tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49641801509366048032024-02-07T15:33:36.502-06:00The Taylor QuartetThe Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-24903090558994985592013-01-09T14:11:00.000-06:002013-01-09T14:11:11.207-06:00Am I Crazy or Lazy? Being a mom to an infant is hard. Prior to having kids, I thought having a night nurse was pathetic - for the faint of heart. Now, I'm googling one as I simultaneously type this post. I can't tell if I'm crazy or lazy but I sit around, day after day, thinking about ways to make my life easier. Truth is, getting up 3 times a night when you can take a catnap is more doable than getting up 3 times a night when you have to feign awakeness at a job all day. I don't mean to insinuate that being a work from home mom is an easy job. Quite the opposite - I couldn't cut it. I love to pee without eyes peering over me or questions being yelled to me from across the house. However, I do miss those catnaps. <br />
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I was an awful work from home mom. In 18 months, I managed to watch the entire SERIES (not seasons) of both Frasier and Friends. I became obsessed with Cash Cab and Judge Judy and never did more than 1 load of laundry a week. Oh, and I still had a housekeeper. I did manage to go to the grocery every day and cook dinner....oh and keep my kid alive. For that, I think I deserve a medal. <br />
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But I digress....<br />
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I'm not sure whether I'm crazy or lazy but here are the things I wish I could invent:<br />
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1. A hand that rocks the cradle (literally...not the psychotic Rebecca De Mornay version). It needs to be portable - rock the cradle, shake the crib, rock the carseat (when it's out of the car) and even do butt pats for when my hand falls asleep.<br />
2. A monitor that only sounds when the cry reaches a certain decibel level. Let me be honest, if you're just a little fussy, I don't want to know about. If you're talking to yourself, it's cute but I don't need to hear. Really only notify me if we're about to have a breakdown. <br />
3. Tape that keeps a paci or a thumb in the a mouth without such tape becoming a choking hazard.<br />
4. NyQuil for babies. No, I do not advocate drugging your infants. However, you show me a baby with RSV or even a bad cold and it's heartbreaking. A little decongestant would go a long way toward my sanity and their snot production....<br />
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I close with my biggest pet peeve of the moment. I love facebook. I love seeing pictures of people's children, their vacations, and their stupid e-cards. However, I cannot STAND it when married friends, who do not yet have children, post about their "date nights." EVERY FREAKING TIME YOU GO ANYWHERE WITH YOUR HUSBAND IT'S A DATE!!! Run to Target for toilet paper = date. Get your car washed = date. Get McDonald's = date. Go to the post office for stamps = date. Please stop posting about our date night at Carabba's when all I want is one 20 minutes shower where my boobs don't explode from the faint crying of a baby I hear in the background. <br />
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And goodnight :)<br />
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<br />The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-28712329837157708762012-12-04T13:33:00.001-06:002012-12-04T13:33:47.414-06:00The Trio Became a QuartetWell, it's been awhile since I blogged and since it's really just a cathartic public journal for me, I'm sure no one is too dismayed. Needless to say, the past 3 months I haven't really had the time to blog. Now that I'm back at work, however, time is on my side...<br />
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Barrett Caroline Taylor arrived to much fanfare on September 8, 2012 at 11:55 a.m. She weighed in at 6 pounds, 11 ounces and 19.25 inches tall. After catching the stomach flu on September 7th (her original delivery date), my c-section was postponed and my perfect hair and makeup photo opportunity ruined. The recovery was horrific and not something I hope to remember. Barrett, however, is incredible. Happy, sweet, cute, giggly..... we really are too blessed!<br />
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The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-90028758045667586742012-06-08T10:57:00.001-05:002012-06-08T10:58:12.791-05:00You're Not That Special.....Perhaps I'm a glass half-empty kind of gal but I always feel like the best is behind me. In college, I missed high school. In my early 20's, I DESPERATELY missed college. Now, in my 30's, I miss them both. Perhaps I miss them because, back then, I thought (okay I <b>knew) </b>I was special. Let's be honest: I've been in the Herald-Dispatch <b>multiple </b>times. I've won trophies. Heck, I've even been voted Most Likely To Succeed. How much more special can one person be? <br />
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I came across a high school graduation speech given by a high school English teacher named David McCullough, Jr. (his father, David McCullough, is a famous author). The speech was considered controversial. However, since I've always viewed my blog as more of a momento for Spence (and now Barrett), I wanted to post it here for them. Perhaps high school is a little young to burst their bubble. Maybe, as was the case with me, the world will bust it for them. Regardless, it's an interesting read (even if I don't agree with every single word). <br />
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> So here we are… commencement… life’s great forward-looking ceremony. (And don’t say, “What about weddings?” Weddings are one-sided and insufficiently effective. Weddings are bride-centric pageantry. Other than conceding to a list of unreasonable demands, the groom just stands there. No stately, hey-everybody-look-at-me procession. No being given away. No identity-changing pronouncement. And can you imagine a television show dedicated to watching guys try on tuxedos? Their fathers sitting there misty-eyed with joy and disbelief, their brothers lurking in the corner muttering with envy. Left to men, weddings would be, after limits-testing procrastination, spontaneous, almost inadvertent… during halftime… on the way to the refrigerator. And then there’s the frequency of failure: statistics tell us half of you will get divorced. A winning percentage like that’ll get you last place in the American League East. The Baltimore Orioles do better than weddings.)</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> But this ceremony… commencement… a commencement works every time. From this day forward… truly… in sickness and in health, through financial fiascos, through midlife crises and passably attractive sales reps at trade shows in Cincinnati, through diminishing tolerance for annoyingness, through every difference, irreconcilable and otherwise, you will stay forever graduated from high school, you and your diploma as one, ‘til death do you part.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> No, commencement is life’s great ceremonial beginning, with its own attendant and highly appropriate symbolism. Fitting, for example, for this auspicious rite of passage, is where we find ourselves this afternoon, the venue. Normally, I avoid clichés like the plague, wouldn’t touch them with a ten-foot pole, but here we are on a literal level playing field. That matters. That says something. And your ceremonial costume… shapeless, uniform, one-size-fits-all. Whether male or female, tall or short, scholar or slacker, spray-tanned prom queen or intergalactic X-Box assassin, each of you is dressed, you’ll notice, exactly the same. And your diploma… but for your name, exactly the same.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> All of this is as it should be, because none of you is special.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> You are not special. You are not exceptional.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> Contrary to what your u9 soccer trophy suggests, your glowing seventh grade report card, despite every assurance of a certain corpulent purple dinosaur, that nice Mister Rogers and your batty Aunt Sylvia, no matter how often your maternal caped crusader has swooped in to save you… you’re nothing special. </em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> Yes, you’ve been pampered, cosseted, doted upon, helmeted, bubble-wrapped. Yes, capable adults with other things to do have held you, kissed you, fed you, wiped your mouth, wiped your bottom, trained you, taught you, tutored you, coached you, listened to you, counseled you, encouraged you, consoled you and encouraged you again. You’ve been nudged, cajoled, wheedled and implored. You’ve been feted and fawned over and called sweetie pie. Yes, you have. And, certainly, we’ve been to your games, your plays, your recitals, your science fairs. Absolutely, smiles ignite when you walk into a room, and hundreds gasp with delight at your every tweet. Why, maybe you’ve even had your picture in the Townsman! And now you’ve conquered high school… and, indisputably, here we all have gathered for you, the pride and joy of this fine community, the first to emerge from that magnificent new building…</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> But do not get the idea you’re anything special. Because you’re not.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> The empirical evidence is everywhere, numbers even an English teacher can’t ignore. Newton, Natick, Nee… I am allowed to say Needham, yes? …that has to be two thousand high school graduates right there, give or take, and that’s just the neighborhood Ns. Across the country no fewer than 3.2 million seniors are graduating about now from more than 37,000 high schools. That’s 37,000 valedictorians… 37,000 class presidents… 92,000 harmonizing altos… 340,000 swaggering jocks… 2,185,967 pairs of Uggs. But why limit ourselves to high school? After all, you’re leaving it. So think about this: even if you’re one in a million, on a planet of 6.8 billion that means there are nearly 7,000 people just like you. Imagine standing somewhere over there on Washington Street on Marathon Monday and watching sixty-eight hundred yous go running by. And consider for a moment the bigger picture: your planet, I’ll remind you, is not the center of its solar system, your solar system is not the center of its galaxy, your galaxy is not the center of the universe. In fact, astrophysicists assure us the universe has no center; therefore, you cannot be it. Neither can Donald Trump… which someone should tell him… although that hair is quite a phenomenon.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> “But, Dave,” you cry, “Walt Whitman tells me I’m my own version of perfection! Epictetus tells me I have the spark of Zeus!” And I don’t disagree. So that makes 6.8 billion examples of perfection, 6.8 billion sparks of Zeus. You see, if everyone is special, then no one is. If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless. In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another–which springs, I think, from our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality — we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement. We have come to see them as the point — and we’re happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that’s the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole. No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it… Now it’s “So what does this get me?” As a consequence, we cheapen worthy endeavors, and building a Guatemalan medical clinic becomes more about the application to Bowdoin than the well-being of Guatemalans. It’s an epidemic — and in its way, not even dear old Wellesley High is immune… one of the best of the 37,000 nationwide, Wellesley High School… where good is no longer good enough, where a B is the new C, and the midlevel curriculum is called Advanced College Placement. And I hope you caught me when I said “one of the best.” I said “one of the best” so we can feel better about ourselves, so we can bask in a little easy distinction, however vague and unverifiable, and count ourselves among the elite, whoever they might be, and enjoy a perceived leg up on the perceived competition. But the phrase defies logic. By definition there can be only one best. You’re it or you’re not.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> If you’ve learned anything in your years here I hope it’s that education should be for, rather than material advantage, the exhilaration of learning. You’ve learned, too, I hope, as Sophocles assured us, that wisdom is the chief element of happiness. (Second is ice cream… just an fyi) I also hope you’ve learned enough to recognize how little you know… how little you know now… at the moment… for today is just the beginning. It’s where you go from here that matters.