<?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-1710394887975024000</id><updated>2012-02-16T04:45:39.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Life with the Rayfield Boys</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>15</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-4584211032878471069</id><published>2010-06-30T18:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T19:44:13.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dirty Bathwater</title><content type='html'>This is what we have been doing. Love summertime!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv5g-EQ4AI/AAAAAAAAADA/sy2Dwt3PwaU/s1600/DSC03641.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488754915693092866" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv5g-EQ4AI/AAAAAAAAADA/sy2Dwt3PwaU/s320/DSC03641.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv4zHtQ2oI/AAAAAAAAAC4/6TbDwXOiCs4/s1600/DSC03638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488754128006994562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv4zHtQ2oI/AAAAAAAAAC4/6TbDwXOiCs4/s320/DSC03638.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488753243790275042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv3_pvkceI/AAAAAAAAACw/qRXaVSi4EYk/s320/DSC03636.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488752164776612962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv3A2GqlGI/AAAAAAAAACo/K9JG26thlUI/s320/34254_1518393636679_1139651842_31542805_3973634_n%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488751653506061762" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv2jFeRFcI/AAAAAAAAACg/xxUn6GQHO0w/s320/28481_1518393956687_1139651842_31542806_956508_n%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can say is that we are in for a rude awakening in August when Jonas starts Kindergarten. We have been sleeping in to 8:30. (Before I had babies, I would never have considered 8:30 sleeping in!!) We have been eating a lot of popsicles, ice cream, smoothies, and anything thrown on the grill. We have been catching fireflies, swimming, playing in sprinklers, water tables, and shooting water guns. Bicycling, porch picnics, swinging, and playing in the sandbox have also been a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys are dirty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The bath water turns brown. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The boys sleep like rocks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What more could I ask for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/1710394887975024000-4584211032878471069?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/4584211032878471069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/06/dirty-bathwater.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/4584211032878471069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/4584211032878471069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/06/dirty-bathwater.html' title='Dirty Bathwater'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TCv5g-EQ4AI/AAAAAAAAADA/sy2Dwt3PwaU/s72-c/DSC03641.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-5408729858978930185</id><published>2010-06-20T19:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-20T20:08:55.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;It's summertime!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And we have been super busy!! What have we been doing? Well, let's see.. We had a yard sale. It was a lot of work, but I did make a little bit of money and got rid of some junk. However, I am still overrun with baby toys and clothes. Last week, Jonas had VBS and swim lessons. Jonas went to VBS at his grandmother's church. We had swim lessons at FBC. So, needless to say I felt a bit like a chauffeur. I got a glimpse into the future when I am sure I will spend a majority of my time running the kids to all of their activities. In the midst of all this, Jonas had an allergic reaction to amoxicillin. He had been taking it for strep throat and had been on it for a week. (By the way, who gets strep in the summer???) He woke up on Tuesday with a horrible rash. I gave him a massive dose of Benadryl and then we made yet another trip to the doctor. He was put on a steroid and can no longer have amoxicillin or any "cillin." He was not contagious(just super itchy)so we continued on with all of our activities. Even though I felt that I needed to make a public service announcement everywhere we went stating "It is an allergic reaction, he is not contagious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finished up our week with a Father's Day cookout and some time in the pool. I am amazed at how well Jonas is swimming this summer. He is starting to swim mostly without his floaties. Jacob loves the water too! You have to constantly watch him. He has no fear. He would just jump in by himself if we would let him. It was a fun time with our family celebrating Daddy and Grandaddy. My boys and I are so lucky!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, just some ramblings.... Nothing too exciting-- just life!! But such a sweet life!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485057637518350930" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TB7W3DjTGlI/AAAAAAAAACY/hx-LUcB3N2M/s320/DSC03629.JPG" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-5408729858978930185?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/5408729858978930185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/06/just-life.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/5408729858978930185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/5408729858978930185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/06/just-life.html' title='Just life'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/TB7W3DjTGlI/AAAAAAAAACY/hx-LUcB3N2M/s72-c/DSC03629.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-8764719175853631162</id><published>2010-05-27T18:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T19:30:14.728-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am still here....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Wow! I can't believe that I haven't written anything in 3 1/2 months. I have been busy. Hopefullly things will begin to slow down some this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past month has been a complete blur. I finished up another semester teaching at CSCC. Jonas finished preschool. (sniff sniff). We also took our first family vacation to Disney World. And what a trip that was!! It is the happiest place on earth, but also one of the most tiring. It had moments of sheer delight and moments of sheer &amp;amp;*%#! Jonas loved every moment. Jacob loved it at first, but then he became sick and was pretty cranky the last part of the trip. Needless to say, he threw a couple of fits. Poor little guy. I felt bad for him. Not much fun being trotted all around when you are sick!