet tall 25 lbs,  blue eyes, blond curly hair, was last seen wearing pink flowered leggings, a green shirt and a lipstick stripe on her cheek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Accomplice:  Corinna Hardin, 2 years old approximately 3 feet tall 24 lbs,  blue eyes, blond curly hair,  was last seen wearing, pink leggings, a green shirt and lots of expensive jewelry that may belong to one of the victims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The victim was hosting a holiday party when she realized that someone had broken into her bedroom.  She found the drawer of her jewelry box on the floor with some of her jewelry missing.  Then she found that the contents of one of her guests, a Ms.  Kay Hiott, had been dumped out on the bed.  All medications and credit cards were accounted for but her car keys were missing and there were teeth marks in her lipstick.  Also a plastic green milk crate was placed next to the victims desk.  It appears this was how the suspect gained entrance into the jewelry box.  Ms.  Hardin said she saw the suspect prior to incident walking around with the green crate which she uses to hold toys.  Other witnesses say they saw Corinna walking around with large amounts of  jewelry.  It's not clear her level of involvement in the crime.  But the pair have a history of these type of crimes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3994207208668675894?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3994207208668675894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3994207208668675894&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3994207208668675894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3994207208668675894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/12/incedent-report.html' title='Incedent Report'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R28uSJFcWSI/AAAAAAAAAOo/0kjvxRSaBNg/s72-c/100_8441b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2413963369373524083</id><published>2007-12-11T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-15T12:29:14.194-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the Season</title><content type='html'>Saturday we loaded up the kids to get our Christmas tree.  We went to Pike Nurseries because we've always had the best luck there for a decent price.  They had a lady taking pictures of the kids by the trees and putting the pictures in card frames.  At first she saw the twins with me and took their picture.  Then she said, "Oh I didn't see the baby"  and got one of Elliott.  About the time she had it in the frame she realized there were 2 more kids.   Then Kendall wanted hers by the flocked trees so I think we ended up coming home with 4 pictures.  So I figure the least I could do is give them a good plug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NRxpFcWKI/AAAAAAAAANo/mhHUonjXBuA/s1600-h/100_8409a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NRxpFcWKI/AAAAAAAAANo/mhHUonjXBuA/s320/100_8409a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144045112671361186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sunday our neighborhood had cookies with Santa at the clubhouse. After church we quickly fed the kids and loaded them up.   About the time Santa showed up Rebecca came to tell us her stomach hurt and she wanted to go home.  We quickly got the picture with Santa and once I realized she wasn't going to hurl, I asked her to give the other kids a chance to have a treat.  A few minutes later when it was time to go, she was mad we waited so long to leave,  Kendall was upset that she didn't get to ask Santa how long it took him to get there and the twins were mad that they didn't get to play longer.  This is the first event we've attended since we've lived here and I don't think Matthew or I got to have more than a 2 minute conversation with any of our neighbors.   Maybe next year.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NWFZFcWQI/AAAAAAAAAOY/jwYMPEe1Zb0/s1600-h/100_8424a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NWFZFcWQI/AAAAAAAAAOY/jwYMPEe1Zb0/s320/100_8424a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144049850020288770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the week the girls were talking about what they wanted to get from Santa.  I jokingly told them that they were getting coal.  Rebecca then explained that if you've been naughty all you get from Santa is socks, underwear and coal .   Then Kendall said she was going to get Rebecca some coal for Christmas.  When I asked her why and she said, "Well sometimes she's not nice to me  BUT it is a ROCK!"  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NS6JFcWMI/AAAAAAAAAN4/8llMsuWpSY0/s1600-h/100_8419a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NS6JFcWMI/AAAAAAAAAN4/8llMsuWpSY0/s320/100_8419a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144046358211877058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it took us a few days to actually get our tree up and decorated.  First we had realized that we needed new lights and since I wasn't taking all the kids to the store it had to wait until Matthew got off work.  Then once I got the ornaments out within minutes one was broken and Elliot went straight for it.  So the next day I packed up the 3 little ones and made a run to Target.  Thanks to a few boxes of raisins, a package of animal crackers, a double stroller and a sling, I was able  get the only set of multicolored shatterproof ornaments they had without any major meltdowns from the little ones.  After making the kids wait half a week they had fun decorating the tree all of 10 minutes before they decided it was more fun to play with the ornaments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NWF5FcWRI/AAAAAAAAAOg/QSYEta5OjTg/s1600-h/100_8417.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NWF5FcWRI/AAAAAAAAAOg/QSYEta5OjTg/s320/100_8417.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144049858610223378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was trying to get the lights done on the Christmas tree I put my little Elves to work stuffing and putting the address labels on the Christmas cards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NS65FcWPI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/k6T8AMTS5z4/s1600-h/100_8431a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NS65FcWPI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/k6T8AMTS5z4/s320/100_8431a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144046371096778994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today  Meme and Papa Hardin came over to watch the three little kids so that I could  go to Kendall's Kindergarten class and help her decorate a ginger bread girl.  After she was done she ate her ginger bread cookie's arms and legs off.  Kendall said she wanted to make sure she didn't try to run away.   After that we wrote a story about her ginger bread girl who she named "Bristol"  and caused quite a bit of trouble at school.  (Sounds awfully familiar).  Kendall was especially excited that I finally got to meet her friend Charlie who she talks about all the time.  Then they ended the day by singing a few Christmas songs.  Kendall took a few minutes to warm up.  I was worried about this part since a few weeks ago she totally froze up when she was supposed to give the scripture and prayer in Primary (children's Sunday school).  But she did great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d1e0095b8be59c77" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd1e0095b8be59c77%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329880855%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7DF0EAC407F5B8D3C93F008ED08084E070AAD453.7D353BBABB057AD99869A0ED714955953A15CEA3%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd1e0095b8be59c77%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DIOZ621GbJ1yKKTn7ZUgpa_b7Fpk&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v15.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd1e0095b8be59c77%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329880855%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D7DF0EAC407F5B8D3C93F008ED08084E070AAD453.7D353BBABB057AD99869A0ED714955953A15CEA3%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd1e0095b8be59c77%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DIOZ621GbJ1yKKTn7ZUgpa_b7Fpk&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2413963369373524083?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d1e0095b8be59c77&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2413963369373524083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2413963369373524083&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2413963369373524083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2413963369373524083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/12/tis-season.html' title='Tis the Season'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R2NRxpFcWKI/AAAAAAAAANo/mhHUonjXBuA/s72-c/100_8409a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8261730868386325032</id><published>2007-12-11T22:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-11T22:57:46.582-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twin Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R19bd_KFDrI/AAAAAAAAANQ/q2AuPz9C7uE/s1600-h/100_8390a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R19bd_KFDrI/AAAAAAAAANQ/q2AuPz9C7uE/s320/100_8390a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142929870208437938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night  Corinna woke up very upset in the middle of the night. I went in to calm her down but the normal stuff didn't work. She kept saying she wanted to go downstairs. So I finally made sure Dakotta went back to sleep and brought Corinna to bed with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well 6:00 Dakotta wakes up crying and I could tell she was upset and realized that she was all alone.   I go to check on her and she's in Corinna's bed bawling.  I explain to her that Corinna is in my room and we'll go see her. In the meantime Elliott is in his bed (also in our room) crying and soaking wet. So I tried changing him while Dakotta clung to my leg in the semi dark. I kept telling her Corinna was in the bed but she wouldn't leave my side. I even set her on the bed hoping she'd find Corinna while I finished changing Elliott. Well she eventually woke up Corinna but would not move to go to her. So Matthew finally asked Corinna to talk to Dakotta. Corinna crawled over and put her head on Dakotta's lap and gave her a little hug then Dakotta's whole face lit up and she gave her the biggest hug.   It was if she was trying to say,  "Don't ever do that again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I felt my heart melt a little at that moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8261730868386325032?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8261730868386325032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8261730868386325032&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8261730868386325032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8261730868386325032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/12/twin-love.html' title='Twin Love'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/R19bd_KFDrI/AAAAAAAAANQ/q2AuPz9C7uE/s72-c/100_8390a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-23985544806431652</id><published>2007-12-05T22:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-05T23:40:10.145-05:00</updated><title type='text'>4 Out of 5 Kids Agree</title><content type='html'>That's about the way it rolls around here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year I decided to try my hand at taking my own Christmas photo.  I bought some coordinating pj's and made my bed (not an every day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; around here) and tried to get some pictures of my 5 children.  Well as is always the case one of my kids just can't get with the program.  It started out being &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt;,  she wasn't being disagreeable, it's just  that every time I went to take a picture she had to jump or put something in her face.  About the time I got her to cooperate Elliott decided that he had enough of this nonsense and cried &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; I put him near his sisters.  One of the things I've learned in the past 3 years is to let things go (if you've seen my housekeeping skills you'd agree) so I called off our little photo shoot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally got around to uploading my pictures  I thought I had some really cute shots but was a little disappointed that I didn't get that one "perfect"  pose of all 5 of my kids.  Part of me was tempted to get them all dressed again and try again.  But I decided that anyone who knows us knows we are far from perfect and I'm not trying to sell picture frames after all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-23985544806431652?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/23985544806431652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=23985544806431652&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/23985544806431652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/23985544806431652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/12/4-out-of-5-kids-agree.html' title='4 Out of 5 Kids Agree'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6983764554545324091</id><published>2007-11-26T22:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T00:02:15.054-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Distracted Much?</title><content type='html'>Is there such a thing as pregnancy induced ADD?  If so I think I must have it because I'm not sure I've completed a project in the past 9 years.  Today has been one of those days.  I think I had 3 things on my to do list and didn't complete any of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd been nursing Elliott and was going to put him down for a nap when I found my front door wide open.  