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> As you commence, then, and before you scatter to the winds, I urge you to do whatever you do for no reason other than you love it and believe in its importance. Don’t bother with work you don’t believe in any more than you would a spouse you’re not crazy about, lest you too find yourself on the wrong side of a Baltimore Orioles comparison. Resist the easy comforts of complacency, the specious glitter of materialism, the narcotic paralysis of self-satisfaction. Be worthy of your advantages. And read… read all the time… read as a matter of principle, as a matter of self-respect. Read as a nourishing staple of life. Develop and protect a moral sensibility and demonstrate the character to apply it. Dream big. Work hard. Think for yourself. Love everything you love, everyone you love, with all your might. And do so, please, with a sense of urgency, for every tick of the clock subtracts from fewer and fewer; and as surely as there are commencements there are cessations, and you’ll be in no condition to enjoy the ceremony attendant to that eventuality no matter how delightful the afternoon.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> The fulfilling life, the distinctive life, the relevant life, is an achievement, not something that will fall into your lap because you’re a nice person or mommy ordered it from the caterer. You’ll note the founding fathers took pains to secure your inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness–quite an active verb, “pursuit”–which leaves, I should think, little time for lying around watching parrots rollerskate on Youtube. The first President Roosevelt, the old rough rider, advocated the strenuous life. Mr. Thoreau wanted to drive life into a corner, to live deep and suck out all the marrow. The poet Mary Oliver tells us to row, row into the swirl and roil. Locally, someone… I forget who… from time to time encourages young scholars to carpe the heck out of the diem. The point is the same: get busy, have at it. Don’t wait for inspiration or passion to find you. Get up, get out, explore, find it yourself, and grab hold with both hands. (Now, before you dash off and get your YOLO tattoo, let me point out the illogic of that trendy little expression–because you can and should live not merely once, but every day of your life. Rather than You Only Live Once, it should be You Live Only Once… but because YLOO doesn’t have the same ring, we shrug and decide it doesn’t matter.)</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> None of this day-seizing, though, this YLOOing, should be interpreted as license for self-indulgence. Like accolades ought to be, the fulfilled life is a consequence, a gratifying byproduct. It’s what happens when you’re thinking about more important things. Climb the mountain not to plant your flag, but to embrace the challenge, enjoy the air and behold the view. Climb it so you can see the world, not so the world can see you. Go to Paris to be in Paris, not to cross it off your list and congratulate yourself for being worldly. Exercise free will and creative, independent thought not for the satisfactions they will bring you, but for the good they will do others, the rest of the 6.8 billion–and those who will follow them. And then you too will discover the great and curious truth of the human experience is that selflessness is the best thing you can do for yourself. The sweetest joys of life, then, come only with the recognition that you’re not special.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> Because everyone is.</em></div>
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<em style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> Congratulations. Good luck. Make for yourselves, please, for your sake and for ours, extraordinary lives.</em></div>
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</div>The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-18444122595029001522012-04-24T15:16:00.002-05:002012-04-24T15:16:19.234-05:00Girls Just Want to Have Fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After 20 long weeks, we confirmed what I had suspected: </div>
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It could have been the horrific nausea, the consistent headaches, or perhaps just my intuition but something told me this baby was a girl. Yesterday, that was confirmed. While Jarrod panics about how to prepare for the arrival of a girl, Spence and I are thrilled. Don't get me wrong - Jarrod will be thrilled but first the panic has to subside. He fears changing a girl diaper ("It just feels wrong"), my likely increased spending habits, and the fact that we will one day likely have to pay for a wedding. <br />
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Spence and I, on the other hand, are excited. I can confirm Jarrod's fears that I am excited for dresses, pink crib bedding, and bows. Spence is excited because Captain America will now have a girlfriend and he won't have to fight a brother over the use of his Thomas bed. <br />
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The day we found out it was a girl, I came home with a horrific headache, spent the majority of the night puking my guts out over a toilet, and realized this little girl was already a trouble maker. We have picked a name: Barrett Caroline Taylor. I can't wait to tell my grandfather. Barrett was his grandfather's last name and he hated him. Even with severe Altzheimer's, you mention the name Barrett and you are greeted with his thoughts that that was "one mean son-of-a-bitch." Based on my sickness, I think he might be onto something with this one (just kidding!) but, nonetheless, I secretly can't wait to see his reaction every time he's reminder that's her name. It's the little things that now give me pleasure. <br />
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Regardless of the drama this little one is already causing, we are thrilled, thankful, and anxiously awaiting her arrival.The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-55084931760421978472012-04-16T12:25:00.004-05:002012-04-17T11:43:37.797-05:00Losing it......I feel like Steve Martin in Father of the Bride when he's at the grocery store, flipping out about why they sell hot dogs in packs of 12 and buns in packs of 8. EVERYTHING right now seems to be getting on my nerves. While I'd love nothing more than a Xanex, that clearly isn't possible in my condition. So, instead, I'm left to try to ignore , forget, or simply explode. Then, I remembered...I have a blog. What do non-parents do on blogs? While I have very few friends who blog about things other than their children, I can only imagine that they must just complain. So, here (in no particular order) are my George Banks complaints of the day:<div><br /></div><div>1. Finding a cute shirt on the sales rack, only to discover they have 20 size XS and nothing else.</div><div>2. Pollen, mold, dust, St. Louis, and anything else I'm allergic to.</div><div>3. Taco Bell: why can't one Taco Bell in the U.S. get a drive-thru order right? How hard is it to remember my mexican pizza?</div><div>4. People saying "We're pregnant." No, I'm pregnant - he will one day have a baby but currently, I'm doing 100% of the work.</div><div>5. People that say they've done laundry when, in fact, the hardest part of laundry (folding it) isn't done. (Okay, that one is specifically directed toward Jarrod who doesn't read my blog). :)</div><div>6. Parents who don't make their children say thank you. </div><div>7. Short toilets. Okay, this one is petty and no one's fault but the toilet maker. But, what is it with toilets that are practically on the ground, causing me back pain to pull my fat self off of them?</div><div>8. Old people. Again, horrible and uncalled for, I know. My grandma asks me during every conversation if I've gained weight. When I say no (because I puked 15 times a day for 8 weeks), she seems shocked. Then, when I confirm I have a growing baby bump, she follows with "so you're probably actually looking thinner in other areas." </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope my George Banks moments don't turn into Fried Green Tomatoes Towanda moments or we might have problems. For now, I'm going to take a Zyrtec, double check my Taco Bell order, and go to bed for experience more horrible nightmares that leave me exhausted. I really should be a professional pregnant person...after all, I'm so enjoyable to be around! :)</div>The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-56206309205958062002012-02-29T13:57:00.003-06:002012-02-29T14:11:50.248-06:00What's a Trio + One?As 100% of you who read my blog (mom and dad) already know, the Taylor Trio is adding a member! Although I would prefer it not be facebook-official (dad), I am almost 12 weeks pregnant. We've been spoiled with two ultrasounds and a doppler confirmation of a strong, fast heartbeat. It's been a rough 6 weeks (with all-day sickness) but I think we're finally ready to celebrate! The new bundle should arrive the first week of September...just in time for my ankles to swell to the size of a bowling ball in the 100 degree St. Louis summer!<div><br /></div><div>Since my last blog, we've obviously had lots going on. Christmas came (and I do hope to post some pics soon) and the all-day sickness began. It was bad! Two weeks ago, I had the flu, a UTI (TMI), and horrific nausea all day long. It was so horrible that my wonderful mamma (and her housekeeper) came all the way to St. Louis to take care of us. We were pampered with a clean house, food in the freezer, and lots of drugs to help with my sickness. Finally, after 6 weeks of constant puking/nausea, last Friday I gave up phenergren! I am praying this feeling lasts because I can do this kind of pregnancy. Two weeks ago, I would've told you that, from here on out, we're adopting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Spence is thrilled about the announcement and is (against his better judgement) rooting for a girl. We have 8 more weeks to wonder.....</div><div><br /></div><div>I haven't downloaded any pictures from my camera so, for now, I leave you with this:<br /><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyHtvi9Ykus922NH0tg0rJuxBTJKjF40V6MELZPzf1A0SzBYGvz-OCehRNIti4PW0dFut51ic2N70p3PGWAEQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-66630674931655695272011-12-06T10:28:00.014-06:002011-12-09T15:17:32.941-06:00The Land Down UnderAUSTRALIA (said in my best Oprah impersonation)! As everyone knows, Jarrod and I spent the Thanksgiving holiday in the land down under. We had an amazing time. The first few and last few days were spent in Sydney with our good friends, Alan and Danelle Bronowicz, while the middle of the trip was spent in Melbourne and the Mornington Peninsula.<br /><br />The flight was L - O - N - G. No matter how many free cranberry and vodkas I consumed or bad movies I watched, there was no getting around the fact that 15 hours in a 30 inch seat is miserable. We did somehow manage to get some sleep and, according to Alan, looked better than most weary travellers upon our arrival in AUSTRALIA at 8:00 a.m.<br /><br />The next few days were spent in Sydney. Some highlights included Manly Beach, fish and chips on the beach, and snorkeling (Jarrod saw incredible fish and a huge octopus).<br /><br />We then flew to Melbourne on Tiger Air (their slogan should be "the ghetto airline of the land down under"), rented a car, and drove to our B&B in St. Andrews Beach on the Mornington Peninsula.<br /><br />The B&B was incredible. Gourmet food, comfy beds, outdoor bathtub, on and on. While on the peninsula, we went to a hot springs resort, ate, visited vineyards, ate, shopped, ate, went kangaroo spotting, ate, explored Melbourne, ate, got couples massages, and ate.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguWWJOItbYMxokORQUMXpD7NE2b1lYMKhswMsDybMEOp0iFzDYqiLIhwtGIeW-6gj-hGRcoJ0jjvGE_QmsWvZ7TcOlUj_aot3QcE4Omo2h63BnYoRLULvF_NfP8IjseFR4kkrxLjjL4_c/s1600/Big+Blue+Backyard.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683059711979013202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguWWJOItbYMxokORQUMXpD7NE2b1lYMKhswMsDybMEOp0iFzDYqiLIhwtGIeW-6gj-hGRcoJ0jjvGE_QmsWvZ7TcOlUj_aot3QcE4Omo2h63BnYoRLULvF_NfP8IjseFR4kkrxLjjL4_c/s320/Big+Blue+Backyard.bmp" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_EqcPES5JqrLc0x9G1pdbRKnaPgPFlLigtIz96m_bS2e6A1wUdlEPi_r9k-WDpYidBQZkIhdHPpJ1nVn2MopeYSUDdDCRPNCatsXp8I5GljZjmvJcCi_LtENtv14hwz1mAMcPbD5IJs/s1600/Breakfast.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683059762777559394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_EqcPES5JqrLc0x9G1pdbRKnaPgPFlLigtIz96m_bS2e6A1wUdlEPi_r9k-WDpYidBQZkIhdHPpJ1nVn2MopeYSUDdDCRPNCatsXp8I5GljZjmvJcCi_LtENtv14hwz1mAMcPbD5IJs/s320/Breakfast.bmp" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_EqcPES5JqrLc0x9G1pdbRKnaPgPFlLigtIz96m_bS2e6A1wUdlEPi_r9k-WDpYidBQZkIhdHPpJ1nVn2MopeYSUDdDCRPNCatsXp8I5GljZjmvJcCi_LtENtv14hwz1mAMcPbD5IJs/s1600/Breakfast.bmp"></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHF1EYW3mHBBwiZruAgHWEG1nZBxE1jvsCZ2wvu63kyDCxPN0T_JMkLLzMdyOPUeK-CJBJARk7mrPIOFmnqwe36JQc1lS7DRN4-tUh3AIWbW_1eNiO-LCE5CYvxWBD7xUUKp6Un71DZ0/s1600/Beach.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683061066976898002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGHF1EYW3mHBBwiZruAgHWEG1nZBxE1jvsCZ2wvu63kyDCxPN0T_JMkLLzMdyOPUeK-CJBJARk7mrPIOFmnqwe36JQc1lS7DRN4-tUh3AIWbW_1eNiO-LCE5CYvxWBD7xUUKp6Un71DZ0/s320/Beach.bmp" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zop4853j3d1Uj0A_CVEY14VaerIzwh0gE93ZL1oyDZ12PbVghmxtTmgvEhTFZobXf2f1AnjzvrBh5r0AHpky401NTdiVRDdjh8GB69tuG4aRKWcILpNT5_YB_UDQCfNDptgBCts0rYs/s1600/Winery.