<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958</id><updated>2011-09-04T08:47:16.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out Here In Colorado</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-8845918758597875206</id><published>2008-11-03T15:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T15:26:31.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boo!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SQ-HyT_s1zI/AAAAAAAAAEk/OCAC_bPNMZU/s1600-h/IMG_1352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264575787850061618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SQ-HyT_s1zI/AAAAAAAAAEk/OCAC_bPNMZU/s400/IMG_1352.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SQ-Hx9O-9cI/AAAAAAAAAEc/2biL6IdZhAA/s1600-h/IMG_1350.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264575781740148162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SQ-Hx9O-9cI/AAAAAAAAAEc/2biL6IdZhAA/s400/IMG_1350.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lots and lots of fun on Halloween!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-8845918758597875206?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/8845918758597875206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=8845918758597875206' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/8845918758597875206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/8845918758597875206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/11/boo.html' title='Boo!'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SQ-HyT_s1zI/AAAAAAAAAEk/OCAC_bPNMZU/s72-c/IMG_1352.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-9196285753771927747</id><published>2008-09-30T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-30T08:59:34.391-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess!?  I Don't Think So...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SOJL-q2yJjI/AAAAAAAAAEU/tszAW2EHOKA/s1600-h/IMG_1084.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251843655495460402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SOJL-q2yJjI/AAAAAAAAAEU/tszAW2EHOKA/s400/IMG_1084.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-9196285753771927747?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/9196285753771927747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=9196285753771927747' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/9196285753771927747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/9196285753771927747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/09/princess-i-dont-think-so.html' title='Princess!?  I Don&apos;t Think So...'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SOJL-q2yJjI/AAAAAAAAAEU/tszAW2EHOKA/s72-c/IMG_1084.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-1185561606929278910</id><published>2008-09-19T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T14:28:45.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long Time, No Kate-See</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVjAapMEI/AAAAAAAAADs/1-9NN1ojpcE/s1600-h/IMG_0952.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247843156944826434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="227" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVjAapMEI/AAAAAAAAADs/1-9NN1ojpcE/s320/IMG_0952.JPG" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVjYZhDLI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H5KKVQiqzMk/s1600-h/IMG_0936.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247843163382549682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVjYZhDLI/AAAAAAAAAD0/H5KKVQiqzMk/s320/IMG_0936.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVj90VlEI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_rCysEyEXo4/s1600-h/IMG_1006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247843173427156034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVj90VlEI/AAAAAAAAAD8/_rCysEyEXo4/s320/IMG_1006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVkEVNQjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/DNSbLoeNLXc/s1600-h/IMG_0534.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247843175175635506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVkEVNQjI/AAAAAAAAAEE/DNSbLoeNLXc/s320/IMG_0534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVkVsJD7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/ZdqEjSkMW88/s1600-h/IMG_1077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247843179835232178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVkVsJD7I/AAAAAAAAAEM/ZdqEjSkMW88/s320/IMG_1077.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd think that after the long silence, I'd have something to say. Enjoy the pictures!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-1185561606929278910?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/1185561606929278910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=1185561606929278910' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/1185561606929278910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/1185561606929278910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/09/long-time-no-kate-sy.html' title='Long Time, No Kate-See'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SNQVjAapMEI/AAAAAAAAADs/1-9NN1ojpcE/s72-c/IMG_0952.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-8282009607017891680</id><published>2008-05-16T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T16:25:12.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Heart N.Y.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SC4G8rxfXjI/AAAAAAAAACY/ZPNN5kdfPNA/s1600-h/IMG_0219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201102259271720498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SC4G8rxfXjI/AAAAAAAAACY/ZPNN5kdfPNA/s320/IMG_0219.