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I am just so happy it is summertime. We have already been to the pool several times and we are enjoying being outdoors most of the time. The boys are completely worn out at night and have even been sleeping in some. (8:30 whoo hoo!!!) It is nice just being at home and not having to be anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have all kinds of things I want to do this summer, but I have a feeling time will slip away quickly and before I know it I will be taking Jonas for his first day of kindergarten! Hopefully I will not wait that long to post again! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476141400316872354" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/S_8plvmyhqI/AAAAAAAAACQ/I9PezIoCHe8/s320/IMG_3792.JPG" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-8764719175853631162?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/8764719175853631162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-am-still-here.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/8764719175853631162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/8764719175853631162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-am-still-here.html' title='I am still here....'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/S_8plvmyhqI/AAAAAAAAACQ/I9PezIoCHe8/s72-c/IMG_3792.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-1382602678540349087</id><published>2010-02-05T19:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T19:58:14.178-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What to do?</title><content type='html'>What to do? I am faced with a pretty important decision and I can't seem to make up my mind. I am trying to decide if I should start Jonas in Kindergarten this coming fall. Jonas' birthday is at the end of August. The cutoff date for enrollment is the end of September. I had just assumed Jonas would start school, until I met with my pediatrician during a checkup. He was adamant about Jonas not starting school when he would be one of the youngest in his class. He feels that most boys are just not ready for school and would benefit from another year before starting school. It really got me thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of my thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brent wants to hold him back. He doesn't want him to be the youngest in his class. ( I am sure this mostly has to do with sports. ) Jonas has completed 2 years of preschool so he could attend FBC Kindergarten and then start Kindergarten at a public school the following year. However, I do worry that he will become bored. He can write his name and knows letters and letter sounds.  I feel that he would do fine academically, but maybe he needs another year for maturity and such.  His bestest bud (aka cousin) is starting Kindergarten in the fall and they would be at the same school.   Most Kindergarten teachers advise me to hold him back because he is a boy. However, the one Kindergarten teacher that really knows Jonas thinks he would be ready. I do like the thought of not officially starting school for another year. I think all day Kindergarten is too long. He is used to going 3 days a week for 1/2 a day. FBC's program is only 1/2 day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See all my ramblings???? I could over analyze this to death!! (Just ask all my friends and family....) So, what do you think? Help, please?????&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-1382602678540349087?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/1382602678540349087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-to-do.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/1382602678540349087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/1382602678540349087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/02/what-to-do.html' title='What to do?'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-8783945470322276475</id><published>2010-01-02T18:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T19:21:58.638-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suggestions</title><content type='html'>I dislike New Year's resolutions. Mainly because I never keep them. So this year I decided to not make any resolutions, but make "suggestions." That way I won't feel so bad when I inevitably break them. So here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Be more patient (with ALL my boys!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Try not to plan out every detail of my day ( a little more impulsive, maybe???)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Watch less mindless TV after the kids are in bed (This will be hard during these first few cold months)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Be more easygoing (this correlates with #2)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Take more bubble baths&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Play more with the boys instead of doing housework&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Cook without using a recipe (or just cook more!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Be encouraging instead of discouraging&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Organize my photos&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Save more, shop less (this one is painful, even to type)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Get out of my pj's before Brent gets home from work (once again, will be difficult during these cold winter months) A little makeup might be nice too....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. And last, but not least: eat better and exercise (the whopper jr. and fries I had today doesn't count-- I'll start tomorrow :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Many people look forward to the new year for a new start on old habits. ~Author Unknown&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-8783945470322276475?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/8783945470322276475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/01/suggestions.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/8783945470322276475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/8783945470322276475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2010/01/suggestions.html' title='Suggestions'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-7723474000629364588</id><published>2009-12-04T19:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T20:10:18.060-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Same difference</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/SxndCUjxutI/AAAAAAAAACA/JCOWAheJICY/s1600-h/IMG_3293+-+Copy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 171px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411599459210607314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/SxndCUjxutI/AAAAAAAAACA/JCOWAheJICY/s200/IMG_3293+-+Copy.