tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2887699367139812302024-03-05T18:12:18.815-08:00House of PayneA Little Journey Through Life With Dan, Laurie and KyliePayne Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15994449158542338056noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-26536040964726321502011-03-09T10:06:00.000-08:002011-03-09T10:30:37.347-08:00Such a tender soul<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTHM3Yn5TXxs9LXLVp6V56OIAVT9BM-ZRPqJuFTQJJmwN2jC01ZA4pVpKf6Lzhhm94LWO9ZtpeC08Luj6ZeL2hCClov1iBTSUHQf5OBax7Q2ZUK59vIgzqZffKogliXodZf2_fbDNpTU/s1600/10.12.31+New+Years+%252854%2529.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTHM3Yn5TXxs9LXLVp6V56OIAVT9BM-ZRPqJuFTQJJmwN2jC01ZA4pVpKf6Lzhhm94LWO9ZtpeC08Luj6ZeL2hCClov1iBTSUHQf5OBax7Q2ZUK59vIgzqZffKogliXodZf2_fbDNpTU/s200/10.12.31+New+Years+%252854%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5582149361732367586" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">This story starts out with the happenings of a normal evening. Ky and Dan headed to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">PetCo</span> with the dogs in tow. Dan with <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Tiana</span> and Ky with Sid. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">Fast Forward several hours.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">We took Ky to bed, fed the frogs, read a story about Dinosaurs, said prayers and gave kisses good night. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">Within a couple of minutes I hear sobbing coming from Ky's room. I head upstairs and sit on the edge of her bed to find out what is wrong. She can hardly contain herself and I have to tell her to take a few deep breaths so I can understand her. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">Come to find out, when she went to the pet store a little boy wanted to pet Sid but Ky was on her way out and trying to catch up with Dan and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Tiana</span>, so she did not let him. She said she had been feeling bad about it all night because she doesn't like it when she feels like she has hurt someones feelings. She just knew that little boy was sad and she felt terrible about it.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">My heart melted. My seven year old has a heart, a heart made of solid gold. </span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(255, 204, 51); font-weight: bold;">Not to worry, I explained to her the importance of her feelings and assured her she did nothing wrong, that it was just bad timing and the little boy at the store surely understood that. She slept well that night and is now better prepared for the next time she hurts someones feelings on accident. </span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-31888766309135743602010-12-09T12:44:00.001-08:002011-02-07T18:08:07.995-08:00Whew! It's been a while..<span style="color:#ff9900;">Well, summer had many things to offer us this year which managed to completely remove our desire and ability to blog. Through the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">good's</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">bad's</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">up's</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">down's</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">high's</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">low's</span>, we hunkered down to simply enjoy the company of each other all summer long.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Now that the sun and warmth has abandoned us, I figure it's about time to become part of the world once again and provide an update or two.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">We learned that our wonderful and loving Boxer, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kota</span> had Cancer which prevented her from eating. The smaller she got, the more our hearts broke and eventually we had to make the hardest decision of our lives. Special thanks to <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error">Oquirrh</span> Hills <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Veterinary</span> for caring for our dog.. and for us during that difficult time. Maybe one day I will be strong enough to tell the story of that day. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">The void in our hearts was later filled with a spunky Doberman puppy, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tiana</span>. While she is completely different than <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">Kota</span> was, she seems to have wiggled her way right into our hearts. As a tiny puppy, she was naughty, biting everyone and chewing on everything. With time though, she has gained some wonderful skills (thanks to some due-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">diligence</span>, and fantastic training advice from <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">Communicanine</span> Dog Training Service, Thanks Ty!). <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error">Tiana</span> loves to cuddle, eat and play in the snow. Sid has taken well to her but he obviously despises the fact that she will take his toys and treats whenever she wants.