I run outside to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; outside raking leaves in nothing but her diaper (and she probably wouldn't have had that on if it weren't for the duct tape).   I wasn't sure if Corinna had followed her (more likely she led her) outside or not so I call for her in a panic.  Luckily she was just barely to the side of the house and came running when I called.  She at least had the good sense to put on a pair of patent leather church shoes on with her diaper before braving the cold wet Georgia weather.  So after I pick my heart up off the ground I usher them in the house.  Needless to say Elliott was no longer asleep so I dead bolted the front door and went to get him lulled back to sleep.  After I get him settled in his crib I begin the process of getting the twins ready for their naps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So about 45 minutes later I've finally gotten them all to sleep and realize I have less than an hour to get housework done without toddler help.  So I quickly pick up the toys and throw them in the corner without really putting them away because getting the floor vacuumed is my top priority since a) I have a crawling baby and b)he screams when I vacuum when he's awake.  Well before I can even get the all the living room vacuumed I hear crying.  Elliott slept all of 45 minutes, apparent he doesn't like me even vaccuuming even when he's asleep and on a different floor.  So I bring him down since he doesn't care for the vacuum decide to start putting the toys away.  And I don't get far with that when my big girls start banging on the front door while of course is now dead bolted and they have to wait for me get the key to unlock it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall comes in and throws her bag at me and wants to immediately go back outside.  I keep her in for all of 5 minutes to go over her day and to check to see if she has homework.  Then she's off while I review Rebecca's school work.  She and I talk a bit and play with Elliott and then I start back on my project of picking up toys.  Well of course before I could finish I hear Kendall at the kitchen door.  I go to see what's going on and her hands and shoes are covered in mud.  So I make her strip and send her upstairs to the bathroom to change.  Then I spend the next hour trying to get her shoes and jacket washed(which she needs for school tomorrow).   And of course once all the mess is cleaned up it's time to start dinner and get the girl's homework done.  Which of course leads to dinner and clean up and getting kids to bed and reading and before I knew it it's 9:00 and I realize the vacuum cleaner hasn't even been put up and the the toys I had started to clean up are already out again.  And as I'm trying to write this post Kendall has come running all the way downstairs to tell us she needs to go potty (passing 2 bathrooms in the process) the twins woke up and needed to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;retucked&lt;/span&gt; and now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; is complaining of bad dreams.   I guess I'll  just add this post to my list of incomplete projects.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-6983764554545324091?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6983764554545324091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6983764554545324091&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6983764554545324091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6983764554545324091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/11/distracted-much.html' title='Distracted Much?'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-1748498305952838993</id><published>2007-11-18T21:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-18T22:10:09.954-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old MacDonald</title><content type='html'>So Corinna and Dakotta love the song Old MacDonald had a farm. I always stop when we get to the animal and wait for them to call out the name of a farm animal.  Well at least that's the way suppose to go. A few days ago we were singing and they shout out "spider"  (I guess it should have been expected since they'd watched Charlotte's Web earlier).  I tried to distract them and started in on the chorus of "Moo, moo, mooos"  but they weren't having it.  I finally did some itsy bitsy spider hand motions and something about wiggling, that they seemed content with.  Apparently they really got a kick out of my confusion so now it's become a big joke to them.  They throw out kangaroo, giraffe, zebra and ballerina.  Who knew Old MacDonald had his own little Utopia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  title reminds me that Rebecca used to call the fast food restaurant O MacDonalds.   I wonder if that has anything to do with her self proclaimed vegetarianism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-1748498305952838993?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/1748498305952838993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=1748498305952838993&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1748498305952838993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1748498305952838993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/11/old-macdonald.html' title='Old MacDonald'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-931244815787631894</id><published>2007-11-08T08:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T13:54:18.132-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I just can't win</title><content type='html'>How many things can 2 people find to fight over in one day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the morning milk cups, poured at the same time with the same gallon of milk into sippy cups that to the untrained eye appear to be "identical."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the diapers.  Yeah I know Luvs thought they were mixing it up by giving kids a new picture of Blue with every poop but those people didn't have 2 in diapers.  Not so much a problem when my 8 year old with OCD tendencies is home because she actually seems to enjoy rifling through a stack of diapers to find 2 with the same picture.  But I don't have the time nor the patience to put so much thought into something that will peed on within minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the clothes.  So for all of you that have relied on me dressing them differently (Kendall) the time has now come to learn to tell them apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the toys.  Yes apparently it's not good enough to have a set of blocks but they each must have their own A block, B block, C block....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the towels their Aunt Victoria made them with their names embroidered on the hood.  No matter how many times I've told Corinna that pink towel has Dakotta written on it she still insists is says Corinna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or the parent.  It's not enough that each child is being carried (dressed, buckled, fed, tucked in) by A parent.  It has to be a specific parent.  (And I can guarantee the preferred parent will be the one that needs the help the most).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's weird is there are a few things that they never seem to fight over.  They have stuffed bears,  a yellow one and a black one.  Corinna always gets the black and Dakotta the yellow.  Same thing with their blankets.  And Corinna has come to accept that all Doodle Pads (Magnadoodles) are Dakotta's which is funny since only 1 is and the other 3 technically belong to each of her sisters, including Corinna.  I will never figure them out.  Oh well, off to break up another fight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-931244815787631894?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/931244815787631894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=931244815787631894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/931244815787631894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/931244815787631894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-just-cant-win.html' title='I just can&apos;t win'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3483238451805999786</id><published>2007-11-03T20:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T22:04:07.615-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rewind for Pumpkins</title><content type='html'>Well I've been kind of busy and I forgot to post our pumpkin pictures.  So here they are now.   My sister &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lettitia&lt;/span&gt; came with us to pick pumpkins at a local church.  I could see the fear in the volunteer's eyes when we showed up and kids kept pouring out of my car like clowns at the circus.  He followed me round the whole time and I'm sure his blood pressure peeked while we were there.  We wanted to take some pictures of the kids with their pumpkins but he had enlisted help to carry them to my car before I had a chance to put away my wallet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; picked the tall pumpkin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UkmWQqxI/AAAAAAAAAKI/kOG6ybYwmuA/s1600-h/100_8128.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UkmWQqxI/AAAAAAAAAKI/kOG6ybYwmuA/s320/100_8128.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128778169646623506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; went for a big one but we convinced her to go smaller&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0TsGWQqsI/AAAAAAAAAJg/WL9oM8rHSZQ/s1600-h/100_8129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0TsGWQqsI/AAAAAAAAAJg/WL9oM8rHSZQ/s320/100_8129.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128777198984014530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna just posing&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0TtWWQquI/AAAAAAAAAJw/o1odxrIDhMU/s1600-h/100_8133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0TtWWQquI/AAAAAAAAAJw/o1odxrIDhMU/s320/100_8133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128777220458851042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elliott with his bitty one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UlGWQqyI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Sufp8dDZUOo/s1600-h/100_8137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UlGWQqyI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/Sufp8dDZUOo/s320/100_8137.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128778178236558114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm not sure what Kendall was doing here&lt;br /&gt; but as as usual she makes me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UlmWQqzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/rqJo026UlnQ/s1600-h/100_8145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UlmWQqzI/AAAAAAAAAKY/rqJo026UlnQ/s320/100_8145.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128778186826492722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gourd Relays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0Tt2WQqvI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/szveuz6qkl4/s1600-h/100_8134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0Tt2WQqvI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/szveuz6qkl4/s320/100_8134.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128777229048785650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Instead of toys for Christmas I think I'll get them some gourds&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0TumWQqwI/AAAAAAAAAKA/LwO7eBX5P-g/s1600-h/100_8135.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0TumWQqwI/AAAAAAAAAKA/LwO7eBX5P-g/s320/100_8135.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128777241933687554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They had this cute little spot with a scarecrow that shouted "photo-op"&lt;br /&gt;But before I turned around the man was at my car trying to load it in the back which of course had 2 or 3 strollers back there.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I got this shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0Ul2WQq0I/AAAAAAAAAKg/NqDXUErhu4Q/s1600-h/100_8148.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0Ul2WQq0I/AAAAAAAAAKg/NqDXUErhu4Q/s320/100_8148.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128778191121460034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My tired &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;pumkin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UmWWQq1I/AAAAAAAAAKo/k1P5a6TR4yA/s1600-h/100_8160.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UmWWQq1I/AAAAAAAAAKo/k1P5a6TR4yA/s320/100_8160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128778199711394642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with Georgia weather is that you almost have to carve your pumpkins the night before or else you end up with rotten pumpkins instead of Jack O Lanterns on Halloween.  Well Matthew had to work and I was too scared to give my kids a carving tool so I ended up carving the pumpkins all by myself.   I cut the tops off so they could clean them out.  Then I tried to do the whole Survivor Man thing where I would carve and then try to get pictures making the process that much more tedious.  Luckily only 1 of my kids wanted an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;intricate&lt;/span&gt; design.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here they are cleaning out their pumpkins. &lt;br /&gt;Notice Kendall is not touching that stuff and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; is tasting it.  YUM-O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0VyWWQq2I/AAAAAAAAAKw/MJhsBAI6bKQ/s1600-h/100_8162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0VyWWQq2I/AAAAAAAAAKw/MJhsBAI6bKQ/s320/100_8162.