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took the boys to see Santa this week. I had already predicted what I thought would happen. Jonas would eagerly jump into Santa's lap and Jacob would cry. And, I was exactly right. Isn't it funny how different your children can be??? When you are raising children of the same sex, you expect there will be many similarities. You practice on the first one and by the time the second one gets here you think you have it all figured out. Surprise!!!! What worked with your firstborn doesn't always do the trick with the second one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, Jacob has been a much easier baby. Probably for a variety of reasons: a slightly less neurotic mom, experience, and a paci. Ah, yes the pacifier... Jonas never took a paci. I didn't really even understand or think that it was that big of a deal. That was until I had Jacob and he immediately took to the paci. He loves it! (And still does!!) The paci has made my life so much easier. I used to look at those children (you know-- the ones that were way too big to have a paci) and say I would never let my ??year old still have a paci. Well, I just may eat my words one day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do love seeing all the ways they are alike and different. Jonas is such a people person and Jacob is more calm and quiet. (Kind of like Mommy and Daddy, right?) Jonas is rough and tumble and Jacob prefers to watch (for now!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess only time will tell who these sweet boys turn out to be. And I get a front row seat!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-7723474000629364588?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/7723474000629364588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-took-boys-to-see-santa-this-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/7723474000629364588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/7723474000629364588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-took-boys-to-see-santa-this-week.html' title='Same difference'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/SxndCUjxutI/AAAAAAAAACA/JCOWAheJICY/s72-c/IMG_3293+-+Copy.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-3602891484887120360</id><published>2009-11-22T19:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T20:40:46.592-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to share this.  I went to Jonas' Thanksgiving preschool program.  The children had been working hard on a special Thanksgiving song.  After they sang, they were asked to tell what they were thankful for.  When the microphone was placed in front of Jonas, he said "I am thankful for my baby brother."  It was probably one of the sweetest moments of my life.  I was tearing up so badly, I could hardly keep the video camera going.  I have to say I hope this is the way he always feels.  I hope I raise 2 boys who are the best of friends that always take care of one another and remain close. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A friend is a brother who was once a bother.  ~Author Unknown&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-3602891484887120360?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/3602891484887120360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/11/thankful.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/3602891484887120360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/3602891484887120360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/11/thankful.html' title='Thankful'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-1415419305950364321</id><published>2009-11-15T18:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T18:47:09.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What to do?</title><content type='html'>I guess I can no longer use that old excuse I just had a baby. Jacob is 17 months old. It is time. I have put it off long enough. I am not having anymore babies. Those nagging 10 (ish) extra pounds that have invaded my body and refuse to leave need to be dealt with. I am not sure if it is my age or what, but I can't seem to drop them. Here is the problem. I hate to exercise. You know how everyone says "Once you get started, you will love it! You just haven't given it enough time!" Not so much... The second problem is I love to eat. Since I am a stay at home mom, I find myself snacking terribly during the day. I also allow myself "treats" when I have had a rough day. Thirdly, when? When is there time to exericse or plan/grocery shop/learn to cook low calorie meals (that the kids will eat)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what to do? I guess I can ask Santa for my 20 year old metabolism back. Or I could try to walk tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I will worry about it tomorrow. There is an Oreo calling my name..... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-1415419305950364321?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/1415419305950364321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-to-do.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/1415419305950364321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/1415419305950364321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-to-do.html' title='What to do?'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-3622141504946876935</id><published>2009-11-01T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T18:08:55.686-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time for bed!!</title><content type='html'>I love my children.  Very much.  But, it has been that kind of day.  You know the kind when you look at the clock and can't believe that there are 4 more hours until you can tuck their sweet little cheeks into bed.  Was it the sugar high or the fact that Daddy went fishing???  Brent left before we got up this morning and wasn't expected home until dark.  No big deal.  I have the children everyday all week long.  ALL WEEK LONG...  I should be used to it, right??  Not so much.  I need Brent's help on weeknights and weekends.  To maintain my sanity.  I honestly don't know how people do it without help.  It takes a village....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I sent Brent on his merry way and I am glad he had some time for one of his multiple hobbies.  :)  Because I feel a shopping trip coming.  A long full day of shopping!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-3622141504946876935?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/3622141504946876935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/11/time-for-bed.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/3622141504946876935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/3622141504946876935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/11/time-for-bed.html' title='Time for bed!!'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-9041462353093806551</id><published>2009-10-21T11:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T19:12:52.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother of the Year</title><content type='html'>So I should win the Mother of the Year Award, right??? Not so much.  I had one of those moments that I hope will not land my child on the couch of some shrink some day...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jonas came home from school last week and I checked his backpack like I usually do. Inside there were papers, crafts, and a toy.  