<?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-8757286036147373179</id><updated>2011-07-31T03:48:53.838-07:00</updated><category term='my ramblings'/><title type='text'>Kristie's Voice</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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>28</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-1649678272521425591</id><published>2010-01-09T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-09T07:17:27.685-08:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Pain's Christmas Party - Part A</title><content type='html'>My first experience with any celebrity &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/S0ibZ2RkR7I/AAAAAAAAADc/SkFDHud9hjM/s1600-h/2038-81-199x300%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 199px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424756619535992754" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/S0ibZ2RkR7I/AAAAAAAAADc/SkFDHud9hjM/s320/2038-81-199x300%5B1%5D.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;was this Christmas when I got the chance to attend T-Pain's Christmas party!  If you're not at all familiar with who he is, you're not alone!  I didn't know either!  But, I got the call from my husband the mid morning we were getting ready to go in to Atlanta for dinner.  It went a little like this:  "Would you at all be interested in going to a party of a famous rapper after we go to dinner?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if you know ME, you know I happen to love rap music!  My sister and I must share the same strange gene, because we are both the same in regards to a heavy bass beat.  Most of our best running &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;play list&lt;/span&gt; songs are rap - makes us move more, I guess.  At any rate, we're as white as it gets, as sweet and southern as they come, and some of the most God loving girls you'll ever meet.  Still, we love rap!  Go figure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;SO&lt;/span&gt;, of course my answer was SURE!!!  But the questions started rolling through my "Careful Kristie" head, a nick-name I've apparently earned.  Would we be safe?  Would the drinks be spiked?  Would it go down?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-1649678272521425591?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/1649678272521425591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=1649678272521425591' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1649678272521425591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1649678272521425591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2010/01/t-pains-christmas-party-part.html' title='T-Pain&apos;s Christmas Party - Part A'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/S0ibZ2RkR7I/AAAAAAAAADc/SkFDHud9hjM/s72-c/2038-81-199x300%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-6241382277600968878</id><published>2009-11-16T11:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T11:24:09.531-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The new leaf</title><content type='html'>Okay, I've turned over a new leaf, and I'm going to tell you guys about it so that you'll hold me to it.  You know those cars you get into, and you think they must've just had them detailed?  Or they must not live in them like you do?  Well, that's my new minivan.  And in a minute, I'll take a picture of it and post it.  Maybe I'll do that right now......no, I don't have my shoes on and I have 8 minutes until I need to leave for carpool.  So you'll have to wait.  But that's my car now, no my minivan, and it looks like we just detailed it on the inside!  And it's been that way for 8 days now!  And it's going to stay that way, because I'm really tired of it being disgusting!  Love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-6241382277600968878?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/6241382277600968878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=6241382277600968878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/6241382277600968878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/6241382277600968878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-leaf.html' title='The new leaf'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-5224275158148308430</id><published>2009-06-26T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T11:00:57.951-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet friends, cherishing much</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SkULjPo-6mI/AAAAAAAAADU/eak3AyjNn3s/s1600-h/sarah+and+addie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351696432321456738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SkULjPo-6mI/AAAAAAAAADU/eak3AyjNn3s/s320/sarah+and+addie.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sweet friends, sweet stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, Daniel had the privilege of taking Sarah (on the right) to see a dance recital with her sweet friend Addie.  They had a lot of different songs and dances that were beautiful, but the one that touched Daniel the most was when all of the Dads got on stage and their daughters danced with them to the song by Steven Curtis Chapman, "Cinderella."  If you haven't heard it, it's about the precious relationship between fathers and daughters, and will make even the most manly shed a tear or ten.  He said it was not possible to hold back - wasn't ashamed, either.  Happy Father's Day to all of the dads out there! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Michael Jackson - ok, I liked him a lot. In fact, when I was 12, I thought I would marry him one day. Is that crazy, or what? I remember staying up late for "Friday Night Videos" in the hopes that "Thriller" would come on. My best friend Kathryn and I have the words to "The Girl is Mine" memorized, and often play it out- she's Paul, I'm Michael. We all remember the best of Michael Jackson, the talent, the moves, the amazing voice, the family. I'm already letting the weirdo/quircky memories of him fade. I have plans to download his tunes to my ipod, to look for the documentary which we all know will be put together soon, and to keep my eyes open for his memoirs. But sadly enough, before yesterday, I hadn't given him much thought. I would've considered his music on my top 10 list of faves, yet had been able to replace him with others more recent. I keep thinking that we cherish the things that are no longer with us far greater than when they are right in front of our eyes/ears, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week, I cashed in on the massage gift certificate that Daniel gave me for Valentine's Day -- wooo hoooo!! Thanks again, Daniel! Anyway, the sweet girl that gave me the massage has the same thoughts about life and death that I do. It goes along this theme of MJ. Yet the difference is that she's seen all too often the quick passing of loved ones and has been able to learn to hold them close, to tell them how much she loves them, and to not let the sun set on any anger. It's sometimes frustrating to have the thought run through your mind that "this could be the last......." but it keeps you aware of what you have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet grandmother goes to a surgeon next week for a biopsy on her breast; she found a golf ball sized mass last week. It's scary for us all, but she's amazingly strong. She's 88 years old, and told the doctor that he better fix her up fast, "Cuz I'm going on a cruise in September, and I want to be well for that!" We'll be praying for her results to be negative on the c word!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm off to the pool - let me hear from you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kristie&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-5224275158148308430?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/5224275158148308430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=5224275158148308430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/5224275158148308430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/5224275158148308430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2009/06/sweet-friends-cherishing-much.html' title='Sweet friends, cherishing much'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SkULjPo-6mI/AAAAAAAAADU/eak3AyjNn3s/s72-c/sarah+and+addie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-2339568174343352921</id><published>2009-05-08T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T13:05:45.