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Kylie started Chinese Immersion this year in 1st grade. She spends half her day doing normal 1st grade things, and the other half being immersed in Chinese. This has been great for her in so many ways! We <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">didn't</span> realize how much she was learning until we attend parent teacher <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_15" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">conferences</span> and watched our baby have a full conversation in Chinese. Fantastic!</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Dan ran his first Marathon in South Jordan, rumored to be the hardest <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_16" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Marathon</span> around, even by seasoned runners. He is excited to add to that count in 2011. We are all so incredibly proud of his accomplishments and hope that one day the whole family, can join in this new exciting and healthy way of life. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Dan also earned his Bachelors Degree this year. His dedication and hard work has finally paid off and he is thrilled about spending more time with the family with his extra time. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Laurie (that's me), ran a 5k this year and started to learn Chinese. While my progression on both fronts are not nearly as advanced as Dan and Ky, I am enjoying myself a whole lot.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Well, I think that about does it. Y'all enjoy!</span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-80801353244526595642010-06-01T20:32:00.000-07:002010-06-01T22:23:48.189-07:00Kota medical journal<span style="color:#ffcc00;">Those who are close to us are aware that shortly after we were married we added an amazing addition to our family. A beautiful fawn colored baby Boxer. Kota has been a significant part of our lives for over 8 years. This entry is a small journal of her medical history, in case I ever need to remember.<br /><br />The first bit of tragedy happened when Kota was about 3 months. We learned the scary way that she was highly allergic to bee stings. After a trip to the Emergency Vet, we learned to keep benedryl close by. Cost: $250.<br /><br />Shortly after that we learned Kota was also allergic to the sun. One of her favorite things to do is to bask in the sun for hours, however she always returned with little hives covering her back. Just causing the hair to stand up in little spotty areas. The benedryl helped when they seemed bothersome but that was only required a couple of times. The rest of the sun instances have taken care of themselves within 30 minutes or so.<br /><br />At about 3 years old, she started losing the hair on her back. After many vet visits and a special canine skin doctor we learned that she was allergic to the changing seasons. Apparently her body thought it was not time yet for a new season, so a little Melatonin was prescribed to help her body realize that it was time for a season change. Cost $950.<br /><br />At 6 years old, we noticed a lump on her back. At first it was just like all of the other little hives she would get from the sun, but unlike the other sun bumps this one did not go away- at all. Within a couple of months it seemed to stick out a little more and changed to a blackish-purple color, it was also now joined by a second little "bump" thing, so I took her into the vet. The vet said "Just like humans, Dogs get warts and moles. These are nothing to be concerned about." Cost: $85.<br /><br />At 7 years old we went camping where Kota saw another dog whom she decided she did not like and began to growl and bark. As she got more excited about this other dog, I noticed a walnut sized lump on her side near her belly. Within a couple of minutes after Kota had calmed down, the lump had shrank and was just a flat piece of skin, like a soft flat wart looking thing.<br /><br />Within a couple of days, I had seen this lump each time Kota got upset or angry, so I took her back to the vet. This time I learned that the doctor (same office, different doctor) actually was concerned about the lump on her side, AND the two on her back. He wanted to take them out and have them tested. Within a week we learned that all three lumps were Mast Cell Tumors. Kota had Stage 1 cancer. At this point we needed to widen the margins of the cells removed, she needed more surgery and bigger cuts. Cost:$3500.<br /><br />At 8 years old, Kota wet the bed. She had never done this before, ever. This happened several times within a week. We took her to the vet, who did blood and urine tests. All came back negative so they marked it off to old age and sent us home with pills to help strengthen her pee muscle (I forgot what it is called). Cost $190.00<br /><br />Within a few weeks, the urinating had subsided a bit but not completely, and we noticed she had started drinking TONS of water. We stopped giving her the pills and within a week she was peeing everywhere, every time she went to sleep; so we put her back on the pills and took her back to the vet who wanted to do more tests. Apparently the first set of urine tests were diluted and they would need to start over. Again they found nothing and suggested X-ray's. Cost: $250.