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128779505381452642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can't really tell but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; was actually taking the seeds &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; of the  bowl&lt;br /&gt;and putting them back into her pumpkin.&lt;br /&gt; She's always been my hoarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0Vy2WQq3I/AAAAAAAAAK4/GeylyWN14JU/s1600-h/100_8167.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0Vy2WQq3I/AAAAAAAAAK4/GeylyWN14JU/s320/100_8167.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128779513971387250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So I quickly got tired of documenting the process so&lt;br /&gt; here they all are with their finished pumpkins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0VzGWQq4I/AAAAAAAAALA/TmKSmxYAKXY/s1600-h/100_8170a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0VzGWQq4I/AAAAAAAAALA/TmKSmxYAKXY/s320/100_8170a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128779518266354562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca's Witch with Elliott's bitty one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0VzmWQq6I/AAAAAAAAALQ/j8RvhZcqvo4/s1600-h/100_8202.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0VzmWQq6I/AAAAAAAAALQ/j8RvhZcqvo4/s320/100_8202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128779526856289186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WYmWQq7I/AAAAAAAAALY/Xtus4ez8w_s/s1600-h/100_8206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WYmWQq7I/AAAAAAAAALY/Xtus4ez8w_s/s320/100_8206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128780162511449010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall watched over my shoulder as she told me&lt;br /&gt;exactly what to do for her "spooky" face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WZWWQq9I/AAAAAAAAALo/sdsooBlgBDo/s1600-h/100_8212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WZWWQq9I/AAAAAAAAALo/sdsooBlgBDo/s320/100_8212.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128780175396350930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WZGWQq8I/AAAAAAAAALg/gFBWLOV6tVI/s1600-h/100_8208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WZGWQq8I/AAAAAAAAALg/gFBWLOV6tVI/s320/100_8208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128780171101383618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Pumpkin Twins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WZWWQq-I/AAAAAAAAALw/Hpt7zPwIUzk/s1600-h/100_8213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0WZWWQq-I/AAAAAAAAALw/Hpt7zPwIUzk/s320/100_8213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128780175396350946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3483238451805999786?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3483238451805999786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3483238451805999786&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3483238451805999786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3483238451805999786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/11/rewind-for-pumpkins.html' title='Rewind for Pumpkins'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ry0UkmWQqxI/AAAAAAAAAKI/kOG6ybYwmuA/s72-c/100_8128.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3965389855112318441</id><published>2007-11-01T22:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T23:50:02.934-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hardin Halloween</title><content type='html'>Trick or Treating was fun because this was the first year the twins really got into it.  I couldn't really get a good group shot since they were so ready to fill up their bags.  We live in a neighborhood with lots of hills and not only are the roads steep but we had to walk down a steep driveway just  to walk up the 20some stairs to the front door and then back down the stairs and up the driveway to walk up the hill to the next house.  And then on the other side of the street we did the opposite.  And since our neighbor's mom had a nasty fall off some of these stairs just Sunday, I was paranoid and ended up carrying one twin up/down each set of stairs.   But other than that it went really well and  I figure it just gives me license to eat lots of their candy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca was a Jack O Lantern Ghost&lt;br /&gt;She got the idea when her uncle said she looked like a Jack O Lantern&lt;br /&gt; with all her missing teeth.  She's lost another one since yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZOmWQqmI/AAAAAAAAAIw/krHRK-RA7o4/s1600-h/100_8189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZOmWQqmI/AAAAAAAAAIw/krHRK-RA7o4/s320/100_8189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128079601805863522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kendall couldn't decide between a Witch or a Queen&lt;br /&gt;so she settled on being "a stepmother."&lt;br /&gt;My favorite moment of the night was when she was skipping along singing&lt;br /&gt;and stopped and said to herself, "Wait I'm supposed to be EVIL."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZPWWQqnI/AAAAAAAAAI4/JKWdRg0CGS4/s1600-h/100_8191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZPWWQqnI/AAAAAAAAAI4/JKWdRg0CGS4/s320/100_8191.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128079614690765426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is the best shot I got of Dakotta as Shirley Temple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZPmWQqoI/AAAAAAAAAJA/dZ37jM2pTOA/s1600-h/100_8193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZPmWQqoI/AAAAAAAAAJA/dZ37jM2pTOA/s320/100_8193.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128079618985732738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Rebecca and Kendall with Elliott the Teddy Bear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZQWWQqpI/AAAAAAAAAJI/DN9E0VcZUKw/s1600-h/100_8195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZQWWQqpI/AAAAAAAAAJI/DN9E0VcZUKw/s320/100_8195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128079631870634642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Corinna as Shirley Temple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZpmWQqrI/AAAAAAAAAJY/secbbQ0blBA/s1600-h/100_8198a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZpmWQqrI/AAAAAAAAAJY/secbbQ0blBA/s320/100_8198a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5128080065662331570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So today after lunch I got the twins their candy bags down so that they could pick a piece or 2 each to have for a treat.  So Dakotta digs in her bag and pulls out a bag of Skittles and Corinna pulls out a long tootsie roll.  I helped Dakotta with hers while Corinna unwrapped hers and then she tore it in half and handed the other half to her sister.  And then Dakotta dumped out her bag of Skittles so they could share.  When they were done with those I let them get another piece each.  Dakotta reached in her bag for 2 packs of Smarties and Corinna got out 2 lollypops out of hers.  I thought it was so sweet that it didn't even occur to me that they ended up actually with 3 pieces each until I was putting the bags up.   Sneaky kids!     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay Tuned:  I hope to get some pumpkin pictures up soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3965389855112318441?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3965389855112318441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3965389855112318441&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3965389855112318441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3965389855112318441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/11/hardin-halloween.html' title='Hardin Halloween'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RyqZOmWQqmI/AAAAAAAAAIw/krHRK-RA7o4/s72-c/100_8189.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-1874229804095089903</id><published>2007-10-19T23:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T23:23:31.868-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dakotta's Doodle Pad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; is obsessed with her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Magna&lt;/span&gt; Doodle.  Actually we have 4 different ones and she spends hours a day coloring on any  one of them. She even insists on taking one to bed with her each night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is a picture of her a few weeks ago drawing the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxlyVCE6HjI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6uokWgs7r-M/s1600-h/100_7785.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxlyVCE6HjI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6uokWgs7r-M/s320/100_7785.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123251756770926130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big girls built a train from used boxes that day,  &lt;br /&gt;but you can see that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; was engrossed in her doodle pad&lt;br /&gt;while everyone else was having fun playing train. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxlyTCE6HiI/AAAAAAAAAIY/G7bpOfWGTXY/s1600-h/100_7747a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxlyTCE6HiI/AAAAAAAAAIY/G7bpOfWGTXY/s320/100_7747a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123251722411187746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This  is a picture  she drew today.&lt;br /&gt; She threw a tantrum when I took it away&lt;br /&gt;so that I could take a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;picture&lt;/span&gt; before she erased it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Rxly5SE6HkI/AAAAAAAAAIo/QlSfDhbs_z0/s1600-h/100_8127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Rxly5SE6HkI/AAAAAAAAAIo/QlSfDhbs_z0/s320/100_8127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123252379541184066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She says the ball on the right is a  "kitty ball".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-1874229804095089903?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/1874229804095089903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=1874229804095089903&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1874229804095089903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/1874229804095089903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/dakottas-doodle-pad.html' title='Dakotta&apos;s Doodle Pad'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxlyVCE6HjI/AAAAAAAAAIg/6uokWgs7r-M/s72-c/100_7785.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8076053083581140586</id><published>2007-10-17T23:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T23:20:30.737-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blackmail Material</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I went to throw away Corinna's diaper and when I came back this is what I found.  If you look closely you will notice her reading material of choice is a "My Twinn" catalog.  I guess someone  should warn Dakotta that she may be replaced.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxbO0iE6HhI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/P_Rncs8eyLI/s1600-h/100_8034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxbO0iE6HhI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/P_Rncs8eyLI/s320/100_8034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122509028076428818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And for those of you keeping score, they still haven't actually peed in the toilet. &lt;br /&gt;But they sure do enjoy the ritual. &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/469298743200052249-8076053083581140586?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8076053083581140586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8076053083581140586&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8076053083581140586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8076053083581140586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/blackmail-material.html' title='Blackmail Material'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxbO0iE6HhI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/P_Rncs8eyLI/s72-c/100_8034.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3778665350855842916</id><published>2007-10-14T23:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:58:52.506-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Playing in the Dirt</title><content type='html'>So for several months we've had a giant sink hole in our front yard. Apparently this was where the builders &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;buried&lt;/span&gt; all the trash when they built the house 20 years ago.  Matthew has spent many hours digging this garbage out and had gotten as far as he could.  So Saturday he rented a Bob Cat to fix the sink hole and to do some leveling of our back yard.  His exciting find of the day was a rusty old water heater.  Anyway,  my job on this beautiful autumn day was too keep 5 children entertained and out of the way of any large &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;machinery&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We started the morning off by making muffins&lt;br /&gt;Corinna licking the cup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg2iE6HZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/kBO2HqdYyPE/s1600-h/100_8077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg2iE6HZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/kBO2HqdYyPE/s320/100_8077.