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SgSPulF5lqI/AAAAAAAAADE/dlDPiptK1tg/s1600-h/sawgrass-lg-8_16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333545889107121826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SgSPulF5lqI/AAAAAAAAADE/dlDPiptK1tg/s320/sawgrass-lg-8_16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TPC&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sawgrass&lt;/span&gt;!!!! Okay, you golfers! I'm turning greener than the greens themselves! This weekend's tournament is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;alltime&lt;/span&gt; favorite, mainly because I got a chance to watch years ago when Fred Couples was the hot ticket at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;TPC&lt;/span&gt;. If only I could be there again! It's such a plush, gorgeous course, and the surrounding area is just scrumptious for golfers. If I could beam myself somewhere this weekend, I'd go there. Looks like I'll have to settle for Macon and Mother's Day instead. Oh to be back in college, without a care in the world. But to all the mothers out there, what a wonderful chance to not only receive the thanks from the family, but to reflect on what an amazing job we are honored to have. Motherhood has been fantastic, and it's the toughest job you'll ever love! I love you, Mama, and I'm thankful for all you've taught me, most importantly your longtime warning, "If you have doubts about it, Kristie, don't do it!" I can't say how many times I didn't listen, but every time, she was right! Ha&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SgSQD663zYI/AAAAAAAAADM/TXmLBYQi_z0/s1600-h/sawgrass-sm-3_16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333546255743700354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 319px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 281px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SgSQD663zYI/AAAAAAAAADM/TXmLBYQi_z0/s320/sawgrass-sm-3_16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ppy Mother's Day! I love you!  And to my kids, thanks for being so wonderful, loving, and most of all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;resilient&lt;/span&gt;!  I love you two!!&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/8757286036147373179-2339568174343352921?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2339568174343352921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2339568174343352921' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2339568174343352921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2339568174343352921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2009/05/tpc-sawgrass-okay-you-golfers-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SgSPulF5lqI/AAAAAAAAADE/dlDPiptK1tg/s72-c/sawgrass-lg-8_16.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-2544561902799940265</id><published>2009-01-26T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T06:24:48.446-08:00</updated><title type='text'>AD and BC</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SX3GcEuqdEI/AAAAAAAAAC8/_IfiMf84o5w/s1600-h/Scriptorium.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295606922465670210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SX3GcEuqdEI/AAAAAAAAAC8/_IfiMf84o5w/s320/Scriptorium.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a class="image" title="Dionysius Exiguus invented Anno Domini years to date Easter." href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Scriptorium.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has recently occurred to me that the dating system we use on a daily basis is completely calculated on the sole recognition factor that Jesus Christ was born. I know we all know this, but I've lately contemplated this fact and it has hit me deeply.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Taken from Wikipedia: &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Anno Domini (sometimes spelled Anno Domine, abbreviated as AD or A.D.) and Before Christ (abbreviated as BC or B.C.) are designations used to number years in the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="Julian calendar" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julian_calendar"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Julian&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="Gregorian calendar" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gregorian_calendar"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Gregorian calendars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;. The &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="Calendar era" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calendar_era"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;calendar era&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; that they refer to is based on the traditionally reckoned year of the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="Annunciation" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Annunciation"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;conception&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; or &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="Nativity of Jesus" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nativity_of_Jesus"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;birth&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a class="mw-redirect" title="Jesus Christ" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesus_Christ"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Jesus Christ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, with AD denoting years after the start of this &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="Epoch" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epoch"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;epoch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;, and BC denoting years before the start of this epoch."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If we are all in the year 2009, all over the world, then we are all recognizing that 2009 years ago, Jesus Christ was conceived, or born. And if we base our calendar on that fact, why wouldn't we base our lives on his teachings? It puzzles me that there are so many religions out there, so many ways to live, so many options to life ever after. It concerns me that I think sometimes, "How and why do I believe what I believe?" Sometimes my faith is all I have, and often times I wonder how I could relay to someone how much better their live would be with a little faith. I think a lot of times I couldn't convince someone to believe in God because I have no real proof that He exists, except that thing called faith! Then it hit me that we're all basing our daily life, our numbered years on the conception or birth of Jesus himself! Wow! That is amazing! If some religions don't recognize Jesus as God's son, then are they in a different year? What year would they say they are in? Just something in my head today! Things that make you go hmmmmm...........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-2544561902799940265?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2544561902799940265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2544561902799940265' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2544561902799940265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2544561902799940265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2009/01/ad-and-bc.html' title='AD and BC'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SX3GcEuqdEI/AAAAAAAAAC8/_IfiMf84o5w/s72-c/Scriptorium.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-475305674404244430</id><published>2008-12-09T05:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T06:09:34.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>More Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/ST57oKgRHzI/AAAAAAAAAC0/w6CDBxluNls/s1600-h/100-0078_IMG.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277791743269478194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/ST57oKgRHzI/AAAAAAAAAC0/w6CDBxluNls/s320/100-0078_IMG.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just believe there is too much stuff everywhere. Take yourself to the cheese aisle in the grocery store. How many different kinds do we need? I appreciate all kinds, but do I need them? No! What about the laundry aisle? There are too many choices there, too! Socks - how many do we need? To quote my daughter's favorite show (Hannah Monontana - spelling is descriptive of her pronunciation), "A pair and a spare!" This Christmas season, you would think we are all going to do better this year on the stuff subject - but I wonder who will? Will we rush out to stuff the stockings? Will we count the presents and think we need more??? Even my own father is guilty of sending me shopping for my mother with the instructions of : I want her to have a lot to open! If we teach our children early that they don't get so much at Christmas, we'll probably have more years of peace. The demands in the lists to Santa are sad; they don't have to be! Yes, my children know we celebrate Jesus being born, but Santa is the first thing they talk about and look for traces of when they wake up on Christmas morning. We have 100+ stuffed animals in our home, 200+ cheap toys from the dollar aisle at Wal-Mart, and countless freebies/surprises from the fast food industry. My husband loves t-shirts and has hundreds from all of the places he's been, races he's run, jobs he's had, restaurants he's eaten in, and more. I'm not a shoe girl, but I'm guilty of owning more than one bottle of lotion or perfume! Anyway, as we reflect in a time of economic instability, let us remember that precious Baby Jesus that came to Earth to guide and teach us love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control, and did it without sin. Then He gave up his life so we could spend eternity in Heaven. Now that's some heavy stuff, and we will could never have too much of that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Picture of Sarah on Christmas day, age 1yr4mos)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-475305674404244430?