<br /><br />It was within the X-ray's that they found a tumor in Kota's chest. After this, they felt it important to inform us that her white blood cell count was up during that first set of tests, which could mean cancer is in her blood stream and her organs. In order to find out, they would need to do an ultra sound. They would also need to extract fluid from the tumor and to do this, she would need to be sedated. Suggested cost: $1200. Keep in mind, this would only tell us if it is cancer and where it might be in her body, this has nothing to do with treating anything they find.<br /><br />The following weekend (while we were to discuss if we wanted to do these tests), we took Kota camping. The whole time, she drank and drank and drank and within 2 days, she had stopped eating. Kota is the kind of dog who, if you leave her alone, she will steal a loaf of bread off the counter and eat the whole thing, so this was very out of the ordinary for her.<br /><br />This was just this last weekend and as of this afternoon Kota has started eating again, perhaps she was tired and/or stressed from the camping surroundings.<br /><br />We decided not to do the tests as we feel it will just add to our stress and to hers. She hates the vet and is miserable and stressed to the max with each visit. I thought it may be good to at least know where the cancer was so we could have an idea as to how much longer we would have with her. But, to what end? I don't get to choose how long she stays with us.<br /><br />It breaks my heart to think our time with her is limited, but I am proud to know that she has and will continue to live an amazing life for as long as we can keep her.</span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-65574869835096983412010-04-19T09:36:00.000-07:002010-04-19T09:55:38.171-07:00Daddy Daughter experience.<span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Perhaps it was due to visiting late with friends the night before, running un-godly long distance runs, having a slight sinus cold or doing yard work in the warm sun; but Dan was extremely tired this past Saturday. As he sat in his chair after dinner, he shared his lack of energy with Kylie and I. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Ky advised confidently, "I know how to fix that." </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>"You do? How?"</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Kylie got off her chair, calmly walked toward him and placed both hands on his face, one on each cheek. Slowly then, she pulled one hand slightly off his face and... SMACK! </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>All he could do was chuckle and shake his head. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Perhaps it is because she is his only child.</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Or because she is a girl.</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Or because she is six.</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Or all of that combined. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>But she got away with it and I enjoyed it immensely.</strong></span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-43850810922003833612010-02-09T20:18:00.000-08:002010-02-10T09:53:09.472-08:00Kota is one of a kind....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvKp0nWHFXsShWyECyD35-VyvuiUJhrd5Ai0sU9BlHHQCn4_Ui9z-akPRXz9qCEuSopNZEvnAq_aqQMnwjl5U7dywjiohoASRIo5OyifPEBYlEboSt0e3LV6dGBB48dW2VejYHQk7XVk/s1600-h/kota.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 199px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmvKp0nWHFXsShWyECyD35-VyvuiUJhrd5Ai0sU9BlHHQCn4_Ui9z-akPRXz9qCEuSopNZEvnAq_aqQMnwjl5U7dywjiohoASRIo5OyifPEBYlEboSt0e3LV6dGBB48dW2VejYHQk7XVk/s200/kota.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436471864839750450" /></a><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>Yep, that's her; Kota. She is almost 8 years old and clearly in her senior years. Laurie and I purchased Kota soon after we were married in 2002, she was there to greet us when we brought Kylie home from the hospital. Kota is truly one of a kind. She normally sleeps at the foot of our bed, snoring and snotting her way to sleep every night. OK, I lied. She doesn't normally sleep at the foot of our bed, she normally sleeps on top of our bed between my legs wrapped up in a little ball. Laurie hogs the blankets, I hog the dog. <br /><br />Lately for the past few months Kota has decided that my legs or our bed is not good enough for her anymore, she has taken over the couch in the living room. We try to coax her into bed with us, but she just grunts and goes back to sleep on the couch. Wonder what we did? <br /><br />Well, the last couple weeks I've been having a sinus infection that does not want to go away, one night I woke up at 2AM shivering out of my mind, I got out of bed, shivered my way to the kitchen sink to get a drink of water and could hear my teeth chattering on my way back to bed. I COULD NOT get warm. I laid in bed trying to convince myself that it's all in my head, that I could control these chills, that worked for about 30 seconds. Thoughts were going through my mind "is there anything I can take that will stop this?, should I wake Laurie up?, What IF I wake Laurie up?" After about 