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;This is a picture of me, Rach and Chrissy standing in front of an amazing view of New York City, the last night that Chrissy and I were there (I should have told Norm to put his thumb in it or something to show he was also present). It was the perfect ending to an awesome trip, I just wish I could have figured out my camera enough to take a better shot of it (someday, I hope to build up the courage to tackle that monster manual the thing came with - "someday" meaning never-ever) . &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Leave it to Rachael to make a 45 square foot apartment into the most functional, organized and spit-shined living quarters you've ever seen. It was immaculate. I was impressed, to say the least (and wondering why that O.C.D gene took a leave-of-absence with me). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;We walked &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;a lot. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;This was actually my favorite part. I loved walking along these busy sidewalks, and suddenly recognizing something. It's amazing how, even if you've never been there, so much of New York is familiar. I thought I would be so much more scared of the big city than I ever was. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The day before we left, Rach took time off to drive us over to Leslie's in Pennsylvania. It was so much fun to see the Youngs! Even though they seem a step beyond exhaustion, they were nice enough to show us a great time. After playing their Wii, I've been plotting how to get one for myself (I've started an "items for ebay" pile). I have to admit the pinacle though, was having Leslie teach us how to make pretzels at her new store. It was &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;AWESOME!!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;I was giddy the whole time. We stayed for about three hours, and the time went by much too quickly. Time flies when you're twistin' pretzels. The Youngs are such a blast to hang out with, and I wish we had had more time there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Overall, I wish we could have seen more of Rach and Norm (not sure if they'd say the same about us - I'm sure Norm now knows what it would be like to share a shower with Sasquatch...sorry and eeewwwww!). Can't wait to go again, and I'll be sure to reserve more cash for the horse races next time - that was great!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-8282009607017891680?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/8282009607017891680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=8282009607017891680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/8282009607017891680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/8282009607017891680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-heart-ny.html' title='I Heart N.Y.'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SC4G8rxfXjI/AAAAAAAAACY/ZPNN5kdfPNA/s72-c/IMG_0219.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-1379320598641983916</id><published>2008-04-24T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-24T22:37:08.556-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Wanna Be A Cowboy, Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SBFtGYcpqQI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Lw6f-d1qtzg/s1600-h/IMG_0131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193051801744156930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SBFtGYcpqQI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Lw6f-d1qtzg/s400/IMG_0131.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of these days, I'm going to sit down and actually write something on this here blog. Right now though, it's just too easy to post pictures that I like - and then bail. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-1379320598641983916?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/1379320598641983916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=1379320598641983916' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/1379320598641983916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/1379320598641983916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-wanna-be-cowboy-baby.html' title='I Wanna Be A Cowboy, Baby'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/SBFtGYcpqQI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Lw6f-d1qtzg/s72-c/IMG_0131.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-4404584858842811634</id><published>2008-04-02T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:22:28.840-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Cute</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R_QGlrSvJ2I/AAAAAAAAAB8/6gI6w_Goedc/s1600-h/IMG_0059.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184776315356522338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R_QGlrSvJ2I/AAAAAAAAAB8/6gI6w_Goedc/s400/IMG_0059.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ivy is just so cute. The check-out clerk at Target told me today that "Dude...yer baby has, like, the coolest (it sounded more like "kewlest") eyes ever...".  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-4404584858842811634?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/4404584858842811634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=4404584858842811634' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4404584858842811634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4404584858842811634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/04/just-cute.html' title='Just Cute'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R_QGlrSvJ2I/AAAAAAAAAB8/6gI6w_Goedc/s72-c/IMG_0059.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-7057544257261685857</id><published>2008-04-02T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T15:16:33.