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/475305674404244430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=475305674404244430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/475305674404244430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/475305674404244430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/12/more-stuff.html' title='More Stuff'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/ST57oKgRHzI/AAAAAAAAAC0/w6CDBxluNls/s72-c/100-0078_IMG.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-2977671372358039791</id><published>2008-12-05T05:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-05T08:25:09.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Facebook</title><content type='html'>Okay, that's where I've been lately! Facebook! It's so ridiculously addicting and both Daniel and I are surprised that we ever started. Needless to say, it's fun and interesting, and takes away the mystery of wondering where the long lost friends from college are and what they look like and what the did when they grew up, if ever. If you've never seen facebook, everyone has their own page, or wall, and they post pictures of themselves and update what they are doing each day. The best thing about facebook is that you catch up with someone in a sentence or two, and you quickly have found 100+ friends without writing emails back and forth, attaching pictures, etc. If you're a facebook friend, you know that you enjoy a quick update on friends from your past without spending a whole lot of time on email and it makes you so much more connected as if you are all in a room talking! I think of it as a street, more than a room! One of my newest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;friends is living in Macon, and after 2 sentences I found out how she got there (it's my college town, so I always find interest in those who stayed)! I'll hope to see you there, and if not, I hope you'll come back here as I promise to Blog more!! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-2977671372358039791?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2977671372358039791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2977671372358039791' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2977671372358039791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2977671372358039791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/12/facebook.html' title='Facebook'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-4964824139945149180</id><published>2008-10-21T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T18:51:49.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SP6EAL6QFoI/AAAAAAAAACs/WX6BgEs58Ok/s1600-h/Destin+2008+217.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259786553547298434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SP6EAL6QFoI/AAAAAAAAACs/WX6BgEs58Ok/s320/Destin+2008+217.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hello!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're back from the beach - this picture was taken all the way over on Navarre Beach.  We actually spent 10 days in Destin, but this was one of the last days when we decided to revisit the area we stumbled upon earlier in the week.   The boys went to some aviation museum and on the way back, they saw a shark museum that looked interesting.  We all loaded up one day and took the kids to the shark museum which was okay, but I wouldn't send you there if you weren't already pretty close to it.  Anyway, you know the vacation feeling that time stands still and you're able to say yes more, like to your kids?  For instance, "Yes, we can go to the beach this morning, even though it is 7 a.m."  or  "Yes, you can have that popsicle for breakfast!"  Okay, so we're driving back from the shark "museum" and we see this long bridge, which looks pretty cool.  Cameron and Sarah love bridges and they wanted to drive over it.....so....we said yes.  The next thing we know, we're in this strange place that looks very beautiful, but also very desolate.  We found a public beach access area, and were astonished at the raw beauty of the shore - most importantly - SHE SHELLS!!!!  Well, sea shells for most, but for us they're she shells.  Destin isn't known for the shells, and our family loves shells!  So we spent as much time as the sun would allow gathering up shells, and vowed to return before we headed home.  We did and this picture was the last night of our vacation.  We're pretty messy, but who cares?  I like it because there aren't buildings and people in the background like last year's family pic.  There's more to come on the trip, but in a nut shell? We had a great time, didn't want to come back, life isn't as fun right after vacation, and we can't wait until next year.  Sound familiar?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-4964824139945149180?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/4964824139945149180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=4964824139945149180' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/4964824139945149180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/4964824139945149180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/10/were-back.html' title='We&apos;re back!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SP6EAL6QFoI/AAAAAAAAACs/WX6BgEs58Ok/s72-c/Destin+2008+217.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-957626923251532932</id><published>2008-09-26T18:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-26T19:33:48.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Compare Days</title><content type='html'>This voicemail transcription is from June, 2002 from my sister. My how things have changed. I received this voicemail while in Hawaii with our good friends the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chapmans&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. Daniel and I were newly married, just 11 months in, and were on vacation in Hawaii.  Niki had just had her second child, Trey, in May. It's hysterical for me to re-read this, and thankfully I wrote every word down before I deleted it. What brought this to my attention is that as I sit here at home on this Friday night, tracking Daniel's intercontinental flight, I compared our days in my head. He's been in Paris under the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Eiffel&lt;/span&gt; Tower, I've been in Social Circle. He's flown 11 hours non-stop to Salt Lake City, had dinner and a movie with adults, I've taught 7 third graders 5 days straight. He's walked in to a nice, clean hotel room and I've herded cats, I mean kids, out the door and left many a trail. So comparing days is JUST NOT REALLY IDEAL, is it??? I'm not jealous, I mean that. I just am observant. Just aware of the situation, that's all.  He's been gone since Tuesday and won't be home till Sunday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay it's Niki, it's Monday morning about 9. Let's compare days: So far, I got up at midnight, I got up at 3. I've been up since 6. I've put a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;whiny&lt;/span&gt; child (big sister Kate, age 5) back to bed already because she's been whining my head off. I've started a load of laundry, I've cleaned up my kitchen, and now I'm about to sit down and make a grocery list. YOU on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; other hand, oh, and it looks like it's about to rain. It's nasty and you know Macon stinks when it rains. You on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; other hand probably haven't gotten up yet, but if you have you're enjoying a leisurely breakfast I'm sure at a nice hotel IN HAWAII and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;probably&lt;/span&gt; going to spend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;some&lt;/span&gt; time out in the sun or something fun &amp;amp; romantic, maybe a nice brunch with friends, no children &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt;, then at your leisure &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;you'll&lt;/span&gt; fly back to Atlanta and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;come&lt;/span&gt; back to your home where there again are no children involved and you will enjoy a relaxing summer. So I have an idea to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;prepare&lt;/span&gt; you for what might one day be your life: Next Thursday...."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, she was right about how we were spending our days in Hawaii.  She then went on to describe how she needed my help running a day camp at her house where she and her friends had come up with a way to have 8 summer days kid free at the expense of one full day of all eight kids at your house. Well, of course I did it and "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;life guarded&lt;/span&gt;" all 8 of the "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;rugrats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;" as she called them, helped with crafts and lunch, and they went home happy and tired.  