20 minutes of non stop chills, I heard a familiar noise, the shaking of a collar. I hear the collar slowly approach our room and feel something jump up on our bed, travel over to me, and curl up in a tight ball next to my chest, its Kota. After a bit, her warmth radiated me and made the shivers subside. <br /><br />Now, am I up in the night to think that Kota knew what was going on? Or was it luck of the draw?Payne Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15994449158542338056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-7728829822695288262010-01-28T12:58:00.000-08:002010-01-28T15:00:38.173-08:00Tricking the Tooth Fairy<span style="color:#ffff00;">As I walked Kylie to bed the other night she experienced a mental break down. She was sobbing so hard I could not understand a word she was trying to say.<br /><br />We reached the top of the stairs and I was finally able to understand pieces of speech between the sobbing. She had done something wrong and she should not have done it.<br /><br />I sat her on her bed and asked her what had happened. Again, she started with uncontrollable sobbing with what seemed like words in between the sobs. I asked her to take a breath to calm down a little bit, so she did. The sobbing had subsided a bit and she was crying but now I could understand her.<br /><br />"I took my favorite rock and put it under my pillow so the Tooth Fairy would think it was a tooth and give me some money, but she took the rock and didn't leave me any money and now I don't have my favorite rock anymore AND I don't have any money!!"<br /><br />So I asked her, "So you are upset that you don't have your rock?"<br /><br />She says "Yes, and I don't have any money either!"<br /><br />So we used this experience as a lesson in honesty. Though I must admit that I felt a little hypocritical by telling her not to <u>LIE</u> to the <u>TOOTH FAIRY</u>.</span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-486613417155288892009-12-23T08:42:00.000-08:002009-12-23T08:52:43.806-08:003 in 1<span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>During our morning routine of getting ready for the day Ky was taking a shower. I helped her wash the shampoo out of her hair and continued getting ready myself while she finished her shower. As I was finishing my makeup I looked over at the shower and noticed Kylie with suds in her hair again. I have to admit I was not happy about more soap in her hair and got a little testy with her. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"Kylie! Why did you put more soap in your hair?!"</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>She said defensively, "MOM! I AM ON THE LAST ONE!"</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"Ky, you already washed your hair, now you are just waisting time."</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"But Mom, I am on the LAST ONE!"</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>"Kylie, you should be done by now."</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>She looked at me like I obviously did not know what I was talking about and picks up the shampoo bottle. Pointing to it she says, "Mom, it says 3 in 1. I am on the LAST one!"</strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>... wow.</strong></span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-89787142936283656382009-12-17T09:20:00.000-08:002009-12-23T08:53:20.587-08:00Oh the joys of life<strong><span style="color:#ffcc00;">As I was doing Ky's hair the other day I noticed the shirt she was wearing was inching up her arms. I just bought that shirt in August with a cute little skirt and now it is too small. So I mention to her.. "Gee, this shirt is getting too small already?" </span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">She turns to me and says, "It's not getting smaller mommy, I am getting bigger"</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Yes, my beautiful girl, you are. :D</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">-------------------------------------------------------------------------</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">Ky's homework yesterday was to practice writing her address. I decided it would be best to make her do it 3 times instead of once so she could improve her writing. This tedious task took her over 30 minutes to complete and she groaned the whole time, "I hate homework Mommy", "This is taking forever Mommy", "Can I just do it once Mommy?".. so needless to say, when she was done she was not in the mood for more learning.</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">As she finished, I asked her to tell me what her address was with out looking at the paper. She recites the whole thing perfectly until she got to the zip code. I look at her and say "8".. "4".. </span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">She repeats "84..." </span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I give her the look of "keep going" </span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">And she says "apple?"</span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">"Really Ky? Apple? You think there is an apple in your address?"