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tough Guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R_QFOLSvJ1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/q-WjN5ZnhLo/s1600-h/IMG_0062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184774812117968722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R_QFOLSvJ1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/q-WjN5ZnhLo/s400/IMG_0062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got a new camera recently, and when I told Seth I wanted to take a picture of him to try it out he automatically gave me this pose (he told me he was being a "bad transformer"?!?!).  Okay....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-7057544257261685857?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/7057544257261685857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=7057544257261685857' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/7057544257261685857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/7057544257261685857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/04/tough-guy.html' title='Tough Guy'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R_QFOLSvJ1I/AAAAAAAAAB0/q-WjN5ZnhLo/s72-c/IMG_0062.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-8943063638069733074</id><published>2008-03-20T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T11:07:09.607-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Boy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-KnELSvJvI/AAAAAAAAABE/xpzMcfW8IYU/s1600-h/IMG_0029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179886211622184690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-KnELSvJvI/AAAAAAAAABE/xpzMcfW8IYU/s400/IMG_0029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-8943063638069733074?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/8943063638069733074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=8943063638069733074' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/8943063638069733074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/8943063638069733074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/03/funny-boy.html' title='Funny Boy.'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-KnELSvJvI/AAAAAAAAABE/xpzMcfW8IYU/s72-c/IMG_0029.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-4539116247375388559</id><published>2008-03-18T14:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-18T16:51:01.558-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Nugget Had A Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-BI2v_uMrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/KbFglCTLttk/s1600-h/IMG_0013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179219676909941426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-BI2v_uMrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/KbFglCTLttk/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-A9g__uMqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/V4CEPUdjcAQ/s1600-h/IMG_0009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179207208619881122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-A9g__uMqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/V4CEPUdjcAQ/s400/IMG_0009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right! Baby Ivy is now 1 year old. I can't really believe it myself. I know it's totally cliche, but it seems like just yesterday that I was painfully pregnant and swollen beyond recognition with her. Now, I'm merely sleep-deprived and neurotic (not a pretty combination either). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ivy is our crazy little squirmy munchkin. She is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;constantly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; on the move, and always has something to say. She can stand on her own now, but won't for long (that always on the move thing). In her world, things are always out of place and therefore need a new one (usually just the floor is adequate). She &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;adores&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; her big brother Seth, nobody can get her to giggle as hard as he can. Ivy is perfecting her mimicking abilities, her favorite being something that sounds just like "&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hey!&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;I need that"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (a phrase used by her brother an average of 44,537 times a day). She is also saying "baby", "mamma", "daddy", and oodles of adorable baby-gibberish. Ivy shares Seth's love of music and dancing. We rock out to everything from "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" to Aerosmith, but I'd have to say Queen has become the kiddie favorite at the moment. The second that "We Will Rock You" starts, the two of them are doing the lap-clap right along with it - and I have never seen it end without Seth creating some nearby object into a guitar for the solo (last night it was the loaf of french bread that we were going to have for dinner - the boy's got vision). Let's see, what else.... Ivy has been making the funniest faces lately. She'll squint her eyes shut really tight, pucker her lips, and breathe really hard out of her nose - that's a good one. Several of her funny faces consist mainly of contorting her tongue into every shape and reach that the little thing is capable of - I'm very impressed with her dexterity! My favorite though is the "dry fish"/tantrum pose, where she throws her entire body away from you, creating an amazing arch, and then becoming completely rigid. Her dedication to such rigidity is pretty amazing. I mean, if you put her on a table or something she would look like a statue - a screaming statue. Priceless.