It was a great idea that I intend to copy next summer, call me to sign yours up!  But oh how quickly that one day became my life and I began to do the same thing.  I began to compare days.  We all do.  It's a bad habit we should all break, because when it comes down to it, we generally compare our day to someone we think has it better than we do.  Why don't we compare our day to someone who doesn't.  Maybe then we'll become a little more grateful, not that we aren't most days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just thought about that conversation/message tonight as I was tempted to "compare days."  Mine is minutes from ending.  Daniel's still flying; he has 6 hours to go.  I'm going to get in bed, where there is a cute red head waiting for me!  His name is Cameron, and he's 5, is wearing shark pj's and has 3 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;band aids&lt;/span&gt; on his knees over which he's protecting small suspected ringworm sites from spreading. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Nitey&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;nite&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-957626923251532932?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/957626923251532932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=957626923251532932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/957626923251532932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/957626923251532932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/09/lets-compare-days.html' title='Let&apos;s Compare Days'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-6026733384822179785</id><published>2008-09-23T17:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T18:51:02.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Countdown</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmcO_gwFnI/AAAAAAAAACc/MmZybwOPri0/s1600-h/our+room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249398622057928306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmcO_gwFnI/AAAAAAAAACc/MmZybwOPri0/s320/our+room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmXbym1vcI/AAAAAAAAACE/1MlbDRnJf7w/s1600-h/beach+08.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249393344373964226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmXbym1vcI/AAAAAAAAACE/1MlbDRnJf7w/s320/beach+08.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're on the countdown to our annual beach trip! Yes, on October 4th, we'll be driving the long drive down to Destin....in two cars.....with only 3 people in each car! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It dates back about 15 years ago, maybe more. The first trip I remember taking was with my parents and I took a friend, but my sister didn't go. We went to the small town of Seagrove Beach, Florida, and we rented a small condo there. It was nice, quiet, and extremely relaxing. Through the years, we've changed members of the family that could go, for some reason or another. There were years I stayed home because I was working and couldn't get off, a trip where it was the original Slaughter Family of 4, and then began the additions to the family in the way of kids! I remember several years where just my sister and her daughter Kate went with my parents, and again, I couldn't because of work. But we always went in semi-celebration of both of my parents birthdays. Daddy's is on the 6th of September, Mama's on the 10th. So we always left the first Saturday in September, and stayed through the week until the next Saturday. There were trips that were shortened due to hurricanes, and the infamous ruined trip the week of September 11, 2001. I didn't go that year; Daniel and I were newlyweds and I was teaching my first year in Social Circle. It was horrific. Daniel was actually in New York, but not in the city, and my parents were at the beach. For days. Daniel was grounded for about 4 days, my parents didn't come home until Saturday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But the trip remains a much anticipated one, nonetheless. We moved our condo to the big city of Destin. Yeah, it's a little too busy for me, little too crowded; I prefer Sea Island, my dad prefers a high-rise. He wins. He also wins in the car situation. One year we flew Delta; once in our Cessna-182. In fact, it was the year of Hurricane Katrina and we were dropping off Daniel's aunt after she evacuated Mississippi that we thought if we were going to be at the airport, why not jump on an airplane? That was the time Daniel dropped me at curbside, with a baby, a toddler, two carseats, a double stroller, 4 suitcases, and an elderly aunt who stops to smell the roses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yet most years we've driven two cars, no matter that both vehicles seat 7. Each. Yes, together the cars that we drive down could seat 14 people! But don't try to convince my daddy that we could save on gas, that we could enjoy each other's company, and that it would be less stressful on everyone if we carpooled. WHO DOESN'T CARPOOL TO THE BEACH??? We've gone round and round. He wins, every time. They claim they take too much stuff, that he wants to be able to jump in his own car at any given time and drive to Wal-Mart! OH! That's another hilarious part of this trip! We go to Wal-Mart almost EVERY DAY! How foolish is that? But just knowing that it's a block away keeps you from packing everything because you think, "I'll get it at Wal-Mart?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One year my sister and I joked that the other one better not get pregnant and ruin the trip. Well, guess who got pregnant? Yes, me. With Sarah, and due on July 31st meaning infant at the beach less than 6 weeks old. Maybe you would've done it, but we didn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Luckily, this year and last year, Daniel has been awarded the time off. There were a few years he came late, left early, or didn't get to go at all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we're getting up early Saturday the 4th morning, we're going to tell the kids to go get the stuff they want to take to the beach, and we're telling them that we're going right NOW!!! They're going to go nuts, and we can't wait to see their faces! Just tonight I was talking with Cameron, age 5, about how much he likes to swim in the ocean and he asked me when we were to do that again. I casually said I didn't know; he didn't press it! Oh how I'd love to tell him, but I really believe he'll be ecstatic! So am I! I'll post more on the trip when we return!&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmbfFjc66I/AAAAAAAAACM/rwX5vpVf0lo/s1600-h/destin+07+etc+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249397799046146978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmbfFjc66I/AAAAAAAAACM/rwX5vpVf0lo/s320/destin+07+etc+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I can't wait to see how they've grown in comparison to this picture from last year! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmc3pi4IBI/AAAAAAAAACk/opaujtTmnsg/s1600-h/destin+07+etc+074.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249399320535900178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmc3pi4IBI/AAAAAAAAACk/opaujtTmnsg/s320/destin+07+etc+074.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/8757286036147373179-6026733384822179785?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/6026733384822179785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=6026733384822179785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/6026733384822179785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/6026733384822179785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/09/beach-countdown.html' title='Beach Countdown'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SNmcO_gwFnI/AAAAAAAAACc/MmZybwOPri0/s72-c/our+room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-2159656578481922819</id><published>2008-09-07T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T16:53:48.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SMRm6wa02bI/AAAAAAAAAB8/L8YD627vikc/s1600-h/pawpaw,+me+%26+lori.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5243429025781963186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SMRm6wa02bI/AAAAAAAAAB8/L8YD627vikc/s320/pawpaw,+me+%26+lori.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is Pa-Pa!  We pronounced it "paw-paw" and we loved this man vvvvvery much!  I got this picture a few days ago from my sweet cousin Marti, whose sister is his arms.  I'm the other toddler!  The one with the red and yellow striped shirt.  Pa-Pa passed away when I was a freshman in college, 1991.  He was my dad's dad.  He and my grandmother, "Granny Slaughter" lived in Conyers on a small farm that was a little piece of heaven to us 9 grandchildren.  We had the time of our lives there!  Every Sunday, we ate lunch with my mother's side of the family, and then about 4:00, we would make the drive to Conyers to be with my father's side for dinner and cousin fun.  I don't think we missed a Sunday!  If we did, it was rare.  I could ramble on and on about why this grandfather of mine has part of my heart, responsible for many of my memories, and left a huge legacy to our family.  But perhaps the sweetest thing I get to remember on a daily basis is that his nickname was "Red."  