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683061264209293250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zop4853j3d1Uj0A_CVEY14VaerIzwh0gE93ZL1oyDZ12PbVghmxtTmgvEhTFZobXf2f1AnjzvrBh5r0AHpky401NTdiVRDdjh8GB69tuG4aRKWcILpNT5_YB_UDQCfNDptgBCts0rYs/s320/Winery.bmp" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPi_9rpvOAN8CAhHjpaMQHwyNcaPcgPVdiHhm4ZwHqxtAOYz7lFY1tpG7Yn7jim04BUJewCoJQ5agbEKoc21pFkiTBeM3WZ22L1Dob_q6QXMu4v6QGO2j92XoMni210M6AvVrYPMX4jA/s1600/Kangaroo.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683061265655935874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhPi_9rpvOAN8CAhHjpaMQHwyNcaPcgPVdiHhm4ZwHqxtAOYz7lFY1tpG7Yn7jim04BUJewCoJQ5agbEKoc21pFkiTBeM3WZ22L1Dob_q6QXMu4v6QGO2j92XoMni210M6AvVrYPMX4jA/s320/Kangaroo.bmp" /></a><br />Jarrod also got breathalyzed. Yes, breathalyzed. We were driving along the coast, headed home from a day of shopping, when we noticed all the cars forming a line to stop and speak with a policeman. We followed suit, rolled down our window, and waited for (what I assumed) was a wreck or construction. Suddenly, the police was at our window, sticking out a tube and telling Jarrod to "blow." He did - and I guess passed, because off we went. Apparently, it's common practice to avoid civil rights in Australia and require breathalyzers without any cause. Fun fact for those travelling abroad!<br /><br />After four solid days exploring, we said five hail Mary's and boarded Tiger Air back to Sydney. On our return trip, we climbed the Sydney Harbor Bridge, explored the Rocks, ate at Cafe Sydney, and attended the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and Sydney Philharmonic Choir's performance at the Opera House. We also cooked and enjoyed a Thanksgiving feast with our hosts and their friends. Overall, it was an incredible time. We dearly missed Spence but are so thankful for such an amazing opportunity. We're already planning our next couples vacation!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6M4KU1mYVEOSBJd7QVNFZDoybUIixjym4s22QsS9MuSfbZ2hZSdwo8nD41PLQkIHqi0w5LvfEVt_rnq5a7VDpd2Xs8dINUhN_PpE3vlVSQulHoMr81DdWHDQ5WQF46KxEgRjzwDFJ_2k/s1600/Bridge.bmp"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683059039198224786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6M4KU1mYVEOSBJd7QVNFZDoybUIixjym4s22QsS9MuSfbZ2hZSdwo8nD41PLQkIHqi0w5LvfEVt_rnq5a7VDpd2Xs8dINUhN_PpE3vlVSQulHoMr81DdWHDQ5WQF46KxEgRjzwDFJ_2k/s320/Bridge.bmp" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNgEaCbJAZJwKlqRAKvtkJ-KyMjUhGH3SOSod99AdsG2Yrn78IvS6FZ4i6wtSfsJAOuOJ4_YxO_eU0cpqq2-e-Gt3kczVzXBfvTBczGUmQop1Y3y3INVdHr182t95m4l7oTyY7ymyUEk/s1600/Group.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683058833494559890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqNgEaCbJAZJwKlqRAKvtkJ-KyMjUhGH3SOSod99AdsG2Yrn78IvS6FZ4i6wtSfsJAOuOJ4_YxO_eU0cpqq2-e-Gt3kczVzXBfvTBczGUmQop1Y3y3INVdHr182t95m4l7oTyY7ymyUEk/s320/Group.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzQqq9D2ePW9C4YlblNp-l2ykJF-HTUb4kb6svQdYIjvwDhhbZ68lThmqKvX1AeI9omeSjn5aG5YIdP_lb2iirjDqjgtUD46uxbUMD1GlRpSljBntXOn9ZGLEUacb73gicM4DVKAE5wI/s1600/Opera+House.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683059484517725570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzQqq9D2ePW9C4YlblNp-l2ykJF-HTUb4kb6svQdYIjvwDhhbZ68lThmqKvX1AeI9omeSjn5aG5YIdP_lb2iirjDqjgtUD46uxbUMD1GlRpSljBntXOn9ZGLEUacb73gicM4DVKAE5wI/s320/Opera+House.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihzQqq9D2ePW9C4YlblNp-l2ykJF-HTUb4kb6svQdYIjvwDhhbZ68lThmqKvX1AeI9omeSjn5aG5YIdP_lb2iirjDqjgtUD46uxbUMD1GlRpSljBntXOn9ZGLEUacb73gicM4DVKAE5wI/s1600/Opera+House.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTf0G7tnwr2DRlSVrnvlTTUBXr00dLpLL6KmjcRDC96sAiszPLCsCzzTBrSlVvgL7g-wMYukxVXRElpd5xTxpUEtm0sS-jAwFq9kp6TZ8vTq0K-kg_Bgf85xroRG2YbsHAW40yNLFFoc/s1600/J%2526L.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683058966532938690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQTf0G7tnwr2DRlSVrnvlTTUBXr00dLpLL6KmjcRDC96sAiszPLCsCzzTBrSlVvgL7g-wMYukxVXRElpd5xTxpUEtm0sS-jAwFq9kp6TZ8vTq0K-kg_Bgf85xroRG2YbsHAW40yNLFFoc/s320/J%2526L.JPG" /></a><br />Thanks to all who watched/loved Spence while we were gone. Although we're going through Papa and Kiki detox (i.e. telling him "no" and watching him throw fits), we appreciate them more than they know. Love to all!The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-45824674102994429252011-11-30T15:09:00.020-06:002011-12-09T15:16:00.529-06:00Fall UpdateThis fall I have been horrible about blogging. Am I too busy at work, you ask? Oh no, that is not the problem. I'm just too lazy. I read other blogs and get annoyed when they're not updated with regularity but, for my own, I just stare at it and click to the next link. So, here is a general update on the fall.<br /><br /><br />We had surprisingly nice weather here. Relatively mild, gorgeous leaves, lots of sunny days! In September, we went to the Johnson family reunion (Jarrod's mom's family). We drove to Silver Mines, MO to visit with many, many cousins, aunts, and uncles. Spence always loves playing with all of his cousins (second cousins in this case).<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQznm5VLAiVAZJI3idrP3gaUe-TYagmb7FLwzNvgYfo2R0gIbHN39TVAE8s3AqVvFqyR5jSuzsWEINgKKHIyB3GL21hRAfJmklSTsrJ4LVCvzKt-HI5BxHVjTLSGzyzWWej9c-EeuYBY/s1600/DSC_0071%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680905440700778290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwQznm5VLAiVAZJI3idrP3gaUe-TYagmb7FLwzNvgYfo2R0gIbHN39TVAE8s3AqVvFqyR5jSuzsWEINgKKHIyB3GL21hRAfJmklSTsrJ4LVCvzKt-HI5BxHVjTLSGzyzWWej9c-EeuYBY/s320/DSC_0071%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnfERyrg5zUy4rd5QNnWRX_kwS9zzkTsuO6wt3XmOhtz7ZnDPevhXfkWN6brGt1C-EX_-cdCv8Ne4ut4_ewaVx-jrcXjo65LgIWvO-EpiYTw6om8Hl3ICEb5g5kImyoaC8KIGm4TElnaU/s1600/DSC_0084%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680904205666379682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnfERyrg5zUy4rd5QNnWRX_kwS9zzkTsuO6wt3XmOhtz7ZnDPevhXfkWN6brGt1C-EX_-cdCv8Ne4ut4_ewaVx-jrcXjo65LgIWvO-EpiYTw6om8Hl3ICEb5g5kImyoaC8KIGm4TElnaU/s320/DSC_0084%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQKC8aQfNQdqC1TOcfJzczpawOoO3AL0lSk_Z3qPPRuaXkAi9xvrRRL3TMhSOCX0DEcIAyYfyhKekSai4-xAQxZrnFeYM1-W6xUueiKXyKdM9EZsVHiJpCZjN_ZrIwePZ41czHpudgnA/s1600/DSC_0090%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680905502917576098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQKC8aQfNQdqC1TOcfJzczpawOoO3AL0lSk_Z3qPPRuaXkAi9xvrRRL3TMhSOCX0DEcIAyYfyhKekSai4-xAQxZrnFeYM1-W6xUueiKXyKdM9EZsVHiJpCZjN_ZrIwePZ41czHpudgnA/s320/DSC_0090%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Then, came my FAVORITE weekend of the year: the Balloon Glow! This year we didn't plan quite as well. We grabbed wine and cheese and hopped the metro to the park. Unfortunately, we forgot to feed Spence and the food lines were ridiculously long, the weather was less than perfect (a windy night made for some difficulty), and we arrived way too early! Oh well, it was still fun and we learned what not to do for next year. Seriously, people, if you're ever going to visit (which, for most of you, I have completely given up hope) - this is a really cool event!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQN49i8TASZUvy3mEhgJqMK33peJ-uE7D8v-CGERbNLnoq8obtD9NVfa1Yqg6y0JH26fPxaVcV6j8m760MOLvdwD-vNh4dCwznAJ2EMbGV8TrpEPhyphenhyphenKg-QEZHjh_7tPHn3NnvLKDYuY6o/s1600/DSC_0039%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680907443908558402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQN49i8TASZUvy3mEhgJqMK33peJ-uE7D8v-CGERbNLnoq8obtD9NVfa1Yqg6y0JH26fPxaVcV6j8m760MOLvdwD-vNh4dCwznAJ2EMbGV8TrpEPhyphenhyphenKg-QEZHjh_7tPHn3NnvLKDYuY6o/s320/DSC_0039%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><br /><br />In October, my parents came to visit. My dad got to hit with McEnroe/Chang on Friday which I thought was fun to watch! On Saturday, we headed to the pumpkin patch to pick out pumpkins. Kiki then made me work all afternoon carving masterpieces which rotted prior to trick or treat! :)<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbRQJgK8hnSUG_1sAwmBlXfc7Rhht0Q_6n6JHkVKZpJkxKAxpDVDTrgObkR8YcA7568JHkzjn_Wi4VNcNOoqAKd90UOCc__I6lweLr5v1Uo8_LsxuGHc8yimUO6zUer-YkhaV8mpTwAI/s1600/DSC_0218%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680910905093852194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbRQJgK8hnSUG_1sAwmBlXfc7Rhht0Q_6n6JHkVKZpJkxKAxpDVDTrgObkR8YcA7568JHkzjn_Wi4VNcNOoqAKd90UOCc__I6lweLr5v1Uo8_LsxuGHc8yimUO6zUer-YkhaV8mpTwAI/s320/DSC_0218%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRM8SNPVkry5HO13r7QezFSz_3QlCRcd3SouNXzcSDAfOxaZ4v8cm8RLNXxbUNm_h2zy6sWIn_tMbAIDB6-ya4LfR1KqWRA0mdaGCj9fbsOeyFFKDvjiIq4Msv9aedE01-QWqsGM56szA/s1600/DSC_0202%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680910972503863202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRM8SNPVkry5HO13r7QezFSz_3QlCRcd3SouNXzcSDAfOxaZ4v8cm8RLNXxbUNm_h2zy6sWIn_tMbAIDB6-ya4LfR1KqWRA0mdaGCj9fbsOeyFFKDvjiIq4Msv9aedE01-QWqsGM56szA/s320/DSC_0202%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn3rhyoLuOzpyckFxE7uIoaCwzqvwvyL39NpEcBcvw2Hsbq54Xg_LiRn9JGFQObqCDyxmLqwSZHZPG3f-MsehKUOC1lTDFZ0cG5_UOOwCW13EbNjIlxTjj9senf5UFvZoBS-J9iJBGf0/s1600/DSC_0226%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680911049977809186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn3rhyoLuOzpyckFxE7uIoaCwzqvwvyL39NpEcBcvw2Hsbq54Xg_LiRn9JGFQObqCDyxmLqwSZHZPG3f-MsehKUOC1lTDFZ0cG5_UOOwCW13EbNjIlxTjj9senf5UFvZoBS-J9iJBGf0/s320/DSC_0226%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpn3rhyoLuOzpyckFxE7uIoaCwzqvwvyL39NpEcBcvw2Hsbq54Xg_LiRn9JGFQObqCDyxmLqwSZHZPG3f-MsehKUOC1lTDFZ0cG5_UOOwCW13EbNjIlxTjj9senf5UFvZoBS-J9iJBGf0/s1600/DSC_0226%255B1%255D.JPG"></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Then, of course, came Halloween! Our Halloween turned out to be VERY hectic. At noon, I ran to Spence's daycare, got him dressed, and Jarrod and I accompanied him on a parade through the neighborhood with his whole class. Spence loved seeing all of his friends dress up - and I'm pretty sure they all napped in their costumes.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0HIn_5LV0oDQ4jJ1gI2pyuvp0pYD57omcobsK9m1vFGFBRO-QHPa-0nJT_Tvq_Ei0C2qGYrjBWCUxLAjVPYWbLghbPxNGzxXXHtX04gJZMmC3UiAe6-YJf-Gv-4p6Ud-UUnzFP9ZbqQ/s1600/DSCN1112%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680910715583619010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB0HIn_5LV0oDQ4jJ1gI2pyuvp0pYD57omcobsK9m1vFGFBRO-QHPa-0nJT_Tvq_Ei0C2qGYrjBWCUxLAjVPYWbLghbPxNGzxXXHtX04gJZMmC3UiAe6-YJf-Gv-4p6Ud-UUnzFP9ZbqQ/s320/DSCN1112%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7vJNlvN1LcxRO_09ytD6nUI2Tf3KNan_3-fYGAMM_pgt14Z9tYYSIvVfxME5WqmwsCm7MKX7edXnTsInP7soYN6R3WZ8nzokrlBLU5ToLPzlJWkp_JfaYk0egqIvVxwlVIAQYZ5JOsw/s1600/DSCN1119%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680910773909354882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7vJNlvN1LcxRO_09ytD6nUI2Tf3KNan_3-fYGAMM_pgt14Z9tYYSIvVfxME5WqmwsCm7MKX7edXnTsInP7soYN6R3WZ8nzokrlBLU5ToLPzlJWkp_JfaYk0egqIvVxwlVIAQYZ5JOsw/s320/DSCN1119%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />That evening, we went over to our neighbor's house for a quick dinner then lined up at the end of our block (along with the other 40 or 50 kids from our block ALONE - I kid you not) for a 1 block parade for all the parents to see. After that, we had a never-ending stream of kids for trick or treat!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSi1YTZI8aI1G1bGWjZrIvb61VQj-czzobHCNRhrLxl8O4wa2BzwRYkCd0mg4IbN_DyCl5LxhlRtuHMd6_jN2uRzKmvAHNe4HKObFMxgEpnveLscMuM49rdjNKNKwnvirVRm-nEk6dmk8/s1600/DSC_0237%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680910536609303650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSi1YTZI8aI1G1bGWjZrIvb61VQj-czzobHCNRhrLxl8O4wa2BzwRYkCd0mg4IbN_DyCl5LxhlRtuHMd6_jN2uRzKmvAHNe4HKObFMxgEpnveLscMuM49rdjNKNKwnvirVRm-nEk6dmk8/s320/DSC_0237%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXoEy_JwWzeAFkEeknuHlc81Pz1YFXHHERV4mVGZRiC4mGpD7AOW-w_8ufEBxcZGSeXCT0iGO3XdS78aNxu4wCXPFbGqb6BoBHLYNpaqDR7s71X7kAUgJCH9RopTzQBscRrGt2qd4_k4A/s1600/DSC_0230%255B1%255D.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680910602501089586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXoEy_JwWzeAFkEeknuHlc81Pz1YFXHHERV4mVGZRiC4mGpD7AOW-w_8ufEBxcZGSeXCT0iGO3XdS78aNxu4wCXPFbGqb6BoBHLYNpaqDR7s71X7kAUgJCH9RopTzQBscRrGt2qd4_k4A/s320/DSC_0230%255B1%255D.JPG" /></a><br /><br />It's definitely been a busy fall! In addition to all the above, Spence started soccer again, we saw Toy Story on Ice, Spence saw his first movie in the movie theater, and we had lots of fun visiting parks, the zoo, the Magic House, etc.