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a feeling that we are getting glimpses into the beautiful and creative thing that will be "Ivy", and I can't wait to see more. Every day she learns something new. I feel so lucky every time I get to kiss those perfect round little cheeks (it's almost as though they have some sort of super-magnetic force that you are unable to resist - I dare you to try!). Somehow, I ended up with this angel of mine and wouldn't change her for a thing (I'd maybe tweek the sleeping situation :D).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I LOVE YOU SO MUCH IVY DAYLE!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-4539116247375388559?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/4539116247375388559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=4539116247375388559' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4539116247375388559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4539116247375388559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/03/little-nugget-had-birthday.html' title='The Little Nugget Had A Birthday'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R-BI2v_uMrI/AAAAAAAAAA8/KbFglCTLttk/s72-c/IMG_0013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-4484093866503498976</id><published>2008-03-05T12:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T12:12:09.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scenes From The Cage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R87-DIMTF_I/AAAAAAAAAAg/XXJ65HpH6Po/s1600-h/DSC03136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174352351587407858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R87-DIMTF_I/AAAAAAAAAAg/XXJ65HpH6Po/s400/DSC03136.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Do you think that Seth is trying to make a statement with this photo?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-4484093866503498976?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/4484093866503498976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=4484093866503498976' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4484093866503498976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4484093866503498976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/03/scenes-from-cage.html' title='Scenes From The Cage'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R87-DIMTF_I/AAAAAAAAAAg/XXJ65HpH6Po/s72-c/DSC03136.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-6677755880983591197</id><published>2008-03-03T21:13:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T22:14:04.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why My Dad Is The Best</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R8zhl6evpOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/DFuDa7CMoA8/s1600-h/DSC03147.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173758113411474658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R8zhl6evpOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/DFuDa7CMoA8/s400/DSC03147.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Recently, my sister Meg wrote in her blog about the origin of her unwavering love for the U of U.  It was titled "the year I became a Ute".  The next entry had a picture of several "Utah" souvenir items (a mug, flag, and license plate cover), from a very thoughtful and proactive father.  How sweet was that?  Anyway, here is the comment that I left: "It's like when celebrities mention a product on TV, and then get it sent to them! Do you think this would work for me too if I exclaimed my love of say... beef jerky?!?!".  Thus explains the delicious animal products shown above.  Now, I can either feel guilty about luring my poor father into such a cunning plot, or enjoy the salty sweetness of my score.  Either way, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;yum.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My Dad has always done things like this.  I don't know why I still get surprised.  He is absolutely the best Dad I could ask for.  My goal as a parent is to someday have my kids think of me as I do of him.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After thanking him for the treats, my Dad said something like "Yeah, I bet that you wish you'd have been a little more creative than beef jerky now, don't you?".  Not even a little bit.  Nothing says "I love you" and "You are by far my favorite daughter" (tee-hee :D) like a bit-o-jerky.  Love ya Dad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-6677755880983591197?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/6677755880983591197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=6677755880983591197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/6677755880983591197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/6677755880983591197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/03/why.html' title='Why My Dad Is The Best'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_5o2pCAZ8xoU/R8zhl6evpOI/AAAAAAAAAAY/DFuDa7CMoA8/s72-c/DSC03147.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-2958856762085630974</id><published>2008-02-27T22:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T00:41:27.523-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag, I'm It!</title><content type='html'>I've been "tagged".  Everyone is surely on pins and needles, just waiting for me to divulge more insight about what exactly makes me, Me (please note the sarcasm).  Here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10 Years Ago:   Oh boy.  At this time in 1998, I was preparing to graduate from Lone Peak High School!  With only a few months to go, I was already as good as gone - that's why I am still shocked by the fact that my last term was the only time I &lt;em&gt;ever &lt;/em&gt;managed to pull a 4.0!  I was itching to leave the Partridge nest and saving up the money to do so (I had a pretty good wad stashed).  