In fact, to most of his friends, and anyone for that matter, they never knew his real name.  He was Red Slaughter.  And it's because he had red hair!  So for those of you who have said to us, "Where'd they get that red hair?" I can tell you it goes way back!  I used to wonder myself, since it wasn't mine or Daniel's hair color.  It wasn't even my parents, or his parents, or even our sibling's.  It's from Pa-Pa.  His real name was Theodore Mateson Slaughter, T.M. for short, but Red for all.  By the way, Cameron's middle name is Theodore!  I love you, Pa-Pa!  Thank you Marti for this flashback!  Love you, too!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-2159656578481922819?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2159656578481922819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2159656578481922819' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2159656578481922819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2159656578481922819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/09/this-is-pa-pa-we-pronounced-it-paw-paw.html' title=''/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SMRm6wa02bI/AAAAAAAAAB8/L8YD627vikc/s72-c/pawpaw,+me+%26+lori.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-7942236491849108479</id><published>2008-09-01T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T15:37:14.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Voices Carry</title><content type='html'>Have you ever sat down to a quiet conversation, only to realize there are others listening?  Or, have you ever listened to a conversation from the table next to yours?  Would you change what you said if you knew somebody was listening?  Obviously, blogging is an open book, but there are some conversations you want to be private and not interrupted.  Yet there's always the knock at the door, the child that finds you locked in the closet on the phone, or the hush of conversation in a crowded room that leaves you public.  Where can you go to get a little piece of quiet?  Trust me, it's not the bathroom, the closet, or the back deck.  They find you.  So hush, hush, keep it down, down, voices carry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-7942236491849108479?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/7942236491849108479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=7942236491849108479' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/7942236491849108479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/7942236491849108479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/09/voices-carry.html' title='Voices Carry'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-5315643435632025226</id><published>2008-09-01T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T15:28:15.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Web Cam</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SLxp8m4oEsI/AAAAAAAAAB0/3wBrRRva84Y/s1600-h/Picture+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241180556303536834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SLxp8m4oEsI/AAAAAAAAAB0/3wBrRRva84Y/s320/Picture+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is me and Cameron showing Daddy his tattoo, and me below sitting in front of the computer, talking to Daniel on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Skype&lt;/span&gt; thing I've blogged about before. You have to sit really still in order for the picture not to be jumbled up, but once you get comfortable , it's not so bad. The kids can't begin to be seen as they can't be still for a second!  Daniel's off to Rio today, for a 9 or so hour flight there, and a 60 something hour layover, then 9 back. Kinda hard to feel sorry for him laying over in Rio for 3 days, huh? Don't feel sorry for me, laboring over th&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SLxoNuamnrI/AAAAAAAAABs/sbmOEUEOK88/s1600-h/Picture+12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241178651359616690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SLxoNuamnrI/AAAAAAAAABs/sbmOEUEOK88/s320/Picture+12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e house and kids, shuttling a mini van loaded with back-packs, papers to grade, and whiny kids after a 5 a.m. wake up.  Actually, I joke about it, but I do love getting up early!  I love it being dark when I hit the off button on the alarm, evidence that I haven't missed a beat of the daylight!  I love getting in the shower groggy, then going through a dark and quiet house to the kitchen where my coffee awaits me.  I love the lamp in my kitchen, the warm light that comes from the glow of the bulb and mixes with the yellow walls behind it.  It's like my own little sunrise.  I'm okay with the fogginess of my head, the minutes that go by unproductive until the caffeine kicks in.  And I love it when the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pitter&lt;/span&gt; patter of little feet turns my head and I see the sweet morning face of one of my kids.  Or better than that, beating them to the wake up call and kissing their faces awake.  I love mornings, and for a while, I had missed that whole 2 hours I've just described.  I am now grateful for a purpose, a reason that gets me up that early.  Yeah, it's hard not to hit the snooze.  But that's a path I don't dare take myself down!  Thanks to the long weekend, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;rejuvenated&lt;/span&gt; and ready to finish the week!  Plus, this begins the countdown to our beach trip! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/8757286036147373179-5315643435632025226?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/5315643435632025226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=5315643435632025226' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/5315643435632025226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/5315643435632025226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/09/our-web-cam.html' title='Our Web Cam'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SLxp8m4oEsI/AAAAAAAAAB0/3wBrRRva84Y/s72-c/Picture+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-2674206695501426963</id><published>2008-08-21T17:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T17:51:03.938-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my ramblings'/><title type='text'>Has it really been 10 days?</title><content type='html'>I'm &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;teaching a class of 7 third graders this year, at the same school where both of my own children attend.  It's been 5 years since I last wore the teacher hat, and it's beginning to feel quite comfortable.  It's also the reason that some of you have called and said I've fallen off the face....forgotten about my other stay-at-home mommy friends.......bailed on late &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nighters&lt;/span&gt;..........not returned phone calls/emails.......not blogged for days.......just to name a few.  For those things, I really am very sorry I've let you down.  Really!  It has taken me, and I'm not even close yet, several days to feel somewhat normal.  But then, I have a weekend of freedom and Monday comes too quickly!  Routines are super important to feeling healthy and vivacious!   So I'm going to wind this down, hope everyone has a great night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-2674206695501426963?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2674206695501426963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2674206695501426963' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2674206695501426963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2674206695501426963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/08/has-it-really-been-10-days.html' title='Has it really been 10 days?'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-7249894926854217778</id><published>2008-08-11T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T14:35:34.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, yeah, I see it now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SKCvSpysHbI/AAAAAAAAABk/l9ZoMOqc_9o/s1600-h/bryant+rittenhouse+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233375501995482546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SKCvSpysHbI/AAAAAAAAABk/l9ZoMOqc_9o/s320/bryant+rittenhouse+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm no expert on diving, but I've always loved watching those who are.  My last attempt at a cannonball left my audience in tears, and left me with a nose full of pool water. It's not that I can't do it, it's really that I have never tried and it truly is harder than it looks!! Well, for me anyway. Now I can do a pretty jackknife, but preacher seat? No. Can opener? No. Cannonball? No way Jose!!!! So when I watch these gorgeous Olympic divers, I'm baffled that not only can they pull off those amazing dives by themselves, but that they can execute simultaneously 2 divers from platform to water! And the form, the beauty, and the sheer magnitude is breathtaking. I'm really enjoying watching the Summer Olympics! What I don't like is after I'm speechless, I hear this announcer critique a small twist here, or a slight knee bend there. Sad. I know they are judged, but if you have to replay to find the fault, is it really worth lost points? I see it in this picture, but didn't see it as I watched it.  