<br /><br /><br /><br />We miss everyone. Love from the Taylor Trio!The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-7085459933119131422011-10-10T13:02:00.003-05:002011-10-10T13:15:04.833-05:00Parenting the Little BoogersJarrod and I really are spoiled. We honestly wonder if we should have other kids because Spence has been relatively (dare I say....) easy. Now, while he is pretty compliant and tender-hearted, he definitely has his moments of madness. He can be whiney and stubborn (both things I'm sure he gets from his dad). :)<br /><br />Anyway, I have felt at a loss recently. It's so difficult to see the bigger picture of discipline. Often, in the middle of a trantrum where we're both buckling down hard, I think "I should've just said 'yes'." We've tried time-out, awards charts, spanking, taking away privileges...all work at temporarily changing the behavior but I'm unsure about real long-term change.<br /><br />This weekend, Jarrod and I went to parenting conference here in STL with Paul Tripp. I expected a typical conference where I'd be ready to peace out the door about an hour in. However, instead, I found myself really entertained, educated, and enlightened (he should use that on his website). Anyway, he began by saying that if a parent's goal is to simply constrain and control behavior, you will have failed as a parent. I immediately realized that was me. I don't care if Spence cusses me under his breath as long as he doesn't throw a tantrum in the bathtube. I'm so concerned with his BEHAVIOR rather than his HEART.<br /><br />He offered great tips on helping children see that their improper motives in their behavior lead to negative consequences.<br /><br />It was so great, in fact, that I bought the DVD to share. I realize that if, in fact, ANYONE actual reads this, they probably live in Huntington where (if we're honest) there aren't a lot of opportunities for incredible speakers. I'd LOVE to let anyone borrow the DVD. It would be easy to get through - I think it's 10 sessions of 25 minutes each.<br /><br />I'm going to be stalking some of you to borrow it (as I've seen your facebook statuses...) :) Anyway, just let me know. While ridiculously convicting it was also inspirng. Love from the big City. :)The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-24983426687562994592011-09-16T12:52:00.004-05:002011-09-16T13:15:36.517-05:00September Already...Summer is over! The positive of this statement is that I no longer have to shield my son's eyes (okay - actually my husband's eyes) from the hoochie shorts and tank "tops" that seem everywhere. The negative is that I no longer get to strut around in my hoochie shorts and tank tops! :)<br /><br />I still hope to one day receive and, therefore, post pictures of my big 3-0 extravagenzas in both Huntington and St. Louis. But, for now, you'll just have to suffer through pictures of the cutest kid in the world!<br /><br />We finished up parent and me soccer this summer. Spence loved playing with his daddy and, lets face it, it's all about the free t-shirt anyway. Spence wants to play again but mommy and daddy are hoping to give it a rest for a little bit. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKyqNLxoxDt_hMR2WMcki7INtkJVhAFDLYGKUVdQOrHUA82AQqVT5dd7Y-iviJmtvSDvyUABe-CmC4lRMHWYkmyEgh_s1nNP2PjIwhIxpop0wU6xfX5YgCfAzXJClihXrwroUWUO6W2k/s1600/Soccer5.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653020280003531106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPKyqNLxoxDt_hMR2WMcki7INtkJVhAFDLYGKUVdQOrHUA82AQqVT5dd7Y-iviJmtvSDvyUABe-CmC4lRMHWYkmyEgh_s1nNP2PjIwhIxpop0wU6xfX5YgCfAzXJClihXrwroUWUO6W2k/s320/Soccer5.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br />Before leaving for Scotland, my brother came to visit! We actually saw him twice in St. Louis this summer (each time before a trip to Europe - can you say spoiled....?) This time, I was a horrible sister & mother by not taking pictures of them together. However, we did go to dinner just the 3 of us (Jarrod was with a friend at a SLU soccer game) and then to the Fountain on Locust for dessert. If you couldn't tell from the picture below, it's Spence's new favorite place.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aqqWYc_Y0m62dtgu9Vu4lMjaNrkz6IaSmW00GRHEnh6u3kObuNGWOcTfipY8fMVhHaCs1aRzqoZyKsAdS4lbuCQZF8Ys6Pk-LX6E_eigRAdrir7cpKwK1Ne5GotIqpZu-lh5F1FMe8U/s1600/icecream.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653020274421863842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aqqWYc_Y0m62dtgu9Vu4lMjaNrkz6IaSmW00GRHEnh6u3kObuNGWOcTfipY8fMVhHaCs1aRzqoZyKsAdS4lbuCQZF8Ys6Pk-LX6E_eigRAdrir7cpKwK1Ne5GotIqpZu-lh5F1FMe8U/s320/icecream.JPG" /></a><br /><br />For awhile this summer, Spence was by-far the most popular of the Taylor Trio. We had birthday parties, end of summer bbqs, back-to-summer picnics...on and on. Below is Daniel's Birthday at BounceU. I was dreading it as, last time, Jarrod and I had to take turn hiking our big booties up this inflatable slides because Spence was too weak to pull himself up them. Fortunately, this time, Spence was able to play without our help. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIO4EllQDNldnt5_fhgP2TvJAEfWPET_zSHrnib8jsuAqIWoPM3qlqKX0VGu7m4tl0BBpEeFOimk2Daf9uG3z2QdaqrPLFznvpglskwBWxVJ_glByKQU7R0pEw7jW2V55IAaelceEAVM/s1600/Daniel%2527s+Party.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653020272494221362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWIO4EllQDNldnt5_fhgP2TvJAEfWPET_zSHrnib8jsuAqIWoPM3qlqKX0VGu7m4tl0BBpEeFOimk2Daf9uG3z2QdaqrPLFznvpglskwBWxVJ_glByKQU7R0pEw7jW2V55IAaelceEAVM/s320/Daniel%2527s+Party.JPG" /></a><br /><br />For Labor Day weekend, we went to Chicago! A lot of Spence's friends had gone to Chicago last summer so Spence was very excited. It would've been great to ride the train up but we really needed a car. The weekend started out with a Covenant v. Wheaton soccer game with our good friends - the Douglass'. They graciously let us stay at their house so we got to see them and enjoy Chicago. Although we had plans to visit the Aquarium, the crowds were too much. Instead we did a transportation tour (a made-up tour by Lindsay) involving taxis, the El, and a double-decker bus. The best part, however, was eating at our favorite restaurant - Frontera Grill - for brunch! Yum.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGpGAqJEQde4a7ushQxJG-eniCsHWLA14C6VZkrBK-gjrpjNhsnQbap6UTPAu7b04D2TSeM9sROuKtXgIZdfSjmycgyDdTuttq9pxjyd2GebyxhrwRHyzocI2Cdcai7RRdKmcdgCLhSo/s1600/Chicago1.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653020268661650210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKGpGAqJEQde4a7ushQxJG-eniCsHWLA14C6VZkrBK-gjrpjNhsnQbap6UTPAu7b04D2TSeM9sROuKtXgIZdfSjmycgyDdTuttq9pxjyd2GebyxhrwRHyzocI2Cdcai7RRdKmcdgCLhSo/s320/Chicago1.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizyT449jNnH9XoJXZzlVtBy_uw0znlFInY4rdweriMl0h56ke6l-_dJf3UMdmD5CslkHPkYvK2onRx77_HPDCGlwAZn-A6jfXwSeWyjeYbjPx3eqWN2Q_9l_xezqAKufn_N1ZniycRL-A/s1600/chicago2.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653020263285695218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizyT449jNnH9XoJXZzlVtBy_uw0znlFInY4rdweriMl0h56ke6l-_dJf3UMdmD5CslkHPkYvK2onRx77_HPDCGlwAZn-A6jfXwSeWyjeYbjPx3eqWN2Q_9l_xezqAKufn_N1ZniycRL-A/s320/chicago2.JPG" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizyT449jNnH9XoJXZzlVtBy_uw0znlFInY4rdweriMl0h56ke6l-_dJf3UMdmD5CslkHPkYvK2onRx77_HPDCGlwAZn-A6jfXwSeWyjeYbjPx3eqWN2Q_9l_xezqAKufn_N1ZniycRL-A/s1600/chicago2.JPG"></a><br />It was a miserably hot, exhausting busy, yet incredibly wonderful summer. Our boy is 3, we are settling into St. Louis, and excited about what the fall will bring! Love to all......The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-77263317194020023992011-08-08T10:40:00.002-05:002011-08-08T10:42:12.385-05:00Boys Will Be Boys<div>Proof that from age 2 to 102, boys love nothing more than annoying girls....</div>
<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTG6LmTgAQMnF6VFp7hVRBCrYObFl7IKwt35KvQnCfjC2gEQgMjaMuLmW_iYIV2_2AxVKI4sX42NTYKP-SRLfEXTwZ4lrM0V1kWuzFvQlp-akHxajVwVhVwW1tgXTzNo_RYytc1RXKGk/s1600/Pool.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638510841923427266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjTG6LmTgAQMnF6VFp7hVRBCrYObFl7IKwt35KvQnCfjC2gEQgMjaMuLmW_iYIV2_2AxVKI4sX42NTYKP-SRLfEXTwZ4lrM0V1kWuzFvQlp-akHxajVwVhVwW1tgXTzNo_RYytc1RXKGk/s320/Pool.JPG" /></a>
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<br />The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-29646105780782502962011-08-04T09:47:00.015-05:002011-08-04T10:38:54.530-05:00Two in ReviewFor Spence, age 2 brought tons of new, exciting (and some sad) things. We moved to St. Louis, made lots of new friends, lost 2 great-grandparents, moved into a new house...the list goes on and on. I wasn't always the best at taking pictures. However, today, his sweet 2 year old teacher gave me a disk with 120 pictures - all of Spence during the last year.<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Year 2 started out in a tiny duplex....with weird neighbors...and kids that don't share.... :)</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvMw4yLC1izueFud2MD0lSHPSsgky9A_y-ZLuE2zgcSLOq3REsNGezim1wQ-aScPYB_XTQ3mCelL1InHy59479-tDlZ8PBybaNsD4jEL9Nd2COtd7gpxl-irPzHeYPdN15UHR2EiAPpg/s1600/Rental"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637022988827873490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvMw4yLC1izueFud2MD0lSHPSsgky9A_y-ZLuE2zgcSLOq3REsNGezim1wQ-aScPYB_XTQ3mCelL1InHy59479-tDlZ8PBybaNsD4jEL9Nd2COtd7gpxl-irPzHeYPdN15UHR2EiAPpg/s320/Rental" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><div>While that was a huge adjustment, daycare was a breeze! Spence immediately loved his teachers, Jill and Missy, and all of his friends - Mia, Daniel, Finley, Roshan, Lucas, Urijah, Nicholas, Josephine, and especially James. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It was an easy transition and Spence loved all of the boys in his class......<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmJi0TDNrUjvE6i842kVbN3m967KSZcBP0bfOGengYLiNNAXCnOLjymfMcL6jw7uxrkHQh0bWZUiFHBcNwhoCJ9B43XijjF75TZzYrSaP0V7H9l9Rbhw_QsEwHBBS8YOavyhAMUN2AAc/s1600/DCC17"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637018534019199266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVmJi0TDNrUjvE6i842kVbN3m967KSZcBP0bfOGengYLiNNAXCnOLjymfMcL6jw7uxrkHQh0bWZUiFHBcNwhoCJ9B43XijjF75TZzYrSaP0V7H9l9Rbhw_QsEwHBBS8YOavyhAMUN2AAc/s320/DCC17" /></a></div><br /><div>Jill started just 1 week after Spence and he absolutely loves her! Apparently, she's quite the storyteller....<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ApWZRiOhhdLqRh6usZFY4P6nZYVbo4vsHUa7EqBMWmR2HOo0j5kzoDTsFGE8lL13T_REExw4UVFGasbfJ_Pg6EF2K2lywHEeUIEWZGSWUQxD0OHnDLCAbAJbpgBWupQu-APl0NIYGb0/s1600/DCC5.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637019039544146066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ApWZRiOhhdLqRh6usZFY4P6nZYVbo4vsHUa7EqBMWmR2HOo0j5kzoDTsFGE8lL13T_REExw4UVFGasbfJ_Pg6EF2K2lywHEeUIEWZGSWUQxD0OHnDLCAbAJbpgBWupQu-APl0NIYGb0/s320/DCC5.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>Spence loves puzzles........<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienZprDr4NJ9wapj4SLVsrJqAAVI0TUzaU16tUfrGCu0p1OFpkW6_L448_rHo4lWsM2p5PzvDNH3aVYd3jM3h7xd25cDuobwv6qZNACqOdglC_pviZJfsyfFZoLifwso_BS1sM8TntBxY/s1600/DCC2.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637018911990930626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEienZprDr4NJ9wapj4SLVsrJqAAVI0TUzaU16tUfrGCu0p1OFpkW6_L448_rHo4lWsM2p5PzvDNH3aVYd3jM3h7xd25cDuobwv6qZNACqOdglC_pviZJfsyfFZoLifwso_BS1sM8TntBxY/s320/DCC2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>and who wouldn't love water play......</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYNBYSs_hz7Dvoqu0fgusWZ9ujsYl6wF170rk9nQHgpNDOIhLBhhJ_6j-y4SWKM6LfhYxw3LOQ5NceFpko0klsN7H39m8g0HsU00P-k0RY0CBnGB9QxiDH-MoAN4HjSheD3qfPcL2K88/s1600/DCC3.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637018981328199746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFYNBYSs_hz7Dvoqu0fgusWZ9ujsYl6wF170rk9nQHgpNDOIhLBhhJ_6j-y4SWKM6LfhYxw3LOQ5NceFpko0klsN7H39m8g0HsU00P-k0RY0CBnGB9QxiDH-MoAN4HjSheD3qfPcL2K88/s320/DCC3.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>"Who gave this kid his medical license....?"<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCr1ofwm5tMRQO-7e1ueDqg0fBKnNa8SEBWekACOAcKwTgxhXYxuqmhEMaGUtiOL46JW1mYKym7o4cSg27JXSX-jusVCWIFL2lul6bqlkmebMy9-A2YI5r1PbwsPyBFcr4sVbdqQJOyA/s1600/DCC12.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637019200970992386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbCr1ofwm5tMRQO-7e1ueDqg0fBKnNa8SEBWekACOAcKwTgxhXYxuqmhEMaGUtiOL46JW1mYKym7o4cSg27JXSX-jusVCWIFL2lul6bqlkmebMy9-A2YI5r1PbwsPyBFcr4sVbdqQJOyA/s320/DCC12.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>Spence's best friend, James, moved to Florida and a few other boys moved up a room, so that left Spence with a lot of girls!</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCqP8XRAWdRTOq8zH0sw1UTLd8vGl6Rfwwx_mGHvc5iQefh4kiyPiwm-4JF6r9SK5Ige5mgtmAUIJj6F06D-piIg9UnZhzCLLPQgvC9_8l9dXqI_oj0U-nuMxGT-gPE0ujkAjBFWqZuU/s1600/DCC4.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637018839072738306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCqP8XRAWdRTOq8zH0sw1UTLd8vGl6Rfwwx_mGHvc5iQefh4kiyPiwm-4JF6r9SK5Ige5mgtmAUIJj6F06D-piIg9UnZhzCLLPQgvC9_8l9dXqI_oj0U-nuMxGT-gPE0ujkAjBFWqZuU/s320/DCC4.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>"The things I do for these girls....."<br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZeNXEVOnO6vTK9UYg2leN016cWT43aaH5e2iNe60d23UfiJIg54zpzHYDh04gw5J6sWr1Ihk6iGPEpu04fdEZKLQWkLZ_pbWxSFTo6Rz1XmKCuFOxat4lVmBHyYMDCpJ37kkmHRMS0c/s1600/DCC11.