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121402953738624402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; sneaking a taste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3CE6HaI/AAAAAAAAAHY/1cV24m1m86s/s1600-h/100_8082a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3CE6HaI/AAAAAAAAAHY/1cV24m1m86s/s320/100_8082a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121402962328559010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to keep them on the deck playing so they could watch what was going on and  be out of harms way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to get a picture of Elliott and all the girls jumped in the shot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3SE6HbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/WyGr5UISy38/s1600-h/100_8089.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3SE6HbI/AAAAAAAAAHg/WyGr5UISy38/s320/100_8089.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121402966623526322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching the work.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3iE6HcI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dx4hPlzyRlM/s1600-h/100_8093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3iE6HcI/AAAAAAAAAHo/dx4hPlzyRlM/s320/100_8093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121402970918493634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elliott in his exersaucer &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3yE6HdI/AAAAAAAAAHw/V8_9dlI1TjI/s1600-h/100_8105.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg3yE6HdI/AAAAAAAAAHw/V8_9dlI1TjI/s320/100_8105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121402975213460946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kendall came up with the idea to make a scarecrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLirSE6HeI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Tjl_ll0zyt0/s1600-h/100_8108.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLirSE6HeI/AAAAAAAAAH4/Tjl_ll0zyt0/s320/100_8108.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121404959488351714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna checking out the dirt&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLjBSE6HgI/AAAAAAAAAII/kSqw9Um1btE/s1600-h/100_8112.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLjBSE6HgI/AAAAAAAAAII/kSqw9Um1btE/s320/100_8112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121405337445473794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Our friend Roman is coming back tomorrow to finish the leveling and to plant the seed.  Unfortunately since we're in a drought we just have to cross our fingers for some rain because we aren't allowed to water.  Of course someone should tell that to my neighbor who was busy watering the street last night at 9:00.  I'm trying to convince Matthew that if we can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;syphon&lt;/span&gt; out our tub water the grass should be fine.    Maybe tomorrow I'll let my kids paint themselves with chalk and we'll do a little rain dance.  (And then take a bath).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/469298743200052249-3778665350855842916?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3778665350855842916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3778665350855842916&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3778665350855842916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3778665350855842916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/playing-in-dirt.html' title='Playing in the Dirt'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLg2iE6HZI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/kBO2HqdYyPE/s72-c/100_8077.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4867288986318329443</id><published>2007-10-14T23:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T23:22:41.460-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures from the Play</title><content type='html'>Unfortunately the pictures from the play didn't turn out great.  I'm sure  a better photographer would now how to get a good picture of the shortest kid in the play who is in a glow in the dark costume while  in a crowd of other cameras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Rebecca with her biggest Fan.&lt;br /&gt;Kendall sand along with all the songs because she had&lt;br /&gt;been practicing them with Rebecca.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLZ2yE6HWI/AAAAAAAAAG4/GALQvoTFhxg/s1600-h/100_8063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLZ2yE6HWI/AAAAAAAAAG4/GALQvoTFhxg/s320/100_8063.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121395261452197218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;   After the play we took them to Brusters.&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca ordered the banana split which is much bigger&lt;br /&gt;than the picture would lead you to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLZ3CE6HXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/9hgNygkPB3Q/s1600-h/100_8066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLZ3CE6HXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/9hgNygkPB3Q/s320/100_8066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121395265747164530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I let them sleep downstairs and&lt;br /&gt;this is what I found the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLciiE6HYI/AAAAAAAAAHI/kggzXa4wR_E/s1600-h/100_8070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLciiE6HYI/AAAAAAAAAHI/kggzXa4wR_E/s320/100_8070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121398212094729602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My own little Ying/Yang&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/469298743200052249-4867288986318329443?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4867288986318329443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4867288986318329443&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4867288986318329443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4867288986318329443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/pictures-from-play.html' title='Pictures from the Play'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RxLZ2yE6HWI/AAAAAAAAAG4/GALQvoTFhxg/s72-c/100_8063.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3271344383408076838</id><published>2007-10-14T01:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T01:09:54.904-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bravo! Bravo!</title><content type='html'>Last Night we went to see Rebecca in &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tide Pool Condos &lt;/span&gt;at the Elementary School.  Kendall had seen it during the school day and said she did "Excellent!"  We had a sitter to watch the 3 little ones so that I didn't have to wrestle anyone while watching the play.  It was a cute play and everyone did a good job, especially Rebecca.   But of course I'm one of those has-been, stage moms.   I have to admit that I'm such a sap,  I actually get teary eyed watching my kids perform.  But she was the best Bioluminescent Guy, I've ever seen.   I'll try to post pictures soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show was  a little bitter sweet because I loved seeing Rebecca showing off her talents  but on the other hand it makes me sad because it reminds me of a part of my life I've put on hold for the last 8 years.  I was excited to get to help with one of the rehearsals.  I would have loved to do more and 3 kids ago I was the type of mom that was always at the school. Unfortunately until we figure out how to install another bathroom for an Au Pair,  or until the kids are older I just can't do as much extracurricular stuff as I would like.  It was kind of weird the one day I showed up because I expected just to keep kids on task.  But I ended up in a group that was learning a dance.  The lady responsible for teaching the dance did not have a dance background and had just been taught it herself a few minutes before.  At first she just wanted me to be in charge of the music.  But when she found out I had dance experience I ended up getting to help teach the girls.  I can't tell you how much fun I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was also an exciting day for Kendall.  Her class has a Green, Yellow, Red card system for behavior.  Well,  Kendall was born with a disability. She was born without a volume control.  Add that to the fact that she's very social and it doesn't make for many "Green Days."  Well at the first week of school when I had already gotten a phone call from her teacher and we had just gotten done discussing our expectations she asked me when I was coming to have lunch.  I was so fluster I spouted, "When you can get 5 Green Days in a row."  So this has been her goal for the school year.  And up until last week she's never gotten past 3 in a row.  But she finally did it and it only took her 9 weeks of school.   So Monday Kendall gets to have lunch with Mommy and her younger siblings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3271344383408076838?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3271344383408076838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3271344383408076838&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3271344383408076838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3271344383408076838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/bravo-bravo.html' title='Bravo! Bravo!'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-439571786027708022</id><published>2007-10-08T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T22:44:49.256-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tickle Me Elliott</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_8020.flv"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_8019.flv"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://i169.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=http://vid169.photobucket.com/albums/u226/mthardin18/100_8018.flv"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's Kendall narrating,  she can't stand to have a camera pointed at someone other than her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-439571786027708022?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/439571786027708022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=439571786027708022&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/439571786027708022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/439571786027708022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/tickle-me-elliott.html' title='Tickle Me Elliott'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-6414583050656824889</id><published>2007-10-07T14:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T00:52:00.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Can you say determined?</title><content type='html'>My children are very goal oriented.  Apparently the twins goal for yesterday was to get a shower or a bath.   First thing in the morning I got them changed and fed.   I had left Matthew and Elliott asleep in my room and a little while later Matthew brought Elliott down and he headed back upstairs to take a shower.  While I was taking care of Elliott, Corinna and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; must have heard the water running because when I walked backed into the living room they were both completely naked. I had already changed them for the morning so their diapers were not longer duct taped on (if you have to ask see side note below).  I asked them what they were doing they both told me they were going to take a shower.  I decided since they were already naked it was a good time to put them on the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This little toilet ritual of ours is something I do in hopes that one day they are going to actually pee in the toilet (3 kids in diapers is not cheap).    It involves first a fight over who is going to go first and who is going to put the cushy toddler seat on top of the regular seat.  Then while I try to encourage one to "tinkle,"  complete with all manner of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;embarrassing&lt;/span&gt; songs and sound effects, the other will play with toilet paper.  Then another fight ensues about who is going to wipe the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tinkler's&lt;/span&gt;"  bum.  Then we repeat.  Then another fight about who is going flush the toilet.  And then we wash hands.  Time spent in bathroom:30 minutes.  Toilet paper used: 1/2 roll.  Fights broken up: 4.  Pee in the Toilet:  None.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then I thought maybe I'd just let them run around naked for a bit.  People keep telling me the bare bottom technique is the way to go with potty training.  But apparently they took that as a sign that they were getting a bath.   So as soon as they were allowed upstairs they headed straight to their bath tub.  I finally got them out of their bathroom and shut the doors and they ran straight o my tub and decided to play in there.  Since I needed to do some laundry, I let them play in the tub while I changed loads.  When I came back I found ice skating in toothpaste they had squeezed into the tub.  When I turned on the water to rinse out the tub and they started to get excited about taking a bath.  But I'm a mean mommy and cleaned off their feet and got them out.  Then I got them dressed and off to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A  little later in the day the kids found some chalk outside and were coloring on the walk way in the back yard.  All 4 girls were being so good playing so nicely together and I was watching from the deck.  My view was somewhat obstructed by their play house.  Then I noticed a pair of blue legs and realized they belonged to my 5 year old.  Apparently the chalk had been left out in the rain and was the consistency of make up.   So my angels come up to me looking like little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Aborigines&lt;/span&gt;.  Who knew wet chalk made such good War paint?   