Anyway, it's fun to watch with the family and I wish all of them good luck! Makes me wish I would've pursued swimming and diving a little longer than one quarter at college. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-7249894926854217778?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/7249894926854217778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=7249894926854217778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/7249894926854217778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/7249894926854217778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/08/when-was-your-last-cannonball.html' title='Oh, yeah, I see it now'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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/_IUywj3ySf38/SKCvSpysHbI/AAAAAAAAABk/l9ZoMOqc_9o/s72-c/bryant+rittenhouse+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-4241629561748327358</id><published>2008-08-02T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T11:27:53.920-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And he's off!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJSnGURc6rI/AAAAAAAAABM/zUkHtYczRIo/s1600-h/Stockholm+and+N714NM+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229988794246949554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJSnGURc6rI/AAAAAAAAABM/zUkHtYczRIo/s320/Stockholm+and+N714NM+056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time, to Germany. Last trip: Stockholm, Sweden. The pilot would rather stay home and as Cameron says, "work in the basement." Especially since he'll say goodbye to the three year old and when he returns, she'll be four. I think this is the first time he's missed one of their birthdays, and it will definitely be the most long distance destination from which he'll sing Happy Birthday. I always said he had a gene in him that allowed him to travel away from family. Even before he was our daddy and husband, he lived in Hawaii and traveled many months at a time before heading home. I've lived in Macon. I've lived in Atlanta. All about 1 hour away from the home where I was brought as an infant, where my parents still live. Anyway, here's a cool picture, no pun intended, of his last trip that makes it all worth it. We get good stories, great presents, and priceless pictures. Wish I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;could've&lt;/span&gt; joined him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-4241629561748327358?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/4241629561748327358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=4241629561748327358' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/4241629561748327358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/4241629561748327358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-hes-off.html' title='And he&apos;s off!'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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://bp3.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJSnGURc6rI/AAAAAAAAABM/zUkHtYczRIo/s72-c/Stockholm+and+N714NM+056.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-1989527400164356306</id><published>2008-07-30T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T16:29:08.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The end of 714NM</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJSkvoebo2I/AAAAAAAAABE/wFSzlLaYgqw/s1600-h/Stockholm+and+N714NM+177.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229986205509854050" border="0" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJSkvoebo2I/AAAAAAAAABE/wFSzlLaYgqw/s320/Stockholm+and+N714NM+177.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJCoPBeKvmI/AAAAAAAAAA8/h-1gbP4b6SQ/s1600-h/Stockholm+and+N714NM+175.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228864143423618658" border="0" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJCoPBeKvmI/AAAAAAAAAA8/h-1gbP4b6SQ/s320/Stockholm+and+N714NM+175.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We said farewell to a part of our family and our history last week. 714NM left us to go live with a 16 year old boy whose love of flying matches Daniel's quite perfectly. I met 4NM when I first met Daniel, in 1994. It was our first date, to fly over Monroe in this airplane. Daniel was 17 when he got the Cessna 150, and was 38 when he sold it. We've all had fun in this airplane and it will be surely missed! Happy flying 714NM! We love you!&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/8757286036147373179-1989527400164356306?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/1989527400164356306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=1989527400164356306' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1989527400164356306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1989527400164356306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/end-of-714nm.html' title='The end of 714NM'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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://bp3.blogger.com/_IUywj3ySf38/SJSkvoebo2I/AAAAAAAAABE/wFSzlLaYgqw/s72-c/Stockholm+and+N714NM+177.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8757286036147373179.post-6046162389200078231</id><published>2008-07-30T10:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T10:26:22.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The lack of blogging</title><content type='html'>I'm beginning to understand what everyone means about blogging becoming both therapeutic and addicting at the same time!  I can't help but wonder, will I need therapy because I've blogged too much, or will I blog to avoid therapy?  Nonetheless, I find myself going about my day with the thoughts like, "I could write about that in my blog!" or "Nobody would believe this happened to me when I blog about it!"   So lately, there hasn't been a blog posted  and I've felt strange not updating my site!  I've felt guilty and at the same time, all the thoughts have jumbled themselves together so much that I sit here wondering what I was going to say!  The next phase is comparing my blog to others!  I can't update you on current events except that it is terrible to hear about the earthquake in CA, terrible to see how our presidential candidates don't look promising, even more terrible that babies aren't safe around puppies, or that there are times our 911 system lets us down.  But I can leave my newly found wisdom on parenting, life lessons, and promises from above that will hopefully take you to a new dimension of thinking while at the same time keeping you from making the mistake I already did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-6046162389200078231?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/6046162389200078231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=6046162389200078231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/6046162389200078231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/6046162389200078231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/lack-of-blogging.html' title='The lack of blogging'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-1307314119745967298</id><published>2008-07-21T07:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T07:58:01.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa makes a Summer Visit</title><content type='html'>For those of you with small children, who might be nearing the end of your rope of summer fun, here's a glimmer of hope.  If you believe.  I believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa makes his magical visit to our home every year.  In fact, my own mother still believes in him.  So it makes perfect sense that in the day of "don't lie to your kids" or "tell them the real reason of the season" that I'm okay with a little magic.  Make no mistake, we are a family of faith, of prayer, and of understanding the reason we celebrate Christmas.  Our kids know as many details as we do.  And while I may regret it when the truth hits them both, it works for us now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday, after a long weekend of cousins, birthday parties, cookouts, and travel, we had a meltdown.  Well, Sarah had the meltdown.  It began innocently enough, while we were amidst a game of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hide n seek&lt;/span&gt;.  I had been "it" but was this time hiding, conveniently enough in the laundry room where I took advantage of the slow finder and changed out a load of laundry.  I heard the grandparents talking about crying, who it was, where it was, that kind of thing.  Fast forward downstairs, top bunk, Cameron's room.  Both of ours crying.  Cousins not crying.  That's typical.  As it turns out, Sarah had taken a salivating turn to her brother's back for a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hors d'oeuvre &lt;/span&gt;treat to herself.  Luckily, she didn't get a mouthful, but she most definitely made her mark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where does Santa come in?  Well, after much debate with family about whether the punishment fit the crime, I once more discussed the deal with the 3 year old.  