A toy that did not belong to him. It was some kind of action figure. I calmly asked Jonas where it came from. He replied. "Hmmm, I am not sure who put that in my backpack. But it fell out and Mrs. Jeni (his teacher) told me to put it in my backpack." I then said "How did it get in your backpack in the first place?" He said, " Maybe someone put it there." Now, I have never thought that Jonas would ever take anything that wasn't his. Also, he usually fesses up pretty quickly when he has done something wrong. But, something just didn't seem to add up. So, I started to interrogate him. (just a little side note -- I was majorly PMSing that day.) Anyway, I kept asking him over and over what happened. He began to cry and said it was his friend's toy.   For some reason, I just knew that he had taken it from his friend and put it in his backpack, even though he had never done anything like that before! It finally ended with a time-out and a long lecture on telling the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the next school day, Jonas and I went in and he was supposed to give the toy to his friend and apologize. His friend was not there yet, so I gave Mrs. Jeni the toy. She said, "I remember this toy. When we were putting up our backpacks, it was laying on Jonas' bag and I told him to put it in his backpack."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOPS!!! I hugged Jonas and told him that everything was fine and we would talk after school. Meanwhile, I shrunk back to the car and felt like dirt for the rest of the day. Don't get me wrong, I was thrilled Jonas wasn't a klepto and he was just doing what his teacher had asked. (Even though, I did point out to him that he should have told Mrs. Jeni it was his friend's toy.) I was just feeling terrible that I had falsely accused and not considered him innocent until proven guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there it is. My bad mommy moment. Hopefully he will not be permanently scarred. But I am pretty sure he will never take anything that doesn't belong to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Life Lessons Lectures&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lying. Check.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Stealing. Check.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mommy doesn't always get it right. Check&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-9041462353093806551?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/9041462353093806551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/10/mother-of-year.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/9041462353093806551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/9041462353093806551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/10/mother-of-year.html' title='Mother of the Year'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-2906644119257153633</id><published>2009-10-12T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T18:26:28.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Love You Forever</title><content type='html'>I was first introduced to the book "Love You Forever" in one of my children's literature classes at TTU.  I remember thinking it was a sweet book.  When I was teaching elementary school, I always read it to my children.  They thought it was hilarious.  That mother crawling across the floor was hysterical.  The deeper meaning of the book went over their heads, of course. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also read this book to Jonas since he was a baby.  Tonight as I was putting Jonas to bed, he picked it as his nighttime story.  I noticed as I was reading the book, he was really getting into it.  When we were finished he said, "Mommy, do you want me to be a little boy forever?"  I hesitated slightly and said "Well, yes in some ways.   Mommy will miss these special times, but I want you to grow up and have a happy and healthy life."  Jonas then said, "When I move out, will you come visit me every day."  I happily responded "Oh, yes!!!"  (As I said a silent prayer for a good daughter-in-law who just adores her mother-in-law.)  It was a really special moment and then Jonas said, "Good, I will need to have someone help pick up my toys!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I'll love you forever&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll like you for always&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As long as I'm living&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My baby you'll be."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;             -"Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-2906644119257153633?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/2906644119257153633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/10/ill-love-you-forever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/2906644119257153633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/2906644119257153633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/10/ill-love-you-forever.html' title='I&apos;ll Love You Forever'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-2628197374307492949</id><published>2009-10-09T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:57:45.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying, Really??</title><content type='html'>So I found myself watching an episode of The Young and the Restless and crying. One of the characters had died (not even one I really liked all that much), but I am sitting there crying at the memorial. What has happened to me???? Yes, I have watched the Y&amp;amp;R since I was little. I can tell you about all of the character's sordid family trees and how many times they have died and came back to life. But it is not just soap operas I find myself crying at. It can be a commercial, a news story, a TV drama, a book, a song, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can only come to one conclusion. Mommyhood has made me sappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was never one of those girls who cried all the time about things. (Not to say that I didn't have swollen eyes for about 2 days after watching Stepmom or Steel Magnolias.) I just didn't cry all that much, especially about everyday things. However, something shifted in my hormones (or my heart) when I had my children. I find myself tearing up even when I talk about my boys. Even if I am telling a funny story about them. Or something cute they did. It can be downright embarrassing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So call me hormonal, sappy, emotional, or unbalanced. :) I like the softer side. I think it helps keep me connected to what is really important (and that includes waterproof mascara). And just think, in no time at all, holiday commercials will start airing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;BTW, have you seen that AT&amp;amp;T commercial where the little girl is looking for her lost dog?? The young man takes a picture of the lost poster and sends it to everyone he knows. Eventually the dog is found and reunited with the little girl. Gets me everytime!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-2628197374307492949?