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637019134279500098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQZeNXEVOnO6vTK9UYg2leN016cWT43aaH5e2iNe60d23UfiJIg54zpzHYDh04gw5J6sWr1Ihk6iGPEpu04fdEZKLQWkLZ_pbWxSFTo6Rz1XmKCuFOxat4lVmBHyYMDCpJ37kkmHRMS0c/s320/DCC11.jpg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGONiFQ3hEt-BsCHJ3mwKS0dUGryXXj41PO4nUyUm4mOZEUjEFjtszj8GVjr7kzyFZIAgZTU6XU_Szj0-jTLbtncZvEgAWcvbRw-04MF1VaCvSSN3WkDfIKxORScOjr7ve86G8MUA40ew/s1600/DCC14.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 240px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5637023629978014466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGONiFQ3hEt-BsCHJ3mwKS0dUGryXXj41PO4nUyUm4mOZEUjEFjtszj8GVjr7kzyFZIAgZTU6XU_Szj0-jTLbtncZvEgAWcvbRw-04MF1VaCvSSN3WkDfIKxORScOjr7ve86G8MUA40ew/s320/DCC14.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>Overall, it's been an amazing year. Spence is growing by the second. He's funny, sweet, charming, strong-willed, and irreplaceable!<br /><br /></div></div>The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-48419773336504008992011-07-19T16:12:00.019-05:002011-07-19T16:50:23.860-05:00Am I Three Yet?Finally an update on the Taylor Trio. So far, this summer has been busy and HOT. Spence has become obsessed with sports. In addition to t-ball and basketball in our backyard, Spence and Jarrod started doing parent-and-me soccer on Saturday mornings. Spence (and Jarrod) have really improved!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCKh_Ayonty6giP-JUl3cyGCSK_A_YIaU0voScLm1-XE22oV4DIhn1h4Z7tuS14mhREXVqhD-zecfg9Ud6cIw7hkRj4DjaqBTElnbFyi-dW8mCbP3eGoj2yKnUUL5dRKBKHcPo3y8rXc/s1600/soccer4"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631176071239910594" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCKh_Ayonty6giP-JUl3cyGCSK_A_YIaU0voScLm1-XE22oV4DIhn1h4Z7tuS14mhREXVqhD-zecfg9Ud6cIw7hkRj4DjaqBTElnbFyi-dW8mCbP3eGoj2yKnUUL5dRKBKHcPo3y8rXc/s320/soccer4" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_1ZR0_u_qOkAbk10OynCuA63yJOqSEBKmNPcJ67Oeif-N4UDYs3V9njNeD9g4WZ8kblTDPq35OUdNVHaYO3QMsPcfgzMaeZzEl6XlsRXNIkSxXsqFArE00peeTzUw59adNy3Ab2yTKo/s1600/soccer2"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631175931122030834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4_1ZR0_u_qOkAbk10OynCuA63yJOqSEBKmNPcJ67Oeif-N4UDYs3V9njNeD9g4WZ8kblTDPq35OUdNVHaYO3QMsPcfgzMaeZzEl6XlsRXNIkSxXsqFArE00peeTzUw59adNy3Ab2yTKo/s320/soccer2" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCKS6B0nWb4aWaXt-P3QA-o9d5rFK-4haYvSQkiWQ52_ur5BedzZNsC8RmC65sXIV3gZnrhER0KzIHUIOKYzlUcL31PHBhLPbk4g05hb18k2uGmcDVU5sdJfxCWjIGlxo-JUnbVT_6yU/s1600/soccer1"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631175808167953682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWCKS6B0nWb4aWaXt-P3QA-o9d5rFK-4haYvSQkiWQ52_ur5BedzZNsC8RmC65sXIV3gZnrhER0KzIHUIOKYzlUcL31PHBhLPbk4g05hb18k2uGmcDVU5sdJfxCWjIGlxo-JUnbVT_6yU/s320/soccer1" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_NWoE8WxXOYYmTRTZKU5p-C70E2BD4uM1t0W3GyZYdTwakiIlMEt4-Rv58LQAxUeWcR1Rg8zwF_1eo4Rl_aW0oq21cAAWFhJlk-BmSBmQErktLgLZI_V6JY8RNSuhSlrzSg6u0Zv_kQ/s1600/soccer3"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631176141092336082" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_NWoE8WxXOYYmTRTZKU5p-C70E2BD4uM1t0W3GyZYdTwakiIlMEt4-Rv58LQAxUeWcR1Rg8zwF_1eo4Rl_aW0oq21cAAWFhJlk-BmSBmQErktLgLZI_V6JY8RNSuhSlrzSg6u0Zv_kQ/s320/soccer3" /></a><br /><br /><br />Also, in case anyone forgot, Spence turned 3! Since his birthday is July 4th and most people are busy, we had his party on July 2nd at the Museum of Transportation. It was tons of fun and Spence was really sweet to his guests. He thanked everyone and really made an effort to play with each kid. We played, ate lunch & cake, and finished with a train ride.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yADwl7uWF0sovU8uA1rplDP7f8E1NmwnuJQec5gTwoYsVs7UUOK3UCwrPcH0jDIzkjbeIdli5AMWDgxhg5KwD2MgHdEAnqS3Ws04ex6UpzYDvh1Ie_I0DeUvfzIC6uzGWctW20dmnO4/s1600/SpenceBday1"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631178697608581698" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1yADwl7uWF0sovU8uA1rplDP7f8E1NmwnuJQec5gTwoYsVs7UUOK3UCwrPcH0jDIzkjbeIdli5AMWDgxhg5KwD2MgHdEAnqS3Ws04ex6UpzYDvh1Ie_I0DeUvfzIC6uzGWctW20dmnO4/s320/SpenceBday1" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yNF9sSqtHCP8elU4VZQynPvJhxYegGl5cKQhmj65cOr0y1LpolebFyAIvzKOvm8Ck0cErqwoCYr-hQnELsZVAuwtjT_GqLnxEwz0v7Tgh0oKMMp10f8JoodYL5PSMd82AVrbuXT98Ec/s1600/SpenceBday6"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631179028157584018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2yNF9sSqtHCP8elU4VZQynPvJhxYegGl5cKQhmj65cOr0y1LpolebFyAIvzKOvm8Ck0cErqwoCYr-hQnELsZVAuwtjT_GqLnxEwz0v7Tgh0oKMMp10f8JoodYL5PSMd82AVrbuXT98Ec/s320/SpenceBday6" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_P76lh6bsvE3eAJ93tnYNVYm-S7Kj5NGqfxC6FxN6cf03LUU6jzG3fUBLuC7hy2v86-hpEl81o3ejZro8zdsxFzTrz8uS4wmMEoNX2Kb4Oc8MTlHRv4zSw3DV3gxLGG-i4z8Q_4vpwlg/s1600/SpenceBday4"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631178888506122370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_P76lh6bsvE3eAJ93tnYNVYm-S7Kj5NGqfxC6FxN6cf03LUU6jzG3fUBLuC7hy2v86-hpEl81o3ejZro8zdsxFzTrz8uS4wmMEoNX2Kb4Oc8MTlHRv4zSw3DV3gxLGG-i4z8Q_4vpwlg/s320/SpenceBday4" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcH_AdiRZpaH2ad553BDXMbGQnG7bN6Cc2MaylkFKVXz3j5wJi7JWJqzIAhkhoR4-U-Tvd58DWU4zJ1tjM11Hud0e7KRYX9MnZ-bwh9DIYh0Rutv8rKSFaW6o2p3N3ALY1SMITTq3NWaE/s1600/SpenceBday3"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631178821754210370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcH_AdiRZpaH2ad553BDXMbGQnG7bN6Cc2MaylkFKVXz3j5wJi7JWJqzIAhkhoR4-U-Tvd58DWU4zJ1tjM11Hud0e7KRYX9MnZ-bwh9DIYh0Rutv8rKSFaW6o2p3N3ALY1SMITTq3NWaE/s320/SpenceBday3" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkuxFYPMPI0KNSKRI4iwh0Y_MsRIpH1Qp8YLIBg2dYb87bsIsHMlcohh_zwKofOq053OdXJ72J1fGW1WQ9-AvoKWKbjqQFaskmqenQOaFY7n49qjmkvphvF_Rijio2cQ2zY98GB1FvgI/s1600/SpenceBday8"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631179156057579298" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimkuxFYPMPI0KNSKRI4iwh0Y_MsRIpH1Qp8YLIBg2dYb87bsIsHMlcohh_zwKofOq053OdXJ72J1fGW1WQ9-AvoKWKbjqQFaskmqenQOaFY7n49qjmkvphvF_Rijio2cQ2zY98GB1FvgI/s320/SpenceBday8" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN8yUUlzmUbnGRXn6QSTP2wsv-iKIT4KnqmmZOt_fsm8iQfEZQnMwWWrCdQCora1VprBZLZckG0i16EtgF1IfJedCC-kpAWt50En8Di-lv3zFK2T3TeHwoKQ0WYNZs0L1iruiqHAT_6s/s1600/SpenceBday7"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631179090383738146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN8yUUlzmUbnGRXn6QSTP2wsv-iKIT4KnqmmZOt_fsm8iQfEZQnMwWWrCdQCora1VprBZLZckG0i16EtgF1IfJedCC-kpAWt50En8Di-lv3zFK2T3TeHwoKQ0WYNZs0L1iruiqHAT_6s/s320/SpenceBday7" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDgTov55tC90B3TffRgC46rqYkbaJGYVMbTNI8QrBuFlfS8g9yIPZavEcR4S_xij8Y754ABK0YhLu5v24D525aoDBtr2SK0XXDeRDSzREMnWLdLYqFiXq5H-BAa8n0u49j8_9omtL5cQ/s1600/SpenceBday9"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631179225391866818" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNDgTov55tC90B3TffRgC46rqYkbaJGYVMbTNI8QrBuFlfS8g9yIPZavEcR4S_xij8Y754ABK0YhLu5v24D525aoDBtr2SK0XXDeRDSzREMnWLdLYqFiXq5H-BAa8n0u49j8_9omtL5cQ/s320/SpenceBday9" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7hcOyzTkvVO27AUkLzoMTmYy9XCcaqBc_DSNM4XojwjILkPBuiTQS1sXiEV-04jaWDn_EldTKJz-l8Q8f5c4PvQwTidYax0J2Yjh5gO9ULb_m7dqc7TXCmjx9d0ctiF-F3WNxAZlKCQs/s1600/SpenceBday10"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631179276930348226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7hcOyzTkvVO27AUkLzoMTmYy9XCcaqBc_DSNM4XojwjILkPBuiTQS1sXiEV-04jaWDn_EldTKJz-l8Q8f5c4PvQwTidYax0J2Yjh5gO9ULb_m7dqc7TXCmjx9d0ctiF-F3WNxAZlKCQs/s320/SpenceBday10" /></a><br /><br />For some reason, no one in St. Louis opens presents at kid's birthday parties. Although, I still think it's odd (and unappreciative - sort of), we followed suit. Therefore, after the party and after his nap, he spent an hour opening all of his gifts. He got tons of puzzles, books, Thomas toys, and other fun things.<br /><br />Then, on his actual birthday, Kiki, Papa, Nanny, and the Taylor Trio all went to Grandmama and Pa's house for another party. Spence was so confused and kept asking "Am I 3 yet?" We had a great time opening MORE presents, visiting with family, and barbecuing. In the end, it was an EXHAUSTING weekend but we wouldn't have wanted it any other way!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb817jerryDU_EHGNSZCfaY3PwkC7jMNL4aca6mpbvbuGbBbGM3_sNFR_nng7uGplYa0edYeENtIPeGNOTkXjYxuE_mnfmGnpDq9QR35wLy93-_AvONflE28TdOwhZMLnLEdYIRAlOYaU/s1600/SpenceBday11.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631182625002739570" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb817jerryDU_EHGNSZCfaY3PwkC7jMNL4aca6mpbvbuGbBbGM3_sNFR_nng7uGplYa0edYeENtIPeGNOTkXjYxuE_mnfmGnpDq9QR35wLy93-_AvONflE28TdOwhZMLnLEdYIRAlOYaU/s320/SpenceBday11.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQ6U0Yvr6aJkeN7FNWEFswahxuTl0OXXGEFfAT7yZjTbNHksP3-VT3SMSTa9BW0fK6nojlFA_6cdgKoONv6FkeKwtF4jeW29IWyjDrM5osPNgEeNUHL1e5WtdTLKSyjCh9wUshHiaUjQ/s1600/SpenceBday12.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631182699189858866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMQ6U0Yvr6aJkeN7FNWEFswahxuTl0OXXGEFfAT7yZjTbNHksP3-VT3SMSTa9BW0fK6nojlFA_6cdgKoONv6FkeKwtF4jeW29IWyjDrM5osPNgEeNUHL1e5WtdTLKSyjCh9wUshHiaUjQ/s320/SpenceBday12.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Love from St. Louis, The Taylor Trio!The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-91291886634912642072011-07-05T15:03:00.002-05:002011-07-05T15:28:50.659-05:00Not What My Hands Have DoneAlthough I have many fun, exciting things to blog about since this weekend was Spence's birthday, this post is solely about me. The fun stuff will follow later this week.<br /><br />While hanging out with friends several days ago, Jarrod said that my blog was "deep." He clearly has only read 1 post - as 99% of my blog is for our family far away who desire to see more pictures/updates of Spence. So, in order to live up to his expectations (and today is our anniversary), I give you my recently thoughts. They are, perhaps, more personal than intended and would better be in a journal. However, since I don't journal and I'm not about to figure out a way to privately blog, they're placed on here.<br /><br />This weekend, my mom said I was emotionally lazy. I think my family often times feel as if I allow Jarrod to run the show not by outwardly agreeing with his decisions but, instead, by failing to express my own. Perhaps it's true. I took her comment to heart and believe it to be accurate. I'm not sure when it started - my lack of desire to be emotionally invested - but it's absolutely happened. I worry that my desire to work is not because I want to work but, rather, I find being a stay-at-home mom so much more emotionally exhausting. I worry that I am racking up bitterness toward Jarrod by allowing our decisions (to move, for example) to becomes ours because I'm too emotionally lazy to exprses my own. <br /><br />It's weird to type that I coward at emotions given that I have absolutely no trouble being a bitch. Cut me off in traffic and watch out. Mention anything that might be "deeper" than I want to go and I shut down.<br /><br />Anyway, in thinking about it more recently, I realized that my laziness is an overreaction to being hurt/devastated by the consequences of my decisions in the past. In fact, I think I'm terrified that one brick removed from the wall might cause such a flood that the banks overflow. As I think of many of my friends, I feel that some are right there with me. Perhaps I surround myself with people that don't pry too much, who value facades, and don't desire genuine honesty! :) I'm clearly not talking about you (whoever you are). I live my life with the facade that I am overly honest and, in truth, I am - but only about the eternally unimportant things.<br /><br />That being said, Jarrod and I have fallen in love with a poem/song that really speaks to my desire to be- that I be emotionally PRESENT in the lives of I love - by admitting my brokenness and accepting the grace He brings. I recommend a listen: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogV7Xpn0-3Y">www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogV7Xpn0-3Y</a>. <br /><br />Love from LindsayThe Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-69682173244147708752011-06-24T14:12:00.002-05:002011-06-24T14:35:33.577-05:00The Song is Too LongFirst, an update on recent activities. We had a great Father's Day weekend. On Saturday, good friends the Scholma's came over with their 3 children. John is about six months older than Spence so they play well together plus their two older girls make sure no one dies in the process! The weather was perfect so we played outside and grilled out. When it got dark, the parents were able to visit while the kids watched movies.<br /><br />For gifts, Spence made Jarrod a cute paper weight at "work" and we both got him a pair of shoes he has wanted forever. On Sunday morning, we took a bike ride to breakfast and then met Jarrod's parents for lunch at Bravo. Yummy!