I was determined to shed my shy, wall-flower persona and become someone &lt;em&gt;completely &lt;/em&gt;different before college (haha).  I &lt;strong&gt;loved&lt;/strong&gt; Jared Leto, They Might Be Giants, Primus, "Better Off Dead", and the idea that any day I would finally meet the guy I was supposed to marry.... Christian Bale.   This was also the climactic period of the "Kate vs Meg" throw-downs, they were EPIC!&lt;br /&gt;If I could go back now, I think that I would just try to enjoy things more.  I remember feeling tense all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Things On My To-Do List For Today:  Seeing how it's almost midnight (my only alone time), my first thing is to get through the night.  Specifically, trek back and forth 7-10 times to Ivy's crib when she cries, eventually giving in to what she really wants - a spot between Mom and Dad (&lt;strong&gt;perpendicular&lt;/strong&gt;, I should say).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 - Potty training&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 - Finish painting my bathroom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 - Organize closets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 - Finish the dishes from tonight (I can actually picture Rachael cringe.... and Chrissy's nod of approval)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snacks I Enjoy:  Now we're talking!  I could go on and on really.  I don't necessarily enjoy "sweets" more than other foods either.  Anything with cheese.  Hot wings (but not too hot).  Guacamole.  French Fries (with fry sauce, of course).  Strawberries, Peaches, Oranges.  Vanilla ice-cream.  Cornbread with honeybutter.  Salt and Vinegar potato chips.  Peanut M&amp;amp;M's.  Soft Pretzels (without salt).  Cherry Limeades.  A really well thought out sandwich.  Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I Were Suddenly A Billionaire:  I would move back to Utah (probably &lt;strong&gt;still&lt;/strong&gt; have to move into my parents basement considering how much housing has gone up - haha),  hire a housekeeper,   take a picture of Todd's face when he hears that he will never have to work again,  randomly hand strangers cash and say "hi, I'm worth billions",  know I can finally afford to shop at the Gap and Gymboree but still go to Target because I like it,  designate half of it specifically for charities,  swim in coins a la Scrooge McDuck,  travel the world with my family,  eat only &lt;em&gt;organic&lt;/em&gt; (yeah, right),  hire a Personal Trainer,  send my kids to any school that they want to go to,  give lots and lots of lavish gifts to everyone I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 Bad Habits (only 3?):  (1)  I am a procrastinator extraordinaire  (2)  I leave dishes to "soak"  (3)  I &lt;strong&gt;always&lt;/strong&gt; underestimate how much time things will take&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Places I Have Lived:  Fort Collins, Colorado -  Herriman, Utah   -  Salt Lake City, Utah  -  Alpine, Utah  -  Heber, Utah &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Jobs I've Had:  Painter,  Wedding Planner/ Consultant/ Bench Mover,  Waitress,  Under-paid Old Navy Slave,  Candy Cane Decorator&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 Things People Don't Know About Me:  (1)  I'm a terrible liar, I sweat and can't look someone in the eye (or else look at them too hard - like without blinking). &lt;br /&gt;(2)  I really want to feel what it would be like to punch someone square in the face (I know, kinda creepy)&lt;br /&gt;(3)  I took a kyaking course once, and was the only one in class who couldn't do the "roll over".  When the kyak flipped, I'd completely panic and bail out every time - even though we were in a swimming pool!  I still get panicky even thinking about it.&lt;br /&gt;(4)  I cut my own hair, because salons are a rip-off.  I also love to cut other peoples hair (any volunteers?)&lt;br /&gt;(5)  I really don't like the color purple, something about it just annoys me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there's me in a nutshell.  After reading this, you either feel like you know me a little better or a little &lt;em&gt;too&lt;/em&gt; well.  So, "you're welcome" or "I'm sorry" :D.  I'm now supposed to "tag" some people, so let's hear from Christina Cloe, Rachael Anne, and Norman.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-2958856762085630974?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/2958856762085630974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=2958856762085630974' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/2958856762085630974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/2958856762085630974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/02/tag-im-it.html' title='Tag, I&apos;m It!'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-308999240057052847</id><published>2008-02-13T21:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T22:30:37.491-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sneaky Me</title><content type='html'>My Dad told me, not long ago, that I was the "sneakiest" of his children.  I kinda forgot about it until today, while I was parusing merchandise at the "Dollar Tree" ("All-A-Dollar" was such a better name).  We are planning a trip to Disneyland in a few days,  a place notorious for overpriced fluff and feathers - the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;most&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; enticing fluff and feathers of fluff and feathers anywhere.  So, I thought that I'd be so smart, and stock up on some Disney paraphenalia &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; we even get there.  Sneaky huh?!  I found some Mickey crayons, Mickey Go Fish, etc.  But my crowning glory will be this:  Nightfall- that's when you realize suddenly that you are completely surrounded by glowing neon.  