</span></strong>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-6680857992580191242009-11-04T11:38:00.000-08:002009-12-23T08:53:40.427-08:00Proud as a Peacock<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWd62eNmATNQXgpCXilQbhreWYTMg-qCBenu2yWgsdCq2qO795nKaGghX84QltH8wC9bK4w60szeSkxLrxZiyZue0L51qLwjElaWcmeU6gdvZnd02tdIk2YTrV-XxZykPF8OYiR7XuDKM/s1600-h/peacock.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400337728859108114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 133px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWd62eNmATNQXgpCXilQbhreWYTMg-qCBenu2yWgsdCq2qO795nKaGghX84QltH8wC9bK4w60szeSkxLrxZiyZue0L51qLwjElaWcmeU6gdvZnd02tdIk2YTrV-XxZykPF8OYiR7XuDKM/s200/peacock.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Kylie's Kindergarten teacher has come up with some creative ways to explain certain actions or feelings. For example: busy as a bee, quiet as a mouse and proud as a peacock. I am so glad she did.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Kylie was practicing her letters the other day and had done a great job at some of them. She was telling me that certain letters looked really good and asked if I agreed, which of course I did and stated that to her.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>After her homework was done she sat back just staring at her work and looked up at me beaming, and said "Mom, I am Proud as a Peacock!" There was an unmistakable glow to her face.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>It was at this point that I realized that before hearing about the expression "proud as a peacock" she had no outlet to describe this type of pride in herself. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Since this day we often use the term "proud as a peacock" to assure she can express that aspect of her feelings.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><strong>Thank you to Mrs Robinson for sharing this term with us. :D</strong></span></div>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-62595711660664144342009-08-06T09:15:00.000-07:002009-08-06T09:20:19.936-07:00My Strawberry<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2uo2hIMDuE-YfyejdTWx2X74AunEA-If_bDCDEfwmQPt7eAvpJaHMv4SAKgitkfzPwxVWwTpyKHqz8dvZSGQbCp8zQ8FhRSbHUt_RxtN9mHU-HxvwztVcMOP9ZcWME1Kh0ztk7UL3_M/s1600-h/gardenp6.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366885632257694690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2uo2hIMDuE-YfyejdTWx2X74AunEA-If_bDCDEfwmQPt7eAvpJaHMv4SAKgitkfzPwxVWwTpyKHqz8dvZSGQbCp8zQ8FhRSbHUt_RxtN9mHU-HxvwztVcMOP9ZcWME1Kh0ztk7UL3_M/s200/gardenp6.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>This year is the first year we've attempted to plant and care for a garden, so far so good. Early this spring Kylie, Grandma Payne and I went to nursery to buy some herbs and vegetables to plant in the garden. I told Kylie she could pick something that she could take care of in the garden. After telling her such phrases as "no, that's too hot, you won't eat it" to "what is that?" Kylie decided that a strawberry plant would be hers to nurture and watch grow. Returning home we planted the plants with such care paying special attention to the placement of the strawberry plant. </div><div><br />My days after work consisted of racing Kylie out the back door, to our little haven to see what has happened in the past day. On one of these occasions into the garden, Kylie spotted one little green berry growing on her plant, she couldn't contain her excitement "Dad, I have a STRAWBERRY!!!!", so then the cycle started. </div><div><br />Every day she would caress that strawberry, speak soft, sweet words of encouragement to her little green berry. Eventually, that strawberry grew bigger and bigger till it was about the size of her thumb, except one dramatic change excited her even more "Dad, its PINK!!!” I can now see her mouth starting to water just imagining the sweet flavor of a strawberry. </div><div><br />Finally, her little green berry matured into a red, plump juicy strawberry, I told Kylie one more day and that berry is hers, she wasn't too happy but understood none the less. </div><div><br />The very next day, it was strawberry eating time, I came home from work with Kylie in tow, let the dogs out while Kylie was getting the shears out of the drawer so she could snip her treasure off the vine. We both stepped outside, and all of a sudden I heard the little angry voice yell "Sid, get out of the garden". As I look up, I see Kylie running toward the garden as fast as she can, but I also see that Sid is chewing furiously on something, my heart sinks, I know EXACTLY what has happened. Before I could say anything, Kylie in the most disappointed voices says "SID! That was MY straaawwbeeerrrry"</div>Payne Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15994449158542338056noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-36338038544628223922009-07-02T08:04:00.000-07:002009-12-23T08:54:05.829-08:00Imagination<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdocSVsmQekKDxqxU3d1Ekf-IpAfkaUBePPtyt_po4sgxJ0M8LejeS0O8igiGaj8s_OSCly7FF9TRZYGC-bxgWjuweyBdzoWHA-yZKujNg3GId-obhg1Q2k4tY_H_tUfu-JghCOUVpir4/s1600-h/ds_pink.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353883768406345698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdocSVsmQekKDxqxU3d1Ekf-IpAfkaUBePPtyt_po4sgxJ0M8LejeS0O8igiGaj8s_OSCly7FF9TRZYGC-bxgWjuweyBdzoWHA-yZKujNg3GId-obhg1Q2k4tY_H_tUfu-JghCOUVpir4/s200/ds_pink.