<br /><br />Jarrod and I were also able to get a date night the week before. We packed a picnic basket and went to Shakespeare in the Park's presentation of The Taming of the Shrew. It was really entertaining and a beautiful night (plus you can't beat wine and cheese). Even better..the play was free! :)<br /><br />Two weeks ago, Spence and Jarrod started "daddy and me" soccer called Kickaroos. Spence loves it and his skills have really improved! It isn't a match but rather more of a clinic where children and their parents practice. Below is Spence playing with dad at home!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyA9nXJUnZlZHtDLFzFe5cLLnao61OPeXtC2siskrXLbmjqdrN2SL8qk6JyXJPQj3GEbDQ5cf-0felni6rIlQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />Anyway, I'll continue to try to post Spence singing. The song is too long so, for some raeson, my iphone is unable to email it to me. I'll try to retape or figure out another option. <br /><br />For now, we're keeping busy enjoying this beautiful weather. We have more friends coming over this evening and then a big auction for Spence's daycare on Saturday. Then Tuesday, my momma comes (followed shortly by my dad and grandpa)! We're all gearing up for the big birthday weekend! I can't believe Spence will be 3!!! :( Love to all!The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-19896509896146052842011-06-17T15:30:00.002-05:002011-06-17T15:34:03.158-05:00SpencismsTwo quick Spencisms that have made me giggle this week:<br /><br />1. I started going to the gym two nights a week. When Spence asked why I had to go I told him it was because I was "chubby." He said "You're going to get skinny?" And I told him that I hoped to. Well, when I returned home from my first gym sessions, he lovingly looked at me and said "You not chubby now!" If only.....<br /><br />2. I'm trying to work on teaching him inflection. Often times he says things in a bad tone but the words, themselves, are not inappropriate. His most-used line is "What you say?" with this evil look and condescending tone. Slowly, he's learned to have a better inflection with this phrase. Now, instead of saying "what you say" in that mean way, he says "Mommy, I not say what you say (said menacingly). I have a good infection." <br /><br />Spence requested that I work on posting his singing to the blog (as he is somewhat obsessed with himself). I promise to work on it this weekend! :)The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-9067274256800748682011-06-15T15:25:00.004-05:002011-06-15T15:33:49.640-05:00I Had Clean Underwear This MorningI make myself laugh. It's embarrassing to admit - but I think I laugh more in my head than I do out loud. Sometimes I even make myself laugh at pretend conversations I have with others. Today, I was writing a friend and I laughed, snorting loud enough for the poor secretary outside my door to hear. While her computer faces the entire office, I'm safe in my little room - to do as I please. Anyway, I'm sure she was anything but happy that I was enjoying myself while she did meanial tasks. <br /><br />The point of my email was encouragement that success is how you define it. I said:<br /><br />You will eventually figure out what it is you're supposed to do. My<br />whole life I thought I was meant to be a mother. I anxiously awaited<br />the day Spence was born and I could become a stay-at-home mom. That<br />time came and I felt like I had fallen into a black hole. I felt<br />trapped. Although that feeling eventually passed, the reality that I<br />was not a good stay-at-home mom continued to persist. The fact that<br />what I had always wanted turned out not to be anything I wanted was<br />difficult. <br /><br />Eventualy, I realized that success isn't defined by how much you have in your savings account much less the job you get out of college. I've learned to<br />take the little things as success - I've kept my child alive for<br />almost 3 years, I haven't yet killed my husband, and I had clean<br />underwear to wear this morning. <br /><br />It made me realize that, truly, it's the little things. <br /><br />Looks like I'm back to my random posts while I try to get a cute clip of Spence singing downloaded. My iphone refuses to allow me to post the entire video, so I'm working on it! Until then....The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-63969533748972082452011-06-02T13:35:00.007-05:002011-06-02T14:05:55.018-05:00I Made It 1 YearIt's official. I made it one year. One year in this chair.....<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWcVaLp48AXXB5d3OdY4TaW7its03ZOPQ-kFUvJsycLZb3Z1Khntn5JywE0rF2wT-Ny7H-0j8kScsXqUcAg5xzyI-48lzPI7T08yrjoD1W-edxSRw5aKPS3728PUhC3BvxNyA28W0OkA/s1600/Office.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613694204972974098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvWcVaLp48AXXB5d3OdY4TaW7its03ZOPQ-kFUvJsycLZb3Z1Khntn5JywE0rF2wT-Ny7H-0j8kScsXqUcAg5xzyI-48lzPI7T08yrjoD1W-edxSRw5aKPS3728PUhC3BvxNyA28W0OkA/s320/Office.JPG" /></a><br /><br />One year of early mornings, daycare drop-offs/pick-ups, frantic dinners, dirty laundry, and dusty floors. If I'm honest, the laundry and floors would happen regardless of where I work (home or not). Housewivery (is that a word?) is not my strong suit. Apparently neither is office organization - do you see that desk?<br /><br />Anyway, we've been in St. Louis for over a year as well. It's still been hard to make couple friends. Our neighborhood is looking like a great prospect and Jarrod recently had several guys get hired in his department that he really likes. So far though, it's mostly just the Taylor Trio hanging out (which, in honesty, I often prefer). Living in a large city does have it perks: awesome parks, tons of children's activities, ridiculously nice shopping, fun concerts. Still, I miss Huntington. Why many would ask? Jim's of course! Just kidding - I miss my friends, my screened-in porch, MY PARENTS (and other family), Chick-fil-A playdates, 3 day a week working...... <p><br />Enough nostalgia, it's making me sad. My brother visited over the Memorial Day weekend and I had such a great time. We took Spence to the Magic House and he and Jarrod got to go to a Cardinals game and sit in the Edward Jones luxury box. Not bad! My brother helped me take down Spence's crib :( (cue the tears) and we set up his toddler bed - his reward for peepeeing and poopooing in the potty. Spence LOVES it!</p><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TWYUNqFZFuqN4wYncOfr4KCjLDdDoN_lt3sK6O9-4vlkASYoIof0XiO1ny16qXyukDumLSNQue4NzFfJ7R0nCMAwYlIh-crWJCFAVLaUJsn2KNbi0JD-SYZ6VfORD81ngErH1CYEVNE/s1600/Train+bed.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613699128806716722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4TWYUNqFZFuqN4wYncOfr4KCjLDdDoN_lt3sK6O9-4vlkASYoIof0XiO1ny16qXyukDumLSNQue4NzFfJ7R0nCMAwYlIh-crWJCFAVLaUJsn2KNbi0JD-SYZ6VfORD81ngErH1CYEVNE/s320/Train+bed.JPG" /></a><br /><br />On another note: Jarrod takes Level III of the CFA this weekend. Please PRAY LONG AND HARD that he passes. His practice tests have been borderline and he's starting to worry. Even if you don't like Jarrod - maybe you like me - or at the very least Spence - and Spence deserves for his daddy to pass! :)<br /><br />Finally, Spence's 3rd birthday is coming up and I just have to show you the invites. I think they're precious.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT55b7y-Gls2MNOyCrH-pyas7zAAvs89hNBuuqUmxDVt3EMBy5WIbqu4eE-Gp8CfFQcuFYFA4Sq1WHJs7klQjxzjnM5dZAYf-BEf-2zW7oD5QakDlgm6HhHDKepRZs5_kKBNJ9iKppzw/s1600/Invite.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 229px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5613697871232857090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigT55b7y-Gls2MNOyCrH-pyas7zAAvs89hNBuuqUmxDVt3EMBy5WIbqu4eE-Gp8CfFQcuFYFA4Sq1WHJs7klQjxzjnM5dZAYf-BEf-2zW7oD5QakDlgm6HhHDKepRZs5_kKBNJ9iKppzw/s320/Invite.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Now I feel like I should say something off of the Price is Right.. "If you are in the St. Louis area and would like to join our celebration, please email or call for party information." Oh how I miss Bob Barker. <br />On that note - time to do some actual work (or finally get 3 stars on Level 5-17 of Angry Birds)! Love to all!!!The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-54439451587158693282011-05-25T11:51:00.011-05:002011-05-25T12:18:34.335-05:00When I Said Busy....From reaching the end of the internet to failing to have time to ensure clean clothes, our lives have gone from SLOW to BUSY! In the past month alone, I've taken 8 plane flights. So, here goes a long-winded, not very exciting update:<br /><br />First, I went into the woods. Yes - truly - into the woods on a business trip. It consisted of nats, sleeping in cars, and hiking. I wish I was kidding. Then, I came home and frantically made food for Caroline's baby shower. She is having girl #3 in July and Allison and I (really Allison) threw her a baby shower followed by a surprise retirement party for Linda. It was the first time all of the grandkids had been together in awhile which was fun!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynovQL7RDD6hFbMN9ORrc_SSKrzdHSArmPYDy_dF1Eu7l5C4KHn26FzY-z3xKaSZ2trqL7jKP-2thfnbrDeYQPcBvvFeCHtzzSiOiGD04UA3USyPcTzrxgp8llJlWTNMeC3fsOksihWE/s1600/Grandkids.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610700057737261794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgynovQL7RDD6hFbMN9ORrc_SSKrzdHSArmPYDy_dF1Eu7l5C4KHn26FzY-z3xKaSZ2trqL7jKP-2thfnbrDeYQPcBvvFeCHtzzSiOiGD04UA3USyPcTzrxgp8llJlWTNMeC3fsOksihWE/s320/Grandkids.JPG" /></a><br /><br />The following morning, at 3:30 a.m., we got up and left for the airport for our much-need beach vacation in Charleston, SC. The house was a perfect little bungalow just a block off the beach. Spence LOVED the sand, despised the water, and is still fascinated by the dead jelly fish we found. It was great having my parents there and Clint even made a quick visit.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5W26FrguLdbJXlOfzFvVuT8l_TBBK_xH5dZj3pqKhzib16R1dBGM59DPtjcmwO7a-KEKhdsO1cAIUrrOeHN-MWkIXBXPzIOI7QzEXMt6bhDDbFUH1oTOWzW4wA-y6Cg9lckP6GBUbIn4/s1600/Clint+%2526+Spence.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610701014244825042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5W26FrguLdbJXlOfzFvVuT8l_TBBK_xH5dZj3pqKhzib16R1dBGM59DPtjcmwO7a-KEKhdsO1cAIUrrOeHN-MWkIXBXPzIOI7QzEXMt6bhDDbFUH1oTOWzW4wA-y6Cg9lckP6GBUbIn4/s320/Clint+%2526+Spence.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibb26QhJB0F2lgNN-mNh5uwid36LDYspQuzy4-Cj8JCyP8Ua9qERJbFp7jgHjVVT_DpbTLZzddZ9q1xTjBIOhkydCoxYpJF5WteN6Steyj9EnMLot2Is6ae1nDqKBJLLI9KxdN804SE0s/s1600/Charleston.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610700947354579970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibb26QhJB0F2lgNN-mNh5uwid36LDYspQuzy4-Cj8JCyP8Ua9qERJbFp7jgHjVVT_DpbTLZzddZ9q1xTjBIOhkydCoxYpJF5WteN6Steyj9EnMLot2Is6ae1nDqKBJLLI9KxdN804SE0s/s320/Charleston.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdZA7muPUX9fNPBCn_eHUqoUf1h_jQkOeSaJ37SU4qdkiB907SgggjjEAEcrohhz1Aoq67U-Dsw0qpM4uOuQVDrRvh-8TLyE4CnqF9Ml_RwkGzZWocIer94wihpHmpy93bEGPP_nQ1hgk/s1600/Spence+Tennis.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610700887996122178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdZA7muPUX9fNPBCn_eHUqoUf1h_jQkOeSaJ37SU4qdkiB907SgggjjEAEcrohhz1Aoq67U-Dsw0qpM4uOuQVDrRvh-8TLyE4CnqF9Ml_RwkGzZWocIer94wihpHmpy93bEGPP_nQ1hgk/s320/Spence+Tennis.jpg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzrrJhAKRmsvyH0OO9mX5Huiv-K3_AcZKlclRYPn1yV7fREvShOzMGumFzQyZJqJJjqLXi4olObl11aetQ3rvAnkAoKaGwTxFcAickJnk-ws9m7cBCa0pMeQSoxnzjOR7VY0Y9CIhl9A/s1600/Beach2.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610700559901904482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzrrJhAKRmsvyH0OO9mX5Huiv-K3_AcZKlclRYPn1yV7fREvShOzMGumFzQyZJqJJjqLXi4olObl11aetQ3rvAnkAoKaGwTxFcAickJnk-ws9m7cBCa0pMeQSoxnzjOR7VY0Y9CIhl9A/s320/Beach2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip83F05y2DuyTJYptm2IAeQcxJT1YXrl52stEWsRmku2SbPJwST2dPzc6_BXp_orSJ_aDhC-7DSDw1y4Y8jiom7h2MmNTw1Y5eHGVmGhefoxoHC2WMp-NJzNKVo5TcHKISWljoQm0GT5o/s1600/Beach3.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610700671213987938" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip83F05y2DuyTJYptm2IAeQcxJT1YXrl52stEWsRmku2SbPJwST2dPzc6_BXp_orSJ_aDhC-7DSDw1y4Y8jiom7h2MmNTw1Y5eHGVmGhefoxoHC2WMp-NJzNKVo5TcHKISWljoQm0GT5o/s320/Beach3.jpg" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0oxm4zd5RBO1WjLHQkhmEEiyOsyInTTeB4r15aSPcsHiW3GxR0ZNGo-PStk5TpSg_mZNSjlFBPqI5u03K4rJe04rFwfVJ7JMj5RThlqAOwopKlgV2r7WvSEH0zcxCFjkL33CRIz9rMg/s1600/Beach4.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610700779402786290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0oxm4zd5RBO1WjLHQkhmEEiyOsyInTTeB4r15aSPcsHiW3GxR0ZNGo-PStk5TpSg_mZNSjlFBPqI5u03K4rJe04rFwfVJ7JMj5RThlqAOwopKlgV2r7WvSEH0zcxCFjkL33CRIz9rMg/s320/Beach4.jpg" /></a><br /><br />We returned to the beach and then Jarrod and I left the next weekend for Clint's graduation. It was so incredible to see all the people who knew and loved my little brother! Professors actually knew him. :) I went to college for 4 years and I GUARANTEE not a single professor knew my name on graduation day. I don't have pictures but, needless to say, it was a great time. I stayed on in NC for 3 more days for another business trip and was SO READY to be home by the end of it all!