Every kid wants one, a glow-in-the-dark neon necklace, bracelet, twirly-wand, crown, toupee, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;anything! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  I, for one, have to debate each time whether to reason with a stubborn 3 year-old that it is "just too expensive" or to dig, oh-so-very-deeply, into our not-so-deep pockets - man that hurts.  As soon as Seth turns to me with that pleading look on his face, I'm going to be the coolest Mom ever when I pull out a virtual slew of neon items!  And I will have a huge grin on my face, more from the self-righteousness of my own frugality than from actually making Seth happy - oh well.  That's the plan anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I know that this is a whole different kind of "sneaky" than what my Dad was talking about, but I'm trying to branch out.  :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Somebody needs to clue me in on how to add music to this thing*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-308999240057052847?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/308999240057052847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=308999240057052847' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/308999240057052847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/308999240057052847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/02/sneaky-me.html' title='Sneaky Me'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-1172853485723051347</id><published>2008-02-06T15:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-06T16:51:50.518-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pizza By The Book</title><content type='html'>Wednesday is our Library day. We go there for a few hours. Seth loves to sit at the computer and have "Green Eggs and Ham" read to him over and over. Ivy loves the pop-up books, "Star Wars" being her favorite. I love wandering the aisles, and the very idea that I'm surrounded by so much information. Yeah, I'm a total and complete nerd, but I'm also totally and completely down with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember how awesome it was to earn a monthly Personal Pan at good old Pizza Hut by simply reading. As a kid, you get rewarded for doing things that you would otherwise never do. That's why I couldn't quite figure out how in the world I'd earn prizes for reading. It's all I wanted to do when I was younger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have read for days at a time. Sleeping, eating, school, church, and basic hygiene burdened me as obstacles to what I really wanted to be doing. My favorite place to escape was behind the green chair in our old living room. I felt virtually invisible there (boy, I could really use a place like that again).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a confession to make. Mom, stop reading now if you'd like to keep your unsoiled memories of me intact (&lt;em&gt;hey! &lt;/em&gt;I saw that eye-roll!) In elementary school... when we would have to hand in our reading log's... I would actually... &lt;em&gt;lower &lt;/em&gt;the amount of pages that I had read!!! I'm so glad to get that off of my chest! It's been weighing me down for years.  I'm finally free!  I would get so embarrassed about reading 10x the amount that anyone else had, that I was afraid people would think that I was lying. Getting questioned about it would have been absolutely humiliating, so I tried to stay below the radar. Be honest, you see me differently now, don't you?.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd think that having torn through so many books, my spelling and grammar would be better. Hmmm... go figure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, things haven't changed much, just my priorities. Kids and husbands are just SO needy....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-1172853485723051347?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/1172853485723051347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=1172853485723051347' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/1172853485723051347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/1172853485723051347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/02/pizza-by-book.html' title='Pizza By The Book'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-5370884902573456331</id><published>2008-02-05T12:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T23:25:56.775-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's My Potty, And I'll Cry If I Want To</title><content type='html'>If you read through my first blog, first of all I'm surprised that you returned, secondly I'm sure that you can recall my feelings about potty training. If not, I'll quote directly from before, "I hate, &lt;em&gt;hate, &lt;strong&gt;HATE &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;potty training!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, as if you couldn't gather already, our home is the site of a potty training war zone. It's ridiculous. Just when you think you've conquered your enemy, you're caught in an ambush. I'm just hoping I make it through. Is there a post-traumatic-stress program for this kind of thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I have a weak stomach. I can change the nastiest diaper without a flinch. I don't hesitate in the slightest way when addressing the goo-iest of runny noses. I'll even drink from the same soda that my kids do, the first quarter of it at least. But when it comes to good old number one and two in the control of a 3 year old boy, things change. I won't go into details, I'll just say that Clorox Wipes hold a prominent position in my nightly prayers. I'm not kidding. If it weren't for those little beauties, I'm not sure that I could handle it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll end this with a shout out to my little guy. This stuff is confusing, and really an odd concept. Not only does he have to deal with figuring out how to control his own plumbing, but also deal with the fact that his mom is kinda wacko. Despite all this, he is a happy, enthusiastic and smart kid. I'm so proud of him, and know that he can bag this thing. &lt;strong&gt;Way to go, Seth!!! You're doing great! &lt;/strong&gt;That being said, the thought that Ivy isn't too far away from the same process, and that we have to do all of this again, makes me want to cry (more).