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>A Child's imagination is a wonderful thing! </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Kylie recently "found" 500 new kids games (her words) on her Nintendo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">DS</span>, she is so excited about them.</strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>She was sitting on the couch next to me watching TV and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">apparently</span> got bored so she grabbed her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">DS</span> and started to play a game which builds hamburgers. As she played the game she would talk to it "I would like a cheese burger with no pickles, onions or mustard, I will move the bun over here, add the burger, put the cheese over here and oh, I need ketchup. There, it is done. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Yay</span>, I get extra points cause I did it so fast." All the while she is pointing and tapping on her device.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Then onto the next game, a fruit game where you choose your favorite fruits and put them in the bowl. She looks at me and says, "Mom, which fruit should I choose?" I tell her "Blueberries sound good, and perhaps <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Strawberries</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">also</span>." She says "OK, so I need to choose the 'berry bucket' and I will get all the berries. Mom, is watermelon a berry cause I want watermelon too." I say, "No, watermelon is a melon not a berry." She says "OK I'd better get the 'melon bucket' too, there is the melon bucket.. got it." This is a great bowl of fruit and I get an extra cupcake for doing it so fast." Again, this is done by pointing and tapping all over the screen.</strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>Next she plays a numbers game, but this time she wants me to play. "Mom, there are 14 numbers, which one do you want to choose?" I say "14", she says, "Mom, that is not one of the choices, you have to choose from these numbers." And she shows me her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">DS</span> so I can see which to choose from. </strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>I look over at the screen and it is black, the power is off. She is not playing a game. Well not a game that can be seen by anyone else.</strong></span></div><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><strong>I think it is about time to invest in another <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">DS</span> game.. or 500 of them.</strong></span></div></div>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-32852082494635437022009-04-17T06:36:00.000-07:002009-04-17T08:59:49.710-07:00Please let me be wrong about this.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSoaFXzer70_WE9ZpSIP9iKMUcjuUBD_EtvG7f1sqco40wdLzaJRQkC8JX9UW9s2EXmH6flTRJmt2gNUDUenfGWw-AEDttEfH2N_SopjQD8w_iyvuNTDmt2xXNlWd0EJHMcXl7E3zz6fk/s1600-h/oquirrh_mountain_lds_mormon_temple1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325656577187119586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSoaFXzer70_WE9ZpSIP9iKMUcjuUBD_EtvG7f1sqco40wdLzaJRQkC8JX9UW9s2EXmH6flTRJmt2gNUDUenfGWw-AEDttEfH2N_SopjQD8w_iyvuNTDmt2xXNlWd0EJHMcXl7E3zz6fk/s320/oquirrh_mountain_lds_mormon_temple1.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Let me preface by saying that I moved into my home because of its proximity to the LDS temple. I am simply thrilled to have such a beautiful structure near my home. I am so excited to be able to sit out on my front porch and view the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">magnificence</span> of the building. I also understood the increased traffic to the temple for those doing temple work and I am good with all that. Just so you all understand that.<br /><br /><br />The <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Oquirrh</span> Mountain Temple begins its open house soon and I attended a meeting to discuss the whole process to come. I went to the meeting to learn of the plan and honestly had perfect trust of what they had in mind. . . that feeling did not last long.<br /><br />There are 2 inlets for the neighborhood and 80% of the parking will have to enter through those 2 areas. The parking is going to be in 10 vacant combined lots (in the neighborhood) in 2 different spots along the ridge, which, combined are estimated to hold around 900 cars at a time. The hours of the open house will be from 8am to 855pm every day except Sunday (and Monday will close at 430pm). This goes from June through the end of August.<br /><br />They expect 9,000 people to attend daily, I would guess that is about 6,000 vehicles- 80% of that is 4800, half those cars will have to drive through my 'side' of the neighborhood to park- so 2400 per day. With 13 operating hours in a day, that is 185 cars per HOUR which is 3 cars per minute (one car every 20 seconds). And that is assuming that everyone in attendance is perfectly spaced, however we know that there will be times during the day which are more popular than others. AND they will be checking tickets upon entrance to the parking lots. ("Um, I swear it's here in my purse somewhere, just a second, Johnny, grab my purse there is a ticket in there, it is yellow and says 'ticket' on it... No, its in the other pocket, ugh, hand me my purse. Oh, I thought I had it, I must have left it at home." - To which they will deny entry. "Sorry ma'am, you will have to leave now.") But that will then INCREASE the traffic cause now they have to leave and come BACK. Can you say TRAFFIC JAM?!?!?