And of course what's the first thing out of their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;mouths&lt;/span&gt; when they get to me.   "I wanna take a bath"  Well I was trying to head out to dinner for the night and by now I'm just as determined that they aren't going to be rewarded with a bath for being such trouble makers.  So I cleaned them in the sink.  Yes I know it would have been easier but I'm stood my ground on principle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am however,  all about starting the day on a clean slate (literally) so first thing after breakfast this morning I gave them their bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Little Aborigines&lt;br /&gt;Corinna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxmSE6HRI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MlVplMfEODg/s1600-h/100_8023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxmSE6HRI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MlVplMfEODg/s320/100_8023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118817722728848658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Corinna washing up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxnSE6HUI/AAAAAAAAAGo/2UAcbCDvIL8/s1600-h/100_8026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxnSE6HUI/AAAAAAAAAGo/2UAcbCDvIL8/s320/100_8026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118817739908717890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmyJSE6HVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/l6sKoD4GgGs/s1600-h/100_8027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmyJSE6HVI/AAAAAAAAAGw/l6sKoD4GgGs/s320/100_8027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118818324024270162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My lovely walkway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxnCE6HTI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Ui-R1Ko9WS4/s1600-h/100_8025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxnCE6HTI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Ui-R1Ko9WS4/s320/100_8025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118817735613750578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side Note:&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;TMI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Warning&lt;/span&gt;:  If you have a weak stomach skip this little side note:  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE&lt;/span&gt;.  My little darlings have the most disgusting habit.   When they are left unattended for any length of time they will removed their diapers.  Now that's rather annoying in itself.  However, they aren't content just to enjoy the freedom of a bare butt.  No, they must then use the contents of their diapers as art material.  When they first discovered this hobby I outsmarted them by putting their diapers on backwards, so that they couldn't reach the tabs.  They quickly figured out how to get to the tabs anyway.  Luckily for us the weather turned cooler and we realized that they couldn't figure out the tabs that went over the zippers of their footy pajamas.  So we had a brief reprieve until they figured those out as well.  So finally, we've had to resort to duct taping their diapers on to them.  I only do this at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;nap and bed times&lt;/span&gt; because that's when they are mostly likely to engage in this unsavory art form and, well if you've ever tried to duct tape a diaper on very active toddler while trying not to  get the duct tape on their sensitive skin you know it's no picnic.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Now&lt;/span&gt; before anyone thinks of call &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;DFS&lt;/span&gt; or Dr. Phil, I got the duct tape recommendation from my Pediatrician.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-6414583050656824889?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/6414583050656824889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=6414583050656824889&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6414583050656824889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/6414583050656824889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/can-you-say-determined.html' title='Can you say determined?'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwmxmSE6HRI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/MlVplMfEODg/s72-c/100_8023.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8944870880360620478</id><published>2007-10-05T21:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T10:49:14.024-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to ME</title><content type='html'>The weird thing about being 6 weeks younger than my spouse is that when he has his Birthday in August I start thinking I'm a year older and then by the time it's my Birthday I think I'm a year older than I really am.   I thought this was some weird little quirk of mine until I was talking to my sister and she admitted to doing the same thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Matthew took the day off for my Birthday and asked his parents to watch Corinna and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; so that we could head to Atlanta.  I've been itching to get to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IKEA&lt;/span&gt; for sometime, but not so much that I was willing to do it by myself with little ones in tow.    Once we got there Matthew needed to make a Pit stop, so I was walking around the lobby trying to figure out my game plan.    I went to grab a catalog, since I had left mine at home, but there was a small group of people in my way.  They appeared to be planning something and I wasn't sure if they were employees or not.  Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, in case they were sales people, I quickly went for the catalog when a gentleman who looks like someone I think I should know looks at me and nods.  About the time I see all the camera equipment  I realize that it's Vern Yip, a designer from Trading Spaces and other TV shows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;IKEA&lt;/span&gt; was a little overwhelming and I don't think Matthew realized what he was getting into.  I've been looking for the perfect &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;scrapbooking&lt;/span&gt; table since Mother's Day and of course the one from the catalog that I really wanted to see was out of stock.   But I got some good ideas and we did get some fun things for the kids rooms.  Not exactly what I had in mind for my Birthday present but if it helps keep their junk off the floor I'll be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we were done at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;IKEA&lt;/span&gt; we decided to head to our favorite &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Thai&lt;/span&gt; restaurant.  Unfortunately, since neither Matthew or I spend much time in Atlanta these days, instead of the the wonderful little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt; we love we were greeted with a giant mound of dirt in the the middle of down town Atlanta.  We drove up 14&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; street and were lucky enough to find &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tamrind&lt;/span&gt; Seed.   The new place was so fancy and I felt a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;under dressed&lt;/span&gt; in jeans but the food was as good as I remembered it.  And the best part is that there were plenty of leftovers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the staff oohed and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;aaahed&lt;/span&gt; over Elliott, I was reminded of the first time I ate at the old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;restaurant&lt;/span&gt;.  I was a new mom and one of the hostess was quite taken by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Rebecca,&lt;/span&gt; who was about 9 months old at ther time.    &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; was restless and had been trying to get out of the high chair.  She reached out to the hostess who picked her up and before I knew it the lady was taking my baby to see the other waiters. I was a little taken aback by it and Matthew and I whispered things between us and decided she was safe. Then she totally startled me by  taking my baby to the kitchen  and out of my site.  That's when I gave my dear husband that Mother Bear look.  He quickly hopped up and headed to the kitchen.  I think the hostess must have realized her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;faux&lt;/span&gt; pas about the same time because she came out and returned her to my arms.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; of course was as happy as could be.  These days I may have made a run for it while she was in the kitchen.   Well not really, or maybe, just long enough to pee in silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to top off my great day I'm going to go enjoy some Triple chunk Brownies.  TTFN&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8944870880360620478?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8944870880360620478/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8944870880360620478&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8944870880360620478'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8944870880360620478'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to ME'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2727297439320091988</id><published>2007-10-02T22:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T00:04:08.208-04:00</updated><title type='text'>When It Rains It Pours</title><content type='html'>This afternoon I had gotten &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; started on her homework, Elliott  sleeping, and Kendall and the twins were playing in the living room.  I have gates into the dining room, the kitchen, and at the top of the stairs and I had the outside doors dead bolted.   I thought it was a good time to take a quick break and to read a few emails and check in on a message board I visit.  I was wrong. As I'm at my computer in the basement I begin to hear water running.  It sounded like it was coming from the bathroom and I didn't think much of it.  A few minutes later I hear a dripping sound.   I followed the sound which is about 2 feet to my left and look up and realize there's a water spot starting on my ceiling tile.  I ran upstairs to see the gate open and  Corinna at the back of the sink with water pouring out of it.  I turn the water off and start mopping up the mess when I see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; eating Rice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Crispies&lt;/span&gt; off the floor with the empty box next to her.  The funny thing was that when I asked who left the gate open both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; and Kendall took responsibility.  So they both got the pleasure of cleaning it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the problem with all these childproofing gadgets we have around the house.  We are constantly in a state of thinking of ways to childproof better with as little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;inconvenience&lt;/span&gt; to the rest of us that live here.  For example the doorknob covers are a blessing for me most of the time,  until Kendall needs to make a mad dash to the bathroom.   I've observed that there is a direct correlation to how badly one has the urge to pee and how difficult it is to open a door with a  childproof doorknob cover.  I've even experienced it first hand myself.  This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;phenomenon&lt;/span&gt; usually leads to me cleaning a bathroom floor while consoling a humiliated 5 year old.   Now the caveat to this theory is that if you are accustomed to peeing in your pants, or let's say a diaper, you then begin to possess super toddler abilities that allow you to outsmart the device and  remove the doorknob cover all together.  This is the only explanation I have for finding 2 toddlers in the hall and the doorknob cover in pieces in their room yesterday morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm wondering how much those professional childproofers charge per hour?  Maybe I could hire out my twins to new parents.  I'm sure in less time than any expert my kids can show them what things are going to be a problem when there's a toddler around.   Sounds like a great way to support their cereal purging hobby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2727297439320091988?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2727297439320091988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2727297439320091988&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2727297439320091988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2727297439320091988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/10/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='When It Rains It Pours'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3128746303546686460</id><published>2007-09-30T19:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T23:24:03.275-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Bear Bash</title><content type='html'>So yesterday was the Blue Bear Bash at the elementary school. Kendall was so excited and asked me what a bash was and I told her it was a "wild party".   What!?  I was in the car without access to a dictionary or the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt;, it was what came to my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They had lots of activities like a climbing wall,  scooter relays and old standbys like a cake walk and face painting.  The twins only had eyes for the slide but the big girls enjoyed many of the games.  And then we had some pizza and ice cream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgDyE6HII/AAAAAAAAAFI/ku0J3Qkf_OI/s1600-h/100_7971.