And, I told her I'd be making a call to Santa while she was asleep!  Nothing like a Summer check up.  And just like last year, it worked much better than any threat or punishment we've ever dished.  It even comes with a visitor from Elf on the Shelf.  Visit &lt;a href="http://www.elfontheshelf.com/"&gt;www.elfontheshelf.com&lt;/a&gt; website for help with your little ones!  Magic put a spell on us once more, and not a minute too soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-1307314119745967298?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/1307314119745967298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=1307314119745967298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1307314119745967298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1307314119745967298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/santa-makes-summer-visit.html' title='Santa makes a Summer Visit'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-5414277471752619193</id><published>2008-07-15T20:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T20:26:35.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quito</title><content type='html'>The people in Quito, Ecuador may not have much, but they are happy people.  Daniel spent several layovers there, and that was his first and lasting impression.  I like this picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-5414277471752619193?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/5414277471752619193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=5414277471752619193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/5414277471752619193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/5414277471752619193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/quito.html' title='Quito'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-8394683515810057895</id><published>2008-07-15T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-15T20:13:25.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All they need is love</title><content type='html'>Children love to be loved, praised, thought highly of, and payed attention to.  I don't think that is new info to anyone, but something we often forget.  In a day's time, I've been guilty of using phrases like, "Are you serious?  You thought mommy would be happy that you did that?"   I'm no expert, but what I do know is the look in both of my kids eyes when I bring out the positive of a situation, instead of the negative.  When I surround a situation with love.  My kids recently broke a window by throwing marbles in our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sun room&lt;/span&gt;.  My presence?  Negative.  Somewhere in the other end of the house.  Cameron reports, mommy investigates.  My first question was, "Oh wow!  Are you both okay?  Did anyone touch the glass?  Is anyone cut?"  Instead of, "Why did...what were....you're in trouble....give me those....wait till your father gets home.....get to your room!"  No, they don't need to hear that!  What they did need to hear was love and that I thought of their safety first.  These windows are from the floor to the ceiling, 2 stories high, and on somewhat of a hill, with rocks all around!   Luckily it was a small break, didn't require repair immediately, and was on the higher pane.  Luckily, they were throwing marbles, small ones.  Anyway, of course I told them not to do that again, but why?  Not because the windows are probably expensive, or because it would be a hassle to fix, but because their safety is the most important part of my job as their mom.  But I think, no I know, I got more respect that way and I can be sure they won't do it again.  Well, hopeful anyway!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-8394683515810057895?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/8394683515810057895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=8394683515810057895' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/8394683515810057895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/8394683515810057895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/all-they-need-is-love.html' title='All they need is love'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-7220000522108747693</id><published>2008-07-13T21:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:16:40.436-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my ramblings'/><title type='text'>Tomatoes in the Window</title><content type='html'>Yeah, that's right.  They're there.  Two tomatoes in the window sill.  From my sweet grandmother "Granny Jones!"  This &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;should've&lt;/span&gt; been happening sooner than mid July, but I got 'em now.  And they'll be gone tomorrow.  Yum yum.  Thanks Granny Jones, and Happy Birthday!  87 years old, and living in her new home at the end of my parents driveway!  What a life!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-7220000522108747693?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/7220000522108747693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=7220000522108747693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/7220000522108747693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/7220000522108747693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/tomatoes-in-window.html' title='Tomatoes in the Window'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-1797452603327504864</id><published>2008-07-13T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T21:11:30.188-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my ramblings'/><title type='text'>Flight Status</title><content type='html'>It's two minutes 'till midnight, and I'm heading off to bed.  As usual, I take one more look at the flight he's on, where it is, and how much longer he'll be in the air.  I look at the little airplane on the screen, having more of a connection with the little icon than with the truth that it is just that.  An icon.  I get the lump in my throat when I see that he's about to leave the U.S. and head over the "big pond" as he calls it.  As he gets closer to leaving land, I zoom in on his little plane icon, only to see that it's heading in the opposite direction.  Why does it look like he's turning around?  Why does it look like he's making an emergency landing?  Would there be any reason he would need to land in Greenland?  Or Iceland?  What's happening?  But he's not landing there.  Nor is he turning around to come home.  He's just going around weather, or whatever, and for some reason the tracking program picks it up.  Thanks a lot.  All I can say is that it's keeping my heart healthy because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; it changes, I feel my pulse race.  So now I'm x-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ing&lt;/span&gt; out of the tracking system.  And sadly enough, he'll still be in the air when I hear the light footsteps coming up the stairs followed by kisses on the hand.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;That'll&lt;/span&gt; work.  Okay guys, I'm up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-1797452603327504864?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/1797452603327504864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=1797452603327504864' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1797452603327504864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1797452603327504864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/flight-status.html' title='Flight Status'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-2387785002633466217</id><published>2008-07-13T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T20:09:12.962-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping It Holy</title><content type='html'>Sunday is the day to honor our heavenly Father, to praise Him, and to rest as He did.  Today started about as abnormal as any day could have, in our household!  In the words of the parents in "Home Alone" "We slept in!!!"  The kids stayed at my parents last night, on a whim, just because my father is the most amazing grandpa in the world.  He wanted to get Sarah, his "little Kristie" for the night, but when I told her he was coming, she said she didn't want to go.  In the life of 3 year old drama queen, that's pretty normal.  So Cameron, being the tender little man he is, said he would go, so Grandpa wouldn't be sad.  BUT, when Grandpa arrived in a new/used Nissan sedan, Sarah got new ride jealous.  And being the prepared and hopeful grandpa that he is, he had 2 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;car seats&lt;/span&gt; in the back!  Off they went, leaving me and Daniel to stare at each other in amazement.  How perfect is this Saturday night?  So after I payed my respects to a friend who lost his mother, we went to dinner in Athens.  Fast forward to Sunday, and the main point of this post.  It's quiet, it's a king sized bed, and it's Sunday morning past 9.  How did that happen?  Daniel has a late sign in, will be flying all night to Stockholm, and it only made sense to sleep in even more.  But I'm so thankful we are plugged in to our church home, Monroe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;FBC&lt;/span&gt;, and we had two little worshippers waiting for us to sit with them at "big church."  