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW- Every bump we run into on this road of child-rearing, makes me realize more and more what great parents I have. Thanks Mom and Dad, for teaching me to wipe. :D Gross.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***Five minutes after I finished writing this, I had a "present" waiting for me. My son weighs a whopping 30 lbs. and must have a 1.5 gallon bladder. He's a marvel. I could sell tickets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-5370884902573456331?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/5370884902573456331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=5370884902573456331' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/5370884902573456331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/5370884902573456331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-my-potty-and-ill-cry-if-i-want-to.html' title='It&apos;s My Potty, And I&apos;ll Cry If I Want To'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8244164089895564958.post-4865910957764282894</id><published>2008-02-01T19:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-05T15:46:13.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Do This Thing</title><content type='html'>It's about time that I jump aboard the blog train. I think that I waited so long because I was afraid that I might lower the level of quality that my sisters have attained......then Chrissy started her blog and took all my worries away. *zing*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not start with Meg's 100 fun facts? Hopefully I can come up with that many without revealling &lt;em&gt;too &lt;/em&gt;much about myself (or putting anyone to sleep).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1- I think it's really cool to have a brother-in-law named "Norm"&lt;br /&gt;2- Until I was about 16, I wanted to work at Disneyland so bad that I said "cleaning toilets" there would have been an honor. Now, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;3- I love the cookie part of Oreos, and despise the Crisco "cream"&lt;br /&gt;4- I have absolutely no scrapbooking skills&lt;br /&gt;5- I hate that the saying "you just wait until you have your &lt;em&gt;own &lt;/em&gt;kids" is now relevant&lt;br /&gt;6- I hate dealing with money&lt;br /&gt;7- I love to cook, anything - but hate to clean up&lt;br /&gt;8- pet peeve - when people say "I could care less" instead of "I &lt;em&gt;couldn't&lt;/em&gt; care less"&lt;br /&gt;9- I tend to always choose green things, even though I don't really have a "favorite" color&lt;br /&gt;10- I really don't like the color purple (the hue, not the movie) - it bothers me&lt;br /&gt;11- I hate, &lt;em&gt;hate, &lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HATE &lt;/strong&gt;potty training!!!&lt;br /&gt;12- I wish sometimes that I had red hair - like fire engine red&lt;br /&gt;13- Target gets a lot of our money&lt;br /&gt;14- Lately, I've been obsessed with Panera Bread's sourdough bread bowls (yum)&lt;br /&gt;15- I love how different each sister is in the Partridge family&lt;br /&gt;16- Sometimes I miss having the "Partridge" name&lt;br /&gt;17- I am totally oblivious to current music&lt;br /&gt;18- Anything Elvis sings makes me happy&lt;br /&gt;19- I have anxiety attacks and can't sleep&lt;br /&gt;20- I'm obsessive about my handwriting on checks - I hesitate to hand it over if it doesn't "look right"&lt;br /&gt;21- Whenever I'm playing in the ocean, I can't imagine being happier&lt;br /&gt;22- I cry so much easier now than I did before having kids (sappy commercials, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;23- Christian Bale has been my crush since I was 12 - no one else comes close&lt;br /&gt;24- at a funeral, I'd rather be in the casket than giving the eulogy (a Seinfeld joke about public speaking) - I seriously think I am agoraphobic&lt;br /&gt;25- Todd makes fun of me for thinking that my dad has the answer for &lt;em&gt;everthing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26- even the thought of elbow and knee guts makes me squeamish - eeewwww&lt;br /&gt;27- I faint around needles (I just felt my eyes roll a bit)&lt;br /&gt;28- I wish I knew how to do my hair really cute, but I don't&lt;br /&gt;29- I wish I knew how to apply cool makeup, but I don't&lt;br /&gt;30- I catch myself staring for so long at my kids, they are so good lookin'!&lt;br /&gt;31- I've always wanted a St. Bernard, and to name it "Baron Von Goldfish" (this is falling into the realm of revealling &lt;em&gt;too &lt;/em&gt;much, isn't it)&lt;br /&gt;32- I have allergies to dogs, cats, horses....pretty much anything with hair (goodbye "Baron")&lt;br /&gt;33- snakes are horrifying (if I knew a stronger word for it, I'd use it)- nothing without legs should be able to move that fast. They are the physical form of all that is evil.&lt;br /&gt;34- It bothers me that there are even pictures of snakes in Seth's books (that's right, they are slithering their way into a second slot). It makes me nervous when he touches those pictures.