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgDyE6HII/AAAAAAAAAFI/ku0J3Qkf_OI/s320/100_7971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116194794791115906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; and Corinna were in awe of the Chic-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fil&lt;/span&gt;-A cow.  But they had no desire to get close to him.  After he left &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; they went by this spot, they'd say "Where's cow?  Where's Moo?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgECE6HJI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pjEQUfhEiz8/s1600-h/100_7974.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgECE6HJI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/pjEQUfhEiz8/s320/100_7974.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116194799086083218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; getting a blue heart of her cheek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBiJyE6HNI/AAAAAAAAAFw/yrJ6zrA2rbc/s1600-h/100_7977.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBiJyE6HNI/AAAAAAAAAFw/yrJ6zrA2rbc/s320/100_7977.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116197096893586642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Corinna getting a pink heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgEiE6HLI/AAAAAAAAAFg/wNIg7Cu2cS0/s1600-h/100_7978.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgEiE6HLI/AAAAAAAAAFg/wNIg7Cu2cS0/s320/100_7978.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116194807676017842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgEyE6HMI/AAAAAAAAAFo/xW6jX_e4-QU/s1600-h/100_7980.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgEyE6HMI/AAAAAAAAAFo/xW6jX_e4-QU/s320/100_7980.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116194811970985154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; and Kendall both chose kitty faces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBiKCE6HOI/AAAAAAAAAF4/xOWaloQp7UU/s1600-h/100_7966.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBiKCE6HOI/AAAAAAAAAF4/xOWaloQp7UU/s320/100_7966.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116197101188553954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And off they go.&lt;br /&gt;We gave Kendall permission to go play and Corinna and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; both just took off.   Mommy was on her A game and managed to snap the picture and catch them before they were lost in the crowd.  Of course there were plenty of odd looks from spectators but she quit paying attention to those about 2 1/2 years ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;When we were headed home I was asking the girls what their favorite part of the day was.  Kendall said her's was playing with her friend Macy.  And then she said, "But I don't think they should have called it a Bash."  I asked her why and she said, "It wasn't very wild."  I guess it's time she learned about truth in advertising. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/469298743200052249-3128746303546686460?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3128746303546686460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3128746303546686460&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3128746303546686460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3128746303546686460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/blue-bear-bash.html' title='Blue Bear Bash'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RwBgDyE6HII/AAAAAAAAAFI/ku0J3Qkf_OI/s72-c/100_7971.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-4214291766713373407</id><published>2007-09-29T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T10:30:43.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Public Service Announcement</title><content type='html'>If your kids dump baby formula all over the floor (or any other powdery substance) and you vacuum it up,  remember to empty the the vacuum cleaner IMMEDIATELY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How did they get baby formula?  Well we keep their diapers and diaper bags in the coat closet.  And apparently one of the gift diaper bags they had given out at the hospital had a sample can of powdered infant formula.  Somehow they not only managed to get the lid off but also the sealed top.  I got it all cleaned up but forgot to empty the vacuum cleaner.  So I come back to find more formula (only clumpier this time) all over the floor.  So I'm trying to figure out where they found more when I see the canister missing from the vacuum.  I then realized they just recycled the  previous  formula.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-4214291766713373407?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/4214291766713373407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=4214291766713373407&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4214291766713373407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/4214291766713373407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/public-service-announcement.html' title='Public Service Announcement'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-738620605059249796</id><published>2007-09-27T22:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-27T23:07:43.040-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun Run Boosterthon Day</title><content type='html'>Last night I fell asleep while &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; was reading to me. She woke me up to see if she had read her required 15 minutes. Once I got her and Kendall off to bed Matthew suggested I go to bed, which I did at 8:30. I did get up to feed Elliott twice in the middle of the night. But come morning I realized that the sun was shining through my window. I jumped up to look at the clock on Matthew's side of the bed to see it was 7:30. The time the kids should be at the bus stop. Someone (a mysterious toddler I'm sure) had turned off the alarm. The weird thing is that I almost always awake before the alarm goes off. I guess I was a little tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Anyway we all rushed around getting ready and Matthew dropped them off at school. In the meantime I got the little ones up and fed so that we could go to the school for Rebecca's FUN RUN. It's the school's way of raising money for the PTO without having to sell wrapping paper or candy bars. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; and Kendall were supposed to get sponsors for each lap they ran. I was surprised at how eager they were to call family and friends to hit them up for money. It was actually kind of hard for me to watch because I get a pit in my stomach doing that kind of stuff.  But &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt;  did a great job getting pledges for her and Kendall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoTyE6G8I/AAAAAAAAADo/6HsYNYZ94wc/s1600-h/100_7909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoTyE6G8I/AAAAAAAAADo/6HsYNYZ94wc/s320/100_7909.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115077965855202242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; ran 36 laps (about 2 1/2 miles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoUCE6G9I/AAAAAAAAADw/HwBCIyBSLvA/s1600-h/100_7896.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoUCE6G9I/AAAAAAAAADw/HwBCIyBSLvA/s320/100_7896.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115077970150169554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Wardrobe malfunction:  Someone stepped on her shoe and it came off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Then after an hour in the heat Corinna, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt;, Elliott and I headed home for lunch so that we could come back that afternoon to see Kendall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoUiE6G-I/AAAAAAAAAD4/xZhI8TorQ7M/s1600-h/100_7933.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoUiE6G-I/AAAAAAAAAD4/xZhI8TorQ7M/s320/100_7933.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115077978740104162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kendall waves at her fans.  She ran 27 laps (about 2 miles)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoVCE6G_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/2nCtLOyV5U8/s1600-h/100_7920.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoVCE6G_I/AAAAAAAAAEA/2nCtLOyV5U8/s320/100_7920.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115077987330038770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The cheerleaders decided to wear the track cones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoVSE6HAI/AAAAAAAAAEI/--zq4dvT_XQ/s1600-h/100_7929.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoVSE6HAI/AAAAAAAAAEI/--zq4dvT_XQ/s320/100_7929.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115077991625006082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cheerleading&lt;/span&gt; stunts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;We all had lots of fun.  The little ones were a big hit with the big girls classmates.  At one point after the run I was letting the twins go down the slide and looked over at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt; and about 15 of her classmates had surrounded Elliott's stroller.  You would have thought we were celebrities.  Of course leaving proved to be a bit of a challenge because the twins wanted some of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;popsicles&lt;/span&gt; reserved for the athletes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And apparently we wore my little man out because this is what we found a little later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxtOiE6HBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ql3Gy1y9d7g/s1600-h/100_7944.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxtOiE6HBI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ql3Gy1y9d7g/s320/100_7944.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115083373219027986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Notice how his little hand is still holding the fishy toy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxtOyE6HCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Axy6towuMV4/s1600-h/100_7949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxtOyE6HCI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Axy6towuMV4/s320/100_7949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115083377513995298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; this little red mark made me smile because it reminded me of my Dad. He was notorious for falling asleep in church with his head on the pew in front of him. Whenever he woke up he always had one of the red marks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/469298743200052249-738620605059249796?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/738620605059249796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=738620605059249796&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/738620605059249796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/738620605059249796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/fun-run-boosterthon-day.html' title='Fun Run Boosterthon Day'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvxoTyE6G8I/AAAAAAAAADo/6HsYNYZ94wc/s72-c/100_7909.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3052127940769012051</id><published>2007-09-23T22:55:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T23:40:38.187-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wood, Rocks and a Praying Mantis</title><content type='html'>Well if you have ever been camping with my husband you know he has an obsession with fires and firewood. He spends the winter procuring, chopping, splitting and stacking firewood. If you have a dead tree he may even ask you if he can cut it down for you. So with the hopes of cooler weather on the horizon today he began his yearly ritual of moving firewood. And like most years, at the beginning of the season the girls are eager to lend a hand. By February it will be a different story. So here are some pictures from today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcuWznoDcI/AAAAAAAAADI/YZnyq1y5pZY/s1600-h/100_7872.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcuWznoDcI/AAAAAAAAADI/YZnyq1y5pZY/s320/100_7872.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113606871250898370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kendall&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Rvct_DnoDYI/AAAAAAAAACo/pE-IabJrlD0/s1600-h/100_7873.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Rvct_DnoDYI/AAAAAAAAACo/pE-IabJrlD0/s320/100_7873.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113606463229005186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rebecca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcvDznoDdI/AAAAAAAAADQ/E8U0FfZJhq0/s1600-h/100_7876.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcvDznoDdI/AAAAAAAAADQ/E8U0FfZJhq0/s320/100_7876.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113607644345011666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Matthew not too happy about having his picture taken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Rvct_znoDaI/AAAAAAAAAC4/a7ql367RY2E/s1600-h/100_7880.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Rvct_znoDaI/AAAAAAAAAC4/a7ql367RY2E/s320/100_7880.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113606476113907106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kendall thought this piece was cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcuADnoDbI/AAAAAAAAADA/upufs9gZMIo/s1600-h/100_7878.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcuADnoDbI/AAAAAAAAADA/upufs9gZMIo/s320/100_7878.