We got there in time for the 11 o'clock call to worship, enjoyed a wonderful sermon, and headed off to the mack-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;deddy&lt;/span&gt; town of Jersey for lunch.  Thank you Dr. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;McGarity&lt;/span&gt; and family for a wonderful restaurant!  So, after lunch, we rested with my parents hanging around in recliners and sofas and watched a cute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Disney&lt;/span&gt; movie.  Daniel left on time, and I squeezed in a trip to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart super center.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, now about the Holy part.  Would God consider my day a day of rest?  Would he consider my actions to be keeping it Holy?  Probably not.  Why is it so hard in this day/age to hold true to biblical principals and truths?  Why are we a self-consumed society, and why am I a part of it?  I'd almost rather be in the decades before electricity, running water, cars, phones, much more than in this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;wifi&lt;/span&gt; world.  What am I doing in my home office at 11pm on my computer?  Why are my kids on the couch in the den watching "Hannah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Monontana&lt;/span&gt;?"  No, not a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;misspelled&lt;/span&gt; word, but my 3 yr &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;old's&lt;/span&gt; version.  Anyway, I couldn't help but wonder today, the Sabbath, if I'll ever get out of this rut and begin to keep it Holy.  Where do we start?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-2387785002633466217?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2387785002633466217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2387785002633466217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2387785002633466217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2387785002633466217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/keeping-it-holy.html' title='Keeping It Holy'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-1337186959477449901</id><published>2008-07-10T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T21:50:33.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New Blog</title><content type='html'>Okay, I've posted these all in one night, but in the event someone finds my blog tonight, I don't want them to hang dry.  Plus, I was curious if I could pull it off!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to stay current on this, so come back if you're interested! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late, and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cicadas&lt;/span&gt; are going crazy.  Hope this night brings no more storms.  It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pj&lt;/span&gt; time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-1337186959477449901?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/1337186959477449901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=1337186959477449901' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1337186959477449901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/1337186959477449901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/new-blog.html' title='New Blog'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-2800630450688000593</id><published>2008-07-10T21:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T21:44:27.995-07:00</updated><title type='text'>On being a Pilot's Wife</title><content type='html'>One of the main reasons this blog is important to me is the voice I can have while my mate is gone!  Sometimes the only adult conversation I have is the call I make to my friends, only to listen to each of our children in the background acting out to gain our attention once more.  Whether your husband works locally or travels, your conversation sees its limits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just today, we were on our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Skype&lt;/span&gt; call, which I highly recommend, with a camera of course, and the kids were bouncing so fast that he couldn't even see them!  I had to hold the camera still, while holding them in my lap so he could get a good glimpse of them!  So of course I couldn't have a needed conversation with him.  Now, he'll come in just about the same time we get up in the morning, he'll have been flying all night, and he'll be utterly exhausted.  The transition from cockpit conversation to Kristie conversation is one we've laughed about for years!  He'll need the skinny details, and I'll just want to ramble on and on.  I'll forget that the man he needed to talk to about the airplane called, that his dad called, that he needs to sign this, pay that.  All I'll really want to know is how long he wants to stay awake, what food he wants, is he planning on a long hot shower, or does he need to jump in, jump out, and dive in the bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we'll be heading out after he starts his day with a long nap, and we'll hope to spend under $100.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-2800630450688000593?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/2800630450688000593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=2800630450688000593' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2800630450688000593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/2800630450688000593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/on-being-pilots-wife.html' title='On being a Pilot&apos;s Wife'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-396710294423720200</id><published>2008-07-10T21:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T21:32:23.240-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My kids</title><content type='html'>We were blessed with 2 beautiful children very quickly after being married for only 1 year.  It makes me very sad to hear about couples that have a hard time conceiving, but at the same moment I'm sad for them, I'm also sad that we didn't experience the "trying" phase of life.  And I don't mean that in a gutter way, but our children came in God's time, not our own.  He completely knew how long we would've waited, so he fixed that quickly.  Well, we're done now, and much to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every one's&lt;/span&gt; dismay, no more red-heads!!  Cameron, our oldest is the bright red that is so striking, but with the most gold flecks I've ever seen!  Sarah's is the dreamiest with enough red to not be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blond&lt;/span&gt;, but strawberry g&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;old-ish&lt;/span&gt;, like Cameron's!  They are 17 months apart but are now so close it's beautiful!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-396710294423720200?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/396710294423720200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=396710294423720200' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/396710294423720200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/396710294423720200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-kids.html' title='My kids'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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-8757286036147373179.post-514484589532651311</id><published>2008-07-10T21:20:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T21:25:38.328-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my ramblings'/><title type='text'>My First Post</title><content type='html'>It's late, I know, but I just ran across an old friend's blog and got all green with envy.  I've done this before and was a little overwhelmed about the entire world reading my thoughts, but I think I can handle it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's after midnight, and I'm extremely tired from doing absolutely nothing all day.  And when I say nothing, I mean nothing out of the ordinary, nothing unique or worth of a bragging word or two.  Daniel left 2 days ago for Santiago, and is somewhere over the South Pacific Ocean right about now.  Me and the two kids spent the day doing laundry, painting, and chasing each other in batman costumes.  We made more of a mess than 3 people should.  So now I've spent the late part of the evening destroying the evidence that we didn't care what we did while daddy was on a trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8757286036147373179-514484589532651311?l=kristiesvoice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/feeds/514484589532651311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8757286036147373179&amp;postID=514484589532651311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/514484589532651311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8757286036147373179/posts/default/514484589532651311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kristiesvoice.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-first-post.html' title='My First Post'/><author><name>Kristie</name><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></feed>