<br /><br />Fnally, the next few weeks Jarrod is busy studying for Level III of the CFA exam on June 4th! He's been very deligent and, although Spence and I miss him, we're proud of his good work ethic! In order to stay out of Jarrod's way, Spence and I have had busy weekends. This past weekend, we went to the zoo on Saturday and a birthday party on Sunday. It was Spence's first adventure in bowling and he loved it! Lets just hope he doesn't dream of making the PBA.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LP5ARKkatvqHXoyoE-Zgd-lopm1M8bSCdRrbFBs6lgPzOM7D7GcDs1RiYvFGJT53B2gBM0QK7Hx_nrKO-yZ_yBArMHKlrYzUQtbNMdBlZihJU4vpP3_v3wiB7B_0XeiXuX7yLXepnz8/s1600/Parkers+Party.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610703228673320722" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8LP5ARKkatvqHXoyoE-Zgd-lopm1M8bSCdRrbFBs6lgPzOM7D7GcDs1RiYvFGJT53B2gBM0QK7Hx_nrKO-yZ_yBArMHKlrYzUQtbNMdBlZihJU4vpP3_v3wiB7B_0XeiXuX7yLXepnz8/s320/Parkers+Party.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRxtRpmdsei9WzLBZLpr7VwRjk4_IWrVfl6J_Juj21sqKL6XnuC5pzcrhyDtZ7oHUT2c_EMRJrbvVyZd5iuy2qam-douQRFNOILzF84mVjVS1r9cF3Ep-iJQPIRLSZMoruKeqd-wEwtCA/s1600/Zoo.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610703130664969538" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRxtRpmdsei9WzLBZLpr7VwRjk4_IWrVfl6J_Juj21sqKL6XnuC5pzcrhyDtZ7oHUT2c_EMRJrbvVyZd5iuy2qam-douQRFNOILzF84mVjVS1r9cF3Ep-iJQPIRLSZMoruKeqd-wEwtCA/s320/Zoo.JPG" /></a><br /><br />We're still waiting for visitors to show around St. Louis. If you're reading this, that means you! And yes, that's an intentional guilt trip. XOXOThe Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-38239647227684084512011-05-09T13:27:00.002-05:002011-05-09T13:39:57.278-05:00Mother's DayIt's been a busy few weeks for the Taylor Trio and, unfortunately, it will contine that way for at least the next week and a half. Two weeks ago, I was travelling for work, trying to pack for vacation, and helping throw a baby shower/surprise retirement party for my sister-in-law and mother-in-law. After an exhausting week, we left for the beach last Saturday. It was a great time with my parents (and brother). Pictures and more details will follow! Now, I'm in town this week but we leave Saturday for Clint's graduation and I have to stay in North Carolina for a meeting with clients. I'm exhausted just typing it.<br /><br />Since I don't have any pictures uploaded, I decided to write a quick note on the most recent event in our lives: mother's day. <br /><br />I'll preface this by saying that Jarrod completely failed this year. While he's usually thoughtful and romantic, this year was an exception. There were no presents, dinners, or even cards. We did our weekly Sunday morning breakfast at Winslow's, followed by church, and a visit to his parents to see his sister and her family before they returned to Colorado. By night's end, I considered it a present to go to Whole Foods by myself. <br /><br />In all honesty, I'm completely torn by the whole Mother's Day thing. I feel some sort of guilt that mother's day should be a day I enjoy my family (more specifically, my child). But, when I think of a day that is TRULY for me, I just want to be alone! :) Okay - maybe not alone but at least doing adult-things with adults. In the end, my guilt wins and I spend the day with Spence.<br /><br />Jarrod and I talked about this and I think he gets it. I love Jarrod's mom and loved seeing all of them yesterday. However, on mother's day, I think Jarrod (and not necessarily me) should be with his mom - if she WANTS him. If not, I think Linda and I should be able to do whatever it is we want. <br /><br />For now, I'm sure my guilt will continue to win out until I can convince a friend to support my no-child mother's day and we can collude to spend it doing adult things. Ideally that would include: eat breakfast with Spene and Jarrod, go to the spa ALL DAY, come home and take a nap, watch everything I want on my DVR, read Spence a book before bed (note: he has already been fed, given a bath, clean pjs on, and sheets changed), and go to sleep. Jarrod: take note. :)The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-79371144816975868632011-04-18T16:36:00.003-05:002011-04-18T16:43:52.431-05:00I Snorted When I Laughed.....Having been both a stay-at-home and a "working" mom, I often get sent articles about balancing home/work life. Today, I received a link to this blog post. In the midst of the Monday blues, it actually made me laugh until I snorted. I'm sure my coworkers think (or at least have confirmed) that I have clearly lost it. The langugage isn't as clean as it could be but I think all of you moms (both working from home and working away from home) will enjoy!<br /><br />"Last week a study came out which showed that working moms have sicker kids than stay-at-home moms. Almost immediately, the stay-at-home moms turned the study into a 500-page scrapbook project which they used to pummel working moms with. Then working moms retaliated by sending their secretaries out to staple all of the stay-at-home moms' nostrils shut. Or at least, I suspect that’s the kind of “mommy-war” crap that the media probably expected would happen.<br /><br />In real life, however, almost everyone ignored the study because both the stay-at-home moms and the working moms were too dang busy to waste their time criticizing the personal decisions of fellow mothers. In fact, pretty much the only people who paid attention to this at all were the mothers-who-are-way-too-concerned-about-what-everyone-else-is-doing-because-it-distracts-them-from-all-the-crap-they’re-personally-failing-at. <br /><br />Still, there are some new mothers who have fallen for the ridiculous idea that mothers are at war with each other, and who feel conflicted about making the decision to go back to work or to stay at home after having children, so I’m going to give you the lowdown of both options so you can decide for yourself.<br /><br />The PROS of being a stay-at-home mom: You don’t have to shower until noon. If your child is under 6 months old, you can watch zombie movies and The Big Lebowski all day and they totally won’t care. Pajamas are your new uniform. You’re always home to sign for packages. You get to see all the cool things your kid does all day. Your kid isn’t exposed to the petri-dish of germs that is daycare. You feel like Donna Reed. You don’t have to deal with that bitch at work anymore. Your partner thinks you’re amazing. You have the quiet satisfaction of doing what’s right for your children.<br /><br />The CONS of being a stay-at-home mom: You don’t have time to shower ever. If your child is over 6 months old, you have to watch really crappy kids TV all the time and you have weird sex dreams about Thomas the Train. All of your pajamas have bodily fluids on them. And not the good kind. You accidentally show your boobs to the mailman/cable guy/next door neighbor. You realize that your kid is boring and/or a jerk and you can never escape from them. You want to knife Donna Reed for making it look so easy. You irrationally shout, “STAY-AT-HOME MOMS ARE WORKING MOMS” every time you read an article like this and then you shake your head and wonder how you got like this. You feel so lonely that you actually start to miss that bitch at work. Your partner wants to rest after a long day of work and they don’t understand that you need to rest too and they say something like, “Why? What did you do all day? This house is a wreck” and then you have to go to jail for stabbing them in the shoulder. You find that prison is a pleasant break from being a stay-at-home mom. You secretly worry that you’re making the wrong decision.<br /><br /> <br /><br />The PROS of being a working mom: You get to escape from the insanity of motherhood for 8 hours a day. You have more disposable income that you can spend on family vacations and classes. You can afford to put your child in a Portuguese-immersion daycare that will give him a huge advantage in school. You have an experienced nanny/child-care provider to give you advice and help raise your child. You can belt out that “I can bring home the bacon” song and totally mean it. You are able to keep up an active social life, which makes you a happier, more focused mom when you're home. You have the quiet satisfaction of having both a successful career and family. <br /><br />The CONS of being a working mom: You miss eight hours a day of your child’s life. You spend your entire paycheck on concerts to see The Wiggles. Your child is fluent in a language you can’t even speak. You have a nanny/childcare provider who is constantly telling you how to raise your child and occasionally your child calls her “mommy.” When “Cat’s in the Cradle” comes on the radio, you fall to pieces and everyone in your office hears you crying the ugly cry. Your kid is sick every other week from all the germs at daycare and your boss makes you feel like crap for missing work to take care of her. You end up using all your vacation days getting thrown up on in the pediatrician’s office. Everyone in your house gets lice. Twice. You’re so exhausted that you can’t accomplish anything and you feel like you’re failing as a parent and as an employee. You secretly worry that you’re making the wrong decision.<br /><br />In the end, only one universal truth remains: You’re going to doubt yourself no matter what you do, but whatever decision you make is probably the best one for your particular family. Also, eventually everyone gets lice. That’s another universal truth but not necessarily one anyone ever talks about. <br /><br />PS: If you’re a working mom still pissed off about the sick-kid study, then you need to take a deep breath and calm down. Yes, the study implies that children of working moms are four times more likely to be poisoned but that doesn’t mean you’re the one poisoning them. Honestly, who has the time? I barely have time to cook dinner at night, much less plan a poisoning. My guess is that your children are being poisoned by stay-at-home moms who are retaliating after having discovered that you are secretly encouraging your sick children to lick all the playground equipment just to level the sick-kid playing field. Honestly, I can’t say I blame them.<br /><br />PPS: Dear media: The paragraph right above this one? That’s how you start a mommy-war."<br /><br /><br />http://thestir.cafemom.com/baby/116998/lesson_12_working_moms_vs?fb_ref=post_bottom&fb_source=home_multilineThe Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-51008529642556560042011-04-17T21:30:00.013-05:002011-04-18T10:25:01.860-05:00Fulfilled PromisesFor the past few weeks, I have bored you with my thoughts of the day and promised to soon post pictures of our dinner-party adventures and Spence. That promise is finally being fulfilled. As background, in larger cities, a trendy, new restaurant concept has emerged. They're called "underground restaurants." Basically, once a month, a well-known chef holds a restaurant "underground" - either in someone's home or a cool location around the city. The patrons don't know the location or menu until hours before the event - and you never know who you will see while you're there. We're fortunate that the "underground chef" in St. Louis is Jarrod's good friend from high school & college. <br /><br />So, early last month, we got a call asking if he could host March's underground dinner at our house. Without a single picture hung and no realy furniture to speak of, we agreed. For the next few weeks, I frantically hung pictures, cleaned (okay - hired a cleaning lady), and planted flowers - all in anticipation of having 20-30 people on both Friday and Saturday nights dine at our house. The weekend finally came and this is what St. Louis brought me: <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIfkpfd57k5q0y8KVRJva8-eoJvdwb4QqfN4hkpWpBJCQZ1CxulmESuEMEP02ITPJJlm92evxfBIQnbFaWwAsOmvpBTBpqW_sVc92KpOdzmpbK03Cc8v0Buw3Ni3bd09BQnJ6_ujBpaA/s1600/DSC_0966.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596748768581716402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIfkpfd57k5q0y8KVRJva8-eoJvdwb4QqfN4hkpWpBJCQZ1CxulmESuEMEP02ITPJJlm92evxfBIQnbFaWwAsOmvpBTBpqW_sVc92KpOdzmpbK03Cc8v0Buw3Ni3bd09BQnJ6_ujBpaA/s320/DSC_0966.JPG" /></a> <br /><br />Needless to say, my pansies had seen better days and my spring-themed decorations seemed slightly out of place. However, the dinner was a success. We cleared out to Jarrod's parents Friday night and stayed to enjoy the dinner on Saturday. The menu is ALWAYS adventurous yet incredibly tasty. This time was no different. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuiJNdCwxjEIZLK1h-hhwjWHf8EM76B29IBgvBNaaxqYSK4c18KPbXoD_t2aMUAQnOUp62HYfEsjr3evOogNK7KTq4_FDNFKldvTj7qnMfqAwp5l4iySWzlpAmqFZeNxJ4dRsqeCoILg/s1600/DSC_0971.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596751468242876210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwuiJNdCwxjEIZLK1h-hhwjWHf8EM76B29IBgvBNaaxqYSK4c18KPbXoD_t2aMUAQnOUp62HYfEsjr3evOogNK7KTq4_FDNFKldvTj7qnMfqAwp5l4iySWzlpAmqFZeNxJ4dRsqeCoILg/s320/DSC_0971.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj51kfPGoEq3UsM2vc7G53K03t07RDLFIgBL_tBIaYik-IRPr8P4jraXJJJnqOXLo-DBOr6IFkFKCNsjw5lw4riVY-xQHp0WUY82fDZDyV2YWUdWWHRTlRvoiagMwOHV-WT6GlLdrcvrA/s1600/DSC_0968.