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113606480408874418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Rebecca's Rock Collection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcwSjnoDfI/AAAAAAAAADg/ysRtkhFFlrs/s1600-h/100_7865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcwSjnoDfI/AAAAAAAAADg/ysRtkhFFlrs/s320/100_7865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113608997259709938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A Praying Mantis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3052127940769012051?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3052127940769012051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3052127940769012051&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3052127940769012051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3052127940769012051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/wood-rocks-and-praying-mantis.html' title='Wood, Rocks and a Praying Mantis'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RvcuWznoDcI/AAAAAAAAADI/YZnyq1y5pZY/s72-c/100_7872.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-5595645446891713431</id><published>2007-09-23T01:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T02:06:08.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>So I was told that I needed to update my Blog.  It's been kind of a hectic week so I'll try to fill in some of the highlights. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday:  I took the 3 little ones to the doctor.  My prediction was wrong.  Dakotta only had 1 ear infected and Corinna had 2.  Elliott has a cold but his ears and lungs were all clear.  Dakotta now weighs enough more than Corinna so that their prescriptions are different dosages.  Just to keep mom on her toes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday:  I met up with some of my friends at the Mall.  The twins were getting a little restless so we took them into the Disney store.  My friend Kari was going to buy them some little stuffed animals.  She let them pick from this shelf with all these cute furry stuffed animals.  They had Minnie Mouse, Donald Duck, Piglet, Dumbo, Thumper, Dalmations, Marie the Kitty.  And what did they pick?  Mater the Tow Truck from CARS.  We had to dig through the pile to find the 2nd Mater. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note:  I've never actually SEEN this movie.  We have a DVD player in the van and I've HEARD it numerous times and could probably quote lots of it.  So tonight as I was tucking the kids in I looked at their stuff trucks and realize he's "Tow Mater."  I asked Matthew if he knew that and he said "I've never actually SEEN the movie"  I'm guessing most people knew that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday:  A friend of mine had mentioned how much fun the kids have pretending to wash dishes.  So I filled the sink full of plastic dishes, and soapy water and put a towel on the floor under them.  For the longest time they stood on their stools playing.  I finished what I was doing in the kitchen and went into my living room but decided since they were playing so nicely to let them keep washing dishes.  A few minutes later I hear lots and lots of giggling.  I decide to see what's so funny.  I walk in and my kitchen floor is flooded.  My kitchen sink doesn't have a back splash or a wall behind it.  They had figured out they could reach the faucet from behind the sink.  Well that wouldn't have been so bad.  Except they also realized that they could now reach the sprayer nozzle.  So they took great delight in spraying water clear across my kitchen.  The good news was I got my floor mopped.  The bad new is it may have been foreshadowing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday Night:  When I put Rebecca to bed I heard dripping in her bathroom.  I see water on her sink and the floor is wet.   She says Kendall must have been playing in her sink again.  I clean up the water on the sink and put some towels on the floor.  It's bedtime so I leave them there overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday:  I'm trying to get things together so that Matthew and I can go out for dinner.  (Not to self:  Post about mad frenzy involved before being able to take a break).   Well why I'm trying to get things together I go into Rebecca's room and see the towels.  They're soaked so  I throw them in the washer and put a few more down while wondering what exactly Kendall did to make such a mess.  About this time the kids are home from school and Rebecca points out that there is water coming out of the ceiling in our living room.  At this point I call Matthew who tells me to turn the water off under the sink.  Now I'm kicking myself for just assuming it was my kids and that it never occurred to me I actually had a plumbing problem.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was cleaning it up Rebecca says "This must be the worse day of your life"  (She's always declaring days to be the worst day of her life).  I said, "Nope, not even close. "  She looked a little surprised and asked me what was worse.  I replied "The day my dad died, or the day Dakotta had to have her arm cut open,  lots of things are worse than having a leak."  She gave me a thoughtful look and said, "Oh yeah."  I wonder if we'll be hearing her declare days the of her life any time soon.  Oh and we did have an enjoyable evening out so it couldn't have been that bad.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday:  Rebecca and Kendall were going to spend the night at their cousins house and I was headed to a Tupperware party.  Matthew was helping me load all the kids in the car when he noticed one of the interior light were on in the very back.  One of the twins must have turned it on the last time I was loading them up.   The last time anyone drove the car was Wednesday so of course the battery was dead.   Matthew was able to test the battery,  realize it was dead, go to one store to see they were out,  go to a second store and purchase the battery and get it installed all in about an hour.  I told the kids he was faster than triple A and they just looked at me like I was crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So those are the highlights of my week.  I'll try to post more often.  Maybe if this week will be a little quieter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-5595645446891713431?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/5595645446891713431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=5595645446891713431&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5595645446891713431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5595645446891713431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/random-thoughts.html' title='Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2534102538180834627</id><published>2007-09-17T07:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T08:20:49.691-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it a Stick or a Bug?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u0_b3h7I/AAAAAAAAABY/vkPWkkGuWpg/s1600-h/100_7836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u0_b3h7I/AAAAAAAAABY/vkPWkkGuWpg/s320/100_7836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111144483772663730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's a Stick Bug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca found a stick bug on our deck yesterday. She found one last week on our way to church but we were in a hurry so she didn't get to look at it too much. So when she saw one again she decided to catch it and put it in her bug cage. Last week she caught a moth and a grasshopper and when she went to get them she noticed that the moth was gone. We convinced her that she didn't want to hurt the stick bug so she let it go a little while later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u1fb3h8I/AAAAAAAAABg/10-rZof7Ny4/s1600-h/100_7841.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u1fb3h8I/AAAAAAAAABg/10-rZof7Ny4/s320/100_7841.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111144492362598338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u3fb3h9I/AAAAAAAAABo/0Nub5UHCZDM/s1600-h/100_7848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u3fb3h9I/AAAAAAAAABo/0Nub5UHCZDM/s320/100_7848.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111144526722336722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u3_b3h-I/AAAAAAAAABw/rHh41akQNeo/s1600-h/100_7851.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u3_b3h-I/AAAAAAAAABw/rHh41akQNeo/s320/100_7851.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111144535312271330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night during story time she found a leafbug on the outside of the deck door.  She wasn't as eager to catch that one since the last time she caught one it bit her (actually I think it pinched her).   I didn't get a picture of that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;In other news&lt;/span&gt;.  My 3 little ones have had colds for almost a week now.  I thought they were gettting better but yesterday Dakotta kept telling me her ear was "ouchie" and asking me to kiss it.   So I'm going to call the doctor and see if I can get them all seen today.  If history repeats itself Dakotta will have a double ear infection and Corinna will just have one.   Not sure what to expect from Elliott since this is his first illness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2534102538180834627?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2534102538180834627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2534102538180834627&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2534102538180834627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2534102538180834627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/is-it-stick-or-bug.html' title='Is it a Stick or a Bug?'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/Ru5u0_b3h7I/AAAAAAAAABY/vkPWkkGuWpg/s72-c/100_7836.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-2880027196299839917</id><published>2007-09-15T13:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T13:14:36.439-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Diaper Math</title><content type='html'>Kendall was explaining Diaper math to me the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ask for 1 diaper she gets 1 #2 for Elliott.&lt;br /&gt;If I ask for 2 diapers she gets 2 #3's for the twins.&lt;br /&gt;And if I ask for 3 diapers she gets 1 #2 and 2 #3's. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I need to change just 1 of the twins or Elliott and 1 of the twins I guess I have to get the diapers myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-2880027196299839917?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/2880027196299839917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=2880027196299839917&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2880027196299839917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/2880027196299839917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/diaper-math.html' title='Diaper Math'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7239409519193719216</id><published>2007-09-15T12:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-15T13:15:59.434-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Diaper Duty</title><content type='html'>These are some pictures I took this morning.  That's Dakotta putting a diaper on Rebecca's "lammy"  a Beanie baby lamb she's had since she was 3.   At first Corinna was helping but she got bored with the project while mommy was getting her camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwPL_b3h3I/AAAAAAAAAA4/K6PsD8JmZvA/s1600-h/100_7818a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwPL_b3h3I/AAAAAAAAAA4/K6PsD8JmZvA/s200/100_7818a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110476375839967090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First getting her cleaned up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwQ0vb3h6I/AAAAAAAAABQ/aByjNRLURWo/s1600-h/100_7814.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwQ0vb3h6I/AAAAAAAAABQ/aByjNRLURWo/s200/100_7814.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110478175431264162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Attaching the tabs to the front of the diaper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwPM_b3h5I/AAAAAAAAABI/bKjdpgqCGKU/s1600-h/100_7813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwPM_b3h5I/AAAAAAAAABI/bKjdpgqCGKU/s200/100_7813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110476393019836306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Making some adjustments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Apparently #2 diapers are not the right size for a beanie baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/469298743200052249-7239409519193719216?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7239409519193719216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7239409519193719216&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7239409519193719216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7239409519193719216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/diaper-duty.html' title='Diaper Duty'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_nPK4vq0FERY/RuwPL_b3h3I/AAAAAAAAAA4/K6PsD8JmZvA/s72-c/100_7818a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-7423669236730937548</id><published>2007-09-12T22:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T22:26:41.154-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Daily Dialogue</title><content type='html'>The following is a conversation I have no less than 20 times a day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna: Where's Becca?&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta: Where's Ree Becca?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Rebecca's at school.&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Becca at kool.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta: Ree Becca at kool.