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/2628197374307492949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/10/crying-really.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/2628197374307492949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/2628197374307492949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/10/crying-really.html' title='Crying, Really??'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-1421143158773643718</id><published>2009-09-30T17:54:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-30T18:26:58.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Glimpse of the Future</title><content type='html'>Jonas and I have this little game we play. Every time we pass a motorcycle Jonas says "Mommy, I am going to get one of those." To which I reply "Oh no, Mommy's heart would break from worry." And it goes on and on. He thinks it is hilarious and I get a kick out of it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until...... I realize he probably will want one of those some day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brent and I have very different opinions on this subject matter. I would prefer Jonas and Jacob to never do anything remotely life-threatening. I dislike motorcycles, four-wheelers, hunting, etc. These are some of Brent's favorite hobbies. He thinks that it would be an injustice for the boys not to experience all of these things. To compound the problem, Jonas idolizes Brent. He wants to be just like Daddy. (which is cute in most ways...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I can see that somewhere along the way there will have to be some compromise. Not sure how that is going to work, yet....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But luckily I have time. Time to watch Bambi over and over again, pointing out the hunter's cruelty. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"We ... we made it, Mother!" he panted."We made it!"There was no answer."Mother?" Bambi faltered.Silence.Bambi walked to the entrance of the thicket and peeked out into the woods.There was no sign of his mother. "Mother!" Bambi cried again. "Mother, where are you?" A light snow was beginning to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;fait&lt;/span&gt;. Trembling, Bambi cautiously left the thicket. His mother was nowhere in sight. Where could she be? He knew she was out there somewhere. Why didn't she answer?"Mother!" - Disney's Bambi&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-1421143158773643718?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/1421143158773643718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/09/glimpse-of-future.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/1421143158773643718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/1421143158773643718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/09/glimpse-of-future.html' title='A Glimpse of the Future'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-6602022956830555895</id><published>2009-09-27T17:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T18:23:42.563-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Grief</title><content type='html'>So, tomorrow it has been five years since my daughter Emaline died.  I remember vividly that night when the doctors told Brent and I there was nothing left they could do for her.  We buried her 2 days later. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the following days, many people had advice, words of wisdom, comfort, etc.  One of my older cousins said to me "You will smile again.  You will laugh again.  You will find joy in things again."  I knew logically this must be true, but couldn't fathom a situation that would make that possible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be perfectly honest, I was livid.  I couldn't understand why this had happened to me.  I was constantly noticing pregnant ladies or women with small babies and wondering why they were so lucky....  so blessed....  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could say that I just came out of my grief because I felt at peace with the situation.  But, that was not the case.  I began to do better when I was given a little thread of hope.   A positive sign on a pregnancy test.   Even though I did not get my hopes up too high,  I couldn't help thinking that maybe this time would be different.  Maybe this time I would bring a baby home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over time, it gets easier.  That doesn't mean that I don't think of Emaline daily.  I wonder who she would have been.   I wonder what it would have been like to raise a daughter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can look back and think of how much has changed in 5 years.  I laugh daily at something silly Jonas says.  I smile daily as I watch Jacob toddle around.  I have joy because of my 2 sweet gifts.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to his fold, so he picks a rosebud before it can grow old."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-6602022956830555895?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/6602022956830555895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-grief.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/6602022956830555895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/6602022956830555895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/09/good-grief.html' title='Good Grief'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1710394887975024000.post-9069672811395791456</id><published>2009-09-25T20:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T20:39:33.740-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why blog?</title><content type='html'>I am not really sure what motivated me to blog.  I love to read other people's blogs, but I never really thought I had anything extra special to say.  Perhaps, that is the exact reason to blog.  Most of us love to read about what other people are doing.  Whether it is fun, exciting, or just an average mundane day.   As a stay at home mom, I am sure my posts will deal mostly with the latter.  :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The joy of life is made up of obscure and seemingly mundane victories that gives us our own small satisfactions."   -Billy Joel&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1710394887975024000-9069672811395791456?l=kyleerayfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/feeds/9069672811395791456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/09/why-blog.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/9069672811395791456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1710394887975024000/posts/default/9069672811395791456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kyleerayfield.blogspot.com/2009/09/why-blog.html' title='Why blog?'/><author><name>Kylee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03360799816285518102</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_orlTKXTQpks/Ss_v-RCGxuI/AAAAAAAAABY/7KtYV5G0Q1Y/S220/IMG_2565.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