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596748325129750386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj51kfPGoEq3UsM2vc7G53K03t07RDLFIgBL_tBIaYik-IRPr8P4jraXJJJnqOXLo-DBOr6IFkFKCNsjw5lw4riVY-xQHp0WUY82fDZDyV2YWUdWWHRTlRvoiagMwOHV-WT6GlLdrcvrA/s320/DSC_0968.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQXOtXgutlJV-KJBoNMntA6fBq0GRabUytxWaIyII8AU2nkj6osTo3dGIzdP1sDhyphenhyphenmRPJK_1P8fz3zJZda4Ji0erG-UBr3zjfJT0pRY1hX678Qq6FPJKvH-fCCPqKeUh8jccHNlOMTkY/s1600/DSC_0967.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596748519747830882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQQXOtXgutlJV-KJBoNMntA6fBq0GRabUytxWaIyII8AU2nkj6osTo3dGIzdP1sDhyphenhyphenmRPJK_1P8fz3zJZda4Ji0erG-UBr3zjfJT0pRY1hX678Qq6FPJKvH-fCCPqKeUh8jccHNlOMTkY/s320/DSC_0967.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmwwJw5zZT3Lwox9p-3y2akLQLgEmUrVb81mI5ilFVhQJN3bRRj10QSKnjb7LNRVkfzlcgig5YVNaQR5vaVdx3nEeBBdZuV3_pPkS6XleO3J-Ffu-DBZRWYTfRSzzPD3ZV4_xTmvp-PBY/s1600/DSC_0962.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596747835295723714" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmwwJw5zZT3Lwox9p-3y2akLQLgEmUrVb81mI5ilFVhQJN3bRRj10QSKnjb7LNRVkfzlcgig5YVNaQR5vaVdx3nEeBBdZuV3_pPkS6XleO3J-Ffu-DBZRWYTfRSzzPD3ZV4_xTmvp-PBY/s320/DSC_0962.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL54NWSey2vmz41lXcVOoONZcxz9v61v1DEi4eJGgxzqLo_-HhlXW046dPZ5H4lmVbG_PscFSkGK2j8wL7lo875W1eZ4j-97ytgh_-xST2A69pGZ-W8pb0N178jQk4oPeECVhVkzLtWeg/s1600/DSC_0974.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596747615303686690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL54NWSey2vmz41lXcVOoONZcxz9v61v1DEi4eJGgxzqLo_-HhlXW046dPZ5H4lmVbG_PscFSkGK2j8wL7lo875W1eZ4j-97ytgh_-xST2A69pGZ-W8pb0N178jQk4oPeECVhVkzLtWeg/s320/DSC_0974.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkZvicaGbCg-yLc10WjPhYQc2OSHk8BzqLEWz0SNXfVmkbO8HAkZDbj1rmNuhLZCRqd4dgsap4nQ8foqeR9Mnjgo6RiXWNTmABNh4O5u05cghqI0XwTC3kLf6FyPfgAEvLBinPTXIbCI/s1600/DSC_0964.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596748068112630338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqkZvicaGbCg-yLc10WjPhYQc2OSHk8BzqLEWz0SNXfVmkbO8HAkZDbj1rmNuhLZCRqd4dgsap4nQ8foqeR9Mnjgo6RiXWNTmABNh4O5u05cghqI0XwTC3kLf6FyPfgAEvLBinPTXIbCI/s320/DSC_0964.JPG" /></a> <br /><br />In addition to the dinner party, we've been creating our own dinners lately. Spence's favorite is to make pizza which everyone's favorite too(including the dog - who gets to eat the mess)!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0Ptnpx28J8uKEDbPJQrtj83ZErXe-PESItD0dw1yDjyUtte2UgsZBxRSoBpBrKqioYo2OYJBQDYiwq3ep7yxXjd6Zpn1ilqBJ61ZyLPD6qg60lEmEEbyhVG-txHIK2RFJBKWacoaczw/s1600/DSC_0980.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596747368535116626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd0Ptnpx28J8uKEDbPJQrtj83ZErXe-PESItD0dw1yDjyUtte2UgsZBxRSoBpBrKqioYo2OYJBQDYiwq3ep7yxXjd6Zpn1ilqBJ61ZyLPD6qg60lEmEEbyhVG-txHIK2RFJBKWacoaczw/s320/DSC_0980.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf07Ia5exps4GjWyOyo_4pqheeZsFaExwJSRlKPGuCWcioJRR6YXyjtyI5ayqFyHNvLc9s_q63by0_JvRvXQzPsZ2WjsmaQbP8ctAU4yBmce1srRafG7ZDWECv4qkvtjTQvoP4EE4wkaM/s1600/DSC_0981.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596747135931919666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf07Ia5exps4GjWyOyo_4pqheeZsFaExwJSRlKPGuCWcioJRR6YXyjtyI5ayqFyHNvLc9s_q63by0_JvRvXQzPsZ2WjsmaQbP8ctAU4yBmce1srRafG7ZDWECv4qkvtjTQvoP4EE4wkaM/s320/DSC_0981.JPG" /></a> <br /><br />Finally, we come to the biggest fulfilled promise: Easter! Spence isn't quite getting the actual reason for the Easter celebration but really what 2 year old (or 80 year old really) can truly grasp that concept. Our easter egg hunt was rained out on Saturday so instead we decorated our own eggs. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFVSIN6_-gKiyf3E0wPYgfyBAMDAv795XK86nltiHgvnzKBhelzLsPfoXl_a_3x8WAyOuo67kYnjRT3mScqYWRllRwrCDlN8Peia-qoM6onprLbRjFqlWrK7GoTBm_pxNvGbrTlS9R2E/s1600/DSC_0991.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596746533453971650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrFVSIN6_-gKiyf3E0wPYgfyBAMDAv795XK86nltiHgvnzKBhelzLsPfoXl_a_3x8WAyOuo67kYnjRT3mScqYWRllRwrCDlN8Peia-qoM6onprLbRjFqlWrK7GoTBm_pxNvGbrTlS9R2E/s320/DSC_0991.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7b3C64zGMCkpSozjIa9-VSnSRsrJ1CTG8WLNEJ2EjradSql1qkys1xjTfrItC63uc2rTsa_4dmofBbUrGPv_IePp8sgBoE1il1X_VhauiwiaiiyDWrfOcU3582M3Fm1Jm0rwkZi8vpE/s1600/DSC_0996.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 214px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596745798455676770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ7b3C64zGMCkpSozjIa9-VSnSRsrJ1CTG8WLNEJ2EjradSql1qkys1xjTfrItC63uc2rTsa_4dmofBbUrGPv_IePp8sgBoE1il1X_VhauiwiaiiyDWrfOcU3582M3Fm1Jm0rwkZi8vpE/s320/DSC_0996.JPG" /></a> <br /><br />Spence is at an incredibly fun age. He's sweet, smart, funny and yet completely rotten. The longer we have just him, the harder the thought of #2 becomes! :) The next month is ridiculously busy - with work travelling, Clint's graduation, beach vacation, and more! So, prepare yourself for more of my thoughts because downloading pictures is exhausting. Love to you all! The Taylor TrioThe Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-11445493363830037822011-04-08T10:12:00.002-05:002011-04-08T10:31:04.571-05:00How We Are KnownI sincerely promise to post pictures of our 2-day extraganza of a dinner party as well as Spence's most recent adventures soon. At this point, however, I've been too lazy to download any pictures to my computer. However, since I have decided that I really want this blog to be a scrapblog, of sorts, for Spence and the future Spence's, I've decided to write what's on my mind recently. I guess my hope is that, along with pictures and memories, it will be a little bit about me (Jarrod is on his own.) This might be long so feel free to move along to the next website you planned on browsing. It won't hurt my feelings (unless you're Spence and it's 2020)!<br /><br />Since Spence was born, and more recently since discpline seems to be such a large part of each day, I wondered whether Spence (or future Spences) would ever really know me. Of course he would know the mother - but would he know ME as I want to be known. Would he know the sometimes ornery, sometimes funny, secretively tender-hearted (I clearly don't have self esteem issues) me? Even thought my mother is my best friend, I'm not sure I truly know her as she wants to be known. All of our experiences with one another are clouded by her being my mother - someone who I can disappoint.<br /><br />In thinking of this, I realized that I sounded selfish. Especially after I realized that, in reality, I wanted Spence to know who I once was - not who I am. I wanted him to know the popular, cute, athletic, smart (I know - no self esteem issues here) 15 to 22 year old. And, I think I wanted that because the past can so easily be colored by how we wish to be seen, rather than the present which is more difficult to alter.<br /><br />This past Sunday at church, our pastor spoke on the covenantal relationship. He began by noting that God's covenant as outlined in the Old Testament is not with us individually but rather with "His people." And, that our relationship with those other individuals affects our covenant relationship with Him. Then, he began to discuss the covenant we have with God as outlined in the New Testament. Specifically, he discussed that now, we have a covenant representative - Jesus - who stands between His people and God. And, what's incredible about having Jesus as our representative is that the view God sees of us has been washed white through the forgiveness of sin. So, he doesn't see the hateful, impatient, bitter, person I somtimes feel that I am. He views me the way I wish to be seen.<br /><br />Anyway, I found it all so convicting because, in a sense, I have always hoped that by Spence understanding who I was rather than who I am, his idea of me would be washed white (idyllic) rather than realistic and, the ultimate truth is that only through Jesus can be ever be known how we wish to be known.The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-892291414305881592011-03-30T11:19:00.006-05:002011-03-30T11:48:37.355-05:00WINNING Thoughts Of The DayThoughts of the Day: <br /><ol><br /><li>5 inches of snow in the last week of March is unacceptable - no matter where you live. </li><br /><li>I am addicted to Starbucks and am convinced that, should I give up my habit, I could retire in the next 3 years, as opposed to never. </li><br /><li>I think Parks and Recreation has gotten really funny. </li><br /><li>Britney's "comeback" on GMA was embarrassing. I know I'm not one to talk bodies/athletic ability post pregnancy but I'm also not wearing a bustier trying to do ghetto dance moves (okay - maybe I am - but it's for Jarrod's eyes only) :) </li><br /><li>I secretly want to go to Charlie Sheen's "Violent Torpedo of Truth/Defeat is Not An Option" show because I find him fascinatingly tragic. </li></ol><br /><p>Next post I promise pictures of Spence since I know that's the most interesting part of my life. Oh - and we hosted a big two-day dinner party for close to 30 ppl/night - last weekend. Pics to follow on that as well.</p>The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4964180150936604803.post-83528269362307928452011-03-22T15:50:00.004-05:002011-03-22T16:19:17.042-05:00Scrapblogging<div><div>Prior to Spence's arrival, some friends from work convinced me to start "scrapping." So, off to Vicky Baker's I went. (For those not from Huntington - she appears to have a monopoly on "creative memories" scrapbooking supplies). Almost $300 later, I came home armed to scrap it up. Well...that was 4 years ago. Today, I have my equipment and 1 scrapbook made up of approximately 10 pages from our honeymoon.</div><br /><div></div><div>While I continue to feel guilty for failing Spence at this very basic motherly task, I've instead decided to convince myself that this blog is his scrapbook. As such, I feel compelled to share the good, the bad, and the ugly. </div><br /><div></div><div>We'll start with the good: Spence and I had a great weekend visiting the train museum with my friend Tara and her little boy, Parker. I think the boys could've spent all day running up and down the same train. We finished it off with milkshakes at Steak 'n Shake. My fav! We are also slowly starting to wear big boy underwear. And, they are so stinkin' cute! I think Spence only wants to waer them because they're Toy Story undies but I'm hoping the whole peepee/poo poo think eventually catches on. </div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_Sada80RT7C60XW9UIW3EjGwrgp1OJbfdiDb-3jIvr-agrBjkYWKntEyb8p465AaJT_1bIqI64MSMU8YoStEgNtka5r0sQC3NdXWQ0JP8gmWsi58PyoAUwYF9ei-qXngPOZQwWuRde8/s1600/Spence+%2526+Parker.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587014851272099794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho_Sada80RT7C60XW9UIW3EjGwrgp1OJbfdiDb-3jIvr-agrBjkYWKntEyb8p465AaJT_1bIqI64MSMU8YoStEgNtka5r0sQC3NdXWQ0JP8gmWsi58PyoAUwYF9ei-qXngPOZQwWuRde8/s320/Spence+%2526+Parker.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6lBBt1Hucha1tOr_ijlg2LhDI18m7i_ZJYFhpR4WwSW3qmd21A15LbvyT5tw1qmYwT5sY9aDPGYmqXVhnVRrUiS3Pv_0ROl2VslpLk5_4gFSshvXTRgNlbgI5lORHIGFoXtfhg3hlpk/s1600/Big+Boy.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587014950137199890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6lBBt1Hucha1tOr_ijlg2LhDI18m7i_ZJYFhpR4WwSW3qmd21A15LbvyT5tw1qmYwT5sY9aDPGYmqXVhnVRrUiS3Pv_0ROl2VslpLk5_4gFSshvXTRgNlbgI5lORHIGFoXtfhg3hlpk/s320/Big+Boy.JPG" /></a><br /><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>One funny story on Spence's obsession with Toy Story: Yesterday, as I was dropping him off at daycare, he ran up to his best friend James and said "I have a Buzz Lightyear cup." James dropped his face, shook his head, and said "It's always something about Buzz." Apparently, the Buzz talk even exasperates James! :)</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Now, on the ugly: I think everyone knows that I think Spence is the funniest, most tender hearted, cuddly, smart, and handsome little boy I have ever had. :) While all those traits are all true, he is also a stinker. We have hit the terrible 2's with force and have, for the past several weeks, had almost daily battles of the will. So he will one day remember what he put his mother through, below is a charming yet short video. I will make two observations:</div><div></div><br /><div>1. This video started a solid 20 minutes into the ordeal and continued 5 more after. We had decided to ignore his deliberate attempts to goad us and, instead, continued to have a normal conversation.</div><br /><div>2. The video fails to include these tidbits: "Stop looking at me mommy." "I'm not talking to you." "I dont' like you." "Sadie is stupid." (Thanks daycare!) and "I only want to talk to Buzz."</div><br /><div><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyDswJ77zSXDAukTMKHyqPVE304mnxFcjZZcPpEcQlBxSgbzXVhjnVhOLZ1vdYwXujd1uhzX_K0bQeoUNLDFg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /><br /><p></p></div>The Taylor Quartethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13584595645232702476noreply@blogger.com3