&lt;br /&gt;35- When I ride my bike, I wonder why I don't do it more often&lt;br /&gt;36- I love to sing along with the music, but always sing the wrong words&lt;br /&gt;37- I am self-conscious at nearly every moment&lt;br /&gt;38- I could sleep for 12 hours straight&lt;br /&gt;39- I'm jealous of Chrissy right now. I loved my first year in college.&lt;br /&gt;40- I really liked wearing uniforms to work (waitressing)&lt;br /&gt;41- I was a terrible waitress&lt;br /&gt;42- I love to bargain shop&lt;br /&gt;43- I love the dollar store&lt;br /&gt;44- I tiled a bathroom all by myself recently - it took months&lt;br /&gt;45- When I make dinner, I still get nervous about whether or not Todd will like it&lt;br /&gt;46- It really wigs me out when I get called "maam"&lt;br /&gt;47- When I was a teenager, I would spend hours upon hours by myself in my room, and loved it.&lt;br /&gt;48- I still really enjoy being by myself - doesn't happen much&lt;br /&gt;49- Even if I'm up at 7:30 a.m, I never fully wake up until about noon&lt;br /&gt;50- I love to sleep, but I fight going to bed for some reason&lt;br /&gt;51- I am always coming up with ideas for inventions, but never know how to get started&lt;br /&gt;52- I really like the show Project Runway, and it makes me want to design clothes&lt;br /&gt;53- I don't sleep well, unless I'm on my stomach&lt;br /&gt;54- I hate Donald Trump&lt;br /&gt;55- I used to wish I had a different name, now I like it&lt;br /&gt;56- I started a fight with a boy in 5th grade, got hit once and ran.&lt;br /&gt;57- For show-and-tell, I told the class that that boy had "chipped my rib"&lt;br /&gt;58- I snuck out of our house one night, when we lived in Heber, and just wandered around the neighborhood for hours - it made sense to me then&lt;br /&gt;59- I love jumping on a trampoline in the rain&lt;br /&gt;60- I like rainy days more than sunny ones - probably due to my albino-ness&lt;br /&gt;61- I earned a 4.0, my last term of senior year. It made me mad because it was the only time that I hadn't even tried.&lt;br /&gt;62- I won't do open-caskets. I can't bear the thought of having an altereed memory of someone.&lt;br /&gt;63- I hate talking on the phone to anyone but family&lt;br /&gt;64- I &lt;strong&gt;hate &lt;/strong&gt;leaving messages- I'm so bad at it, and always fumble around words&lt;br /&gt;65- I stress out about everything&lt;br /&gt;66- My favorite number is "7"&lt;br /&gt;67- Todd says that whenever I think something is ugly or tacky I say it's "so 80's" (where good taste went to die, in my opinion)&lt;br /&gt;68- MY BIGGEST PET PEEVE - &lt;strong&gt;LITTERING &lt;/strong&gt;- It drives me insane to see someone throw something on the ground intentionally or out their car window. It is so pompous and entitled.&lt;br /&gt;69- I love fairy tales.&lt;br /&gt;70- It seems like I am never home on my birthday&lt;br /&gt;71- I could read for days and days at time&lt;br /&gt;72- I'm so afraid to pass on my shyness to my kids&lt;br /&gt;73- I love that moment where you've just put kids to bed and don't have anything to do but drop into the couch and veg&lt;br /&gt;74- I am paranoid about being watched while I sleep&lt;br /&gt;75- I can't stand wearing clothing that has the brand name written across it. Why am I paying to be a billboard?&lt;br /&gt;76- When I get complimented on something that I found for a great deal, I can't help immediately stating it (someone says "cute shoes", I say "32 cents at Macy's!" - it's like I get excited about it all over again!&lt;br /&gt;77- My feet are always cold&lt;br /&gt;78- I still get told that I look like Liv Tyler&lt;br /&gt;79- I love "fake" mashed potatoes&lt;br /&gt;80- I still get jealous thinking about Todd's past girlfriends - gggrrrrrr&lt;br /&gt;81- I hate eating at McDonalds&lt;br /&gt;82- I wish I could hang out with my parents more often&lt;br /&gt;83- I hate having my picture taken&lt;br /&gt;84- I feel more comfortable with kids than with adults&lt;br /&gt;85- I think I'm a really good driver&lt;br /&gt;86- I hate wearing socks (probably why my feet are always cold, eh?)&lt;br /&gt;87- I can't stand the texture of celery sticks, it's like eating hair&lt;br /&gt;88- I am the worst liar in the world - I get so nervous&lt;br /&gt;89- I always afraid that I'll hurt someones feelings&lt;br /&gt;90- Summer nights are the best&lt;br /&gt;91- I always underestimate the time that something will take&lt;br /&gt;92- I love visene&lt;br /&gt;93- I never felt as though I had as much musical ability as my sisters did&lt;br /&gt;94- I always feel unprepared&lt;br /&gt;95- My car is a mess, and usually is&lt;br /&gt;96- I love the smell of freshly cut wood&lt;br /&gt;97- Having someone touch my feet in any way is torture - I hate it&lt;br /&gt;98- Sandwiches are the best. I can always eat a good sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;99- I've recently become addicted to Coke Zero. They are SO good!&lt;br /&gt;100- It's so hard for me to finish things. I probably try harder not to finish things than to finish them. (this list being an exception)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you go. Way more about me than you'd probably ever want to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8244164089895564958-4865910957764282894?l=katetheskate.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/feeds/4865910957764282894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8244164089895564958&amp;postID=4865910957764282894' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4865910957764282894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8244164089895564958/posts/default/4865910957764282894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katetheskate.blogspot.com/2008/02/lets-do-this-thing.html' title='Let&apos;s Do This Thing'/><author><name>katetheskate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02657103468360132358</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