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Yes, Rebecca's at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Where'd Kendol go?&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Where's Kendol?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Kendall's at school, she went with Rebecca.&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Kendol at school on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yes Kendall went to school on the bus.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Kendol at school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna: Where'd Daddy go?&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta: Where'd Daddy go?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Daddy's at work.&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Daddy at work.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta: Daddy at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(pause)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Where's Eh Ee It?&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Where's Eh Ee It?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Elliott's asleep.&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Eh Ee It sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Eh Ee it sleeping in his bed.&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Yes, Elliott is sleeping in his bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how we start each morning, it's the conversation we have after nap time and several other times a day.  Of course sometimes the answers change and often they like to add someone to the list.  Today it was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Where's Granny?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Granny's at her house.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Where's Reuben?&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Where's Reuben?&lt;br /&gt;Me:  He's probably working.&lt;br /&gt;Corinna:  Reuben's at work.&lt;br /&gt;Dakotta:  Reuben at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is sprinkled with an ample amount of "What's this?"  all day long.  Now you see why I'm so eager to talk to telemarketers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-7423669236730937548?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/7423669236730937548/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=7423669236730937548&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7423669236730937548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/7423669236730937548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/daily-dialogue.html' title='Daily Dialogue'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-8534619985952821074</id><published>2007-09-11T22:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T23:23:41.926-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I have an answering machine</title><content type='html'>So last night I got to bed early and actually had a decent night's sleep.  I got the big girls off to school with no drama.  And even had a little quiet time to myself before the little ones woke up.   I had gotten them fed and the 4 us of were playing in the living room.   Then the phone rang.   I know I have an answering machine but I have problems just letting the phone ring.   Probably from all those years of not having a answering machine.   Or it could be that I crave adult conversation even if it's with a telemarketer.  So big deal, I answered the phone.   Except for one thing:   I have TWIN TODDLERS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the phone is in the kitchen and I unlatch the gate to the kitchen to get to the phone.  And guess who is right behind but little Search and Destroy.   In the meantime Elliott is not happy about being left alone in the living room so while answering the phone I go to check on him.  I have a short phone conversation and realize "It's QUIET"  which is never a good thing when kids are awake.   I see the gate is unlatched and go back to the kitchen to find 2 chocolate covered peanuts.  They had gotten into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ovaltine&lt;/span&gt; mix and were covered in cocoa dust, as was my kitchen floor.   The good thing is that my laziness has paid off because they are still in their pajamas.  So, I sweep up the mess but notice they are leaving chocolate footprints all over the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No big deal.  I'll just throw them in the shower.    I get Elliott situated in his swing that I keep in my bedroom and get them showered.  So now I've got them all in my room and I'm in the process of getting us all dressed so we can go to the grocery store (and that's an event in itself).  Well while I was changing Corinna, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dakotta&lt;/span&gt; found the diaper ointment.   Now in all fairness she was doing what you are supposed to do with diaper ointment.  She was smearing it all over her butt.  Unfortunately  her skinny butt does not need more than about a marble size squirt and not the golf ball size amount she had already dispensed.  What's that saying "You can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;unsqueeze&lt;/span&gt; the toothpaste"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I get her cleaned up and go get her dressed.   I get Elliott changed and then we head downstairs.   As I turn the corner I see Rebecca's door wide open and realize Corinna has been MIA for the past 5 minutes.   I find her in Rebecca's room covered in PINK.  She had found Rebecca's play make up and was giving herself a makeover.  Now I have to admit my first thought when I saw her was to curse the grandparents that bought the gift.  But in all fairness to said grandparents, I was the one that bought the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ovaltine&lt;/span&gt;.  And the diaper ointment.  And the cereal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes,  let me tell you about the cereal.  In my 8 years of parenting I have learned that 2 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; are diabolically opposed to cereal IN a cereal box.  I could have fed a small nation with the amount of cereal I have swept up, dumped in the sink, and vacuumed in the last 8 years.  So in my rush to get the girls in the shower I had left the gate to the kitchen unlatched AGAIN.  So after cleaning up Corinna (just 10 minutes out of the shower) all I had to do was get Elliott in his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;carseat&lt;/span&gt; so we could get out the door.   I'm ready to get them out the door before they cause any more when I'm greeted with a kitchen floor covered in cocoa puffs.    All this in less than an hour from the point,  I made the fatal error of answering the phone.  Yep, all this because I answered the phone.   So if you call my house and I don't answer,  you'll know why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-8534619985952821074?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/8534619985952821074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=8534619985952821074&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8534619985952821074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/8534619985952821074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/why-i-have-answering-machine.html' title='Why I have an answering machine'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-5055442467489617597</id><published>2007-09-05T21:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T22:02:21.054-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Kendall World</title><content type='html'>Kendall told me today that her imaginary friends are like worms.  You can cut off part of them and they'll grow another head.   I see a career as a science fiction author in her future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-5055442467489617597?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/5055442467489617597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=5055442467489617597&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5055442467489617597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/5055442467489617597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/kendall-world.html' title='Kendall World'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-469298743200052249.post-3354571797475374082</id><published>2007-09-05T13:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T15:36:36.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome</title><content type='html'>Welcome to my blog.   Which is really just a place for me to write down some of the interesting things that happen in my crazy little life before my mommy brain files them away with other forgotten details like where I put my cell phone (after the battery has died).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm married to Matthew and am stay at home mom to Rebecca, 8; Kendall, 5; Corinna &amp; Dakotta 2 and Elliott,  5 moths.   Once upon a time I loved to scrapbook,  throw parties,  stamp,  read, camp, go to the theater and long before that I even loved to work in the theater.   About the only ones of those I still do on a regular basis are camping and reading,  although it has been while since I've actually read anything beyond the 5th grade level.    We are in the process of fixing my basement up to include a craft area so I hope to get back into some of my creative outlets soon.  Right now I spend most of my free time (read that as time nursing while no one else is climbing on me) catching up with the friends in my computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rebecca is my little Granola Girl.  She loves everything outdoors, especially rocks, horses and lambs.  She whistles like a bird and has her sister convinced that she's actually talking to them.  She's a self proclaimed vegetarian who is forced to eat animal flesh by her evil omnivore parents.  She just started the 3rd grade and her favorite subject is science.  Right now by her bedside are her current favorite books, which are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Calvin and Hobbes&lt;/span&gt; (not sure which one),  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The DK Encyclopedia of Science &lt;/span&gt;and a book on horses she checked out of the library at school (and I'm pretty sure she checked the same book out last year).  She is the best big sister.   She loves playing games with Kendall,  giving her twin sister piggy back rides and taking care of her baby brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kendall is my little entertainer.  She wakes up full of energy and ready to tackle the day (we will never know where she gets this because both her parents are night owls).   She loves clothes, especially anything cheetah print or purple.  Her motto is "The louder the better"  and not just when it comes to clothes.   She's excited to be in Kindergarten this year but sometimes her exuberance can get her into trouble.  She loves to make up stories and songs and has a long list of imaginary friends, who we never know when they'll be popping in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Corinna &amp; Dakotta (or Shock &amp;amp; Awe as their dad likes to call them) are our 2 year old identical twin girls.   Corinna is my little chatter box and very out going.   Her middle name is Scout and it is very fitting.  She jumps head first into things (literally and figuratively).   She can also be very bossy and is a little mommy to Elliott.  Dakotta is more laid back.  She lets Corinna explore while she is quietly in a corner coloring, playing with blocks or reading a book.  Dakotta is also a Daddy's Girl.   From the time she could crawl she was the first one to Daddy the minute he walked in the door.   The majority of my day is spent trying to stay one step ahead of these two.  And if I don't the rest of the day is spent cleaning up after them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's Elliott,  the apple of his sisters' eyes.  He is a very happy and easy going baby, but then he has 5 females that attend to his every need.  The boy isn't allowed to cry without someone coming to the rescue.  He loves to sit around watching all the craziness that goes on in this house.  He's anxious to be on the move.  He waits until Mom isn't looking and then he traverses the floor.  He's not crawling but that doesn't stop him.    He also enjoys watching sports with his dad.   The kid is bound to understand the game of football before his mom  ever does. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ring leader of this circus is my husband Matthew.  He spends his days in a nice quiet (relatively speaking)  office building where he works in IT for a "Needs Fulfillment" company (whatever that means).   I'm sure he will tell me that I've gotten the lingo all messed up so I won't go into the specifics of what he does.   The important thing is it pays decent and he gets excellent benefits (like going to the bathroom by himself and a real lunch break that doesn't involve anyone throwing half eaten peanut butter sandwiches at him).    He's the fun parent.  The one that watches cartoons with them and throws them around and plays his guitar so they can dance around half dressed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/469298743200052249-3354571797475374082?l=hardinhive.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/feeds/3354571797475374082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=469298743200052249&amp;postID=3354571797475374082&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3354571797475374082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/469298743200052249/posts/default/3354571797475374082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hardinhive.blogspot.com/2007/09/welcome.html' title='Welcome'/><author><name>Melissa Hardin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17469640608864833457</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