<br /><br />Now, if I lived on a 4 lane road, perhaps all that would be acceptable. But I live on a road so narrow that when a car is parked at the curb, 2 cars going in opposite directions can not fit on the road without one of them pulling to the side behind the parked car. Designed on purpose that way to control speed along the roads but is a nightmare in this situation. And how in the world will I get out of my driveway with so much traffic on such small roads?<br /><br />And did I mention I have a 5 year old who will be walking to and from school, and playing and riding her bike RIGHT smack in the middle of all this? (Ok, not in the middle of the road, but you get my point.)<br /><br />The plan is to block of one side of the road and leave the other side for resident parking only. However who is truly going to enforce that? The meeting revealed that So. Jordan City will be issuing citations, however how will they know if that is my car or someone visiting the open house? No answer, not their problem, contact So Jordan City. OK fine, I get that the burden of upholding laws/rules is not left up to the church. So comes the question and a solution to it all, "Why don't you just bus people in from churches , then you could enter in off 40<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">th</span> south (which is not residential and is 3 lanes)?" Here is the kicker, COST. Are you KIDDING ME? COST? REALLY?<br /><br />They have not spared a dime in cost thus far; they will have 6 tents with wooden floors, air conditioning, theaters and seating for 150. They have spent at least 1/2 million on landscaping and I don't even want to guess what the building and furnishings cost, yet they are worried about the cost of buses taking people to the temple from churches near by.<br /><br />To be fair, I have no idea what the cost would be to hire out <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">buses</span> for 13 hours a day for 75 days but I simply can't believe that they are willing to flood up our neighborhood, put our children in danger, cause constant traffic problems and disrupt our lives to save on cost.<br /><br /><br />Cost, really. Cost.<br /><br /><br />I do not blame the church as an entity, nor do I find fault with any of the leadership in the church. I love and respect the people who attend and am pleased there was a committee taking care of all of the details to make sure it will be a pleasant experience (which I am sure it will be for each of the visitors). But I simply can't believe they are willing to tread so heavily on an entire community just to save a few bucks.</span>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-37435730152534781122009-04-06T14:56:00.000-07:002009-04-06T15:18:14.875-07:00What's in a name?Last night we attended a family party, as the adults were inside chatting the children were outside running around. Quite a while into the evening Kylie and her two cousins come in to inform us they have found a new friend. With this statement a little boy walked into the room. Kylie then began stating everything she knew about him.<br /><br />He is 8 years old<br />He is short because he does not eat his vegetables<br />He only likes tomatoes and watermelon<br />He lives across the street<br />He has ghosts in his house<br /><br />I then ask, "What is his name?" All three kids look at the little boy and in unison ask "What is your name?"<br /><br />"My name is A.J." At this time you can see the turmoil in all three kids faces wondering how they were going to handle this dilemma. See, my nephew (who is standing there probably wondering who is going to win out in this situation) has the same name. All eyes are on him.<br /><br />Softly, my nephew says "That's my name too"<br /><br />At this point, the kids all ran outside only to return 5 minutes later with another story about their new found friend. "A.J. 2"<br /><br />In KID world, everyone is happy.Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-27948253947134108102009-03-01T21:19:00.001-08:002009-03-01T21:20:52.270-08:00Life in Laurie LandComplexities for me usually come in the form of an Excel Format or Macro to drum up reporting information in a spreadsheet. I love those types of complexities. Such a form of gratification comes for me when something works the way it is supposed to. I suppose I expect that level of order in my life as well.<br /><br />Lately, order has been too much to ask for, and the worst part is that the lack of order has not even come from choices that I have made.. or has it?<br /><br />People who let craziness in will let it run their life. They are the only ones who can decide when enough is enough. And so it is I who gets to decide how much of their craziness is allowed into my life.<br /><br />Perhaps there is some type of Excel Formula that will help me figure that out.Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-31706358026043630462009-01-26T15:13:00.000-08:002009-01-30T12:04:34.494-08:00Why is racism okay now that we have an African American President?Since Obama won the presidential nomination, I have seen an influx of emails and text messages with racial undertones, overtones, and flat out pure racism. Either I have turned a blind eye for the last 30 years, or this type of thing just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">didn't</span> happen before the elections. Why is it that it is okay to be racist if you don't agree with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">someones</span> political agenda?<br /><br />There is a particular email that I have received from several people now. To some people's defense, I know it was not recognized as a particularly racist email and they simply agreed with the main message and simply forwarded it on. It reads as follows:<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc00;">I work, they pay me. I pay my taxes, and the government distributes my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">taxes as</span> it sees fit. In order to earn that pay check, I work on a rig site for <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Fort</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">McMurray</span> construction project.. At any time I am required to pass a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">random urine</span> test, with which I have no problem. HOWEVER, what I do have a problem with is the distribution of my taxes to people who don't have to pass a urine test. Shouldn't one have to pass a urine test to get a welfare check because I have to pass one to earn it for them? Understand - I have no problem with helping people get back on their feet. I do on the other hand have a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">problem with</span> helping someone sit on their arse, drinking and smoking dope. Could you imagine how much money this country would save if people had to pass a urine test to get a public assistance check? If you agree, please pass this along, or simply delete if you don't. Hope you will pass it along though, because something has to change in this country!<br /><br /><br /><br />(President Obama should implement this, huh? Let's see how many blacks would support him, then.)<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;">Did you catch that? </span><br /><br /><br /><br />To all those I love, we often have different political thoughts and probably always will. I am okay with that and find security knowing that people are allowed to have differences in their political beliefs. Forward me all your political thoughts and those of others, as I love to have my thoughts sparked (or get a good laugh). Do me a favor though and keep your racist propaganda to yourselves. Racism is not a political stance.<br /><br />Throughout my life I have actually chosen to delete people from my life who have displayed hatred for someone based simply on race. After what I have witnessed over the last few months, I find it odd that I missed so many.Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-24228752864883578032009-01-16T12:31:00.000-08:002009-01-16T12:56:23.604-08:00Thank goodness for the little girl in the tennis shoes.Today was pajama day at Ky's school. She gets so excited about pajama day.. I guess I would too, after all, you get to wear your PJ's all day. Well, Ky got some new slippers about a week ago. They are pink with the words "Girls Rock" on them, very cute and she loves them. Well, she was so excited to wear her new slippers to school today and had them on all morning. I made her change out of them into tennis shoes so that she <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">didn't</span> get the slippers dirty outside. I told her she could put them back on at school. <br /><br />Well, we got all the way to school (about 5 miles from home) when Kylie realized she had left her slippers sitting on the chair at home. She immediately burst into tears. I was already late for work and could not return home to get the slippers. I tried to explain this to her but she still cried all the way into school. As we walked down the hall everyone noticed her little red, teary eyed face. I felt like the worst mom in history.<br /><br />Walking into the class room all the little girls had their fluffy princess slippers, their Hanna Montana slippers and even their cheetah looking slippers.. except for one other little girl. Holly happened to be wearing the EXACT same tennis shoes that Kylie was wearing. As I hugged Kylie and told her I loved her and goodbye, I asked her if she was going to be okay today. She said that she would be fine if she could just stand by Holly today, to which her teacher approved. <br /><br />As I drove to work I thanked whatever powers were watching over me today for the little girl wearing the tennis shoes.Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-65679726015607298602008-12-15T15:33:00.000-08:002008-12-15T18:11:42.465-08:00Mint-Day 2008For the last 5 or 6 years, my Grandma, Mom, Aunt, Sister, girl Cousins and myself get together a couple of weeks before Christmas and spend about 8 hours make chocolate mints. Every year we regret not taking better notes the year before and screw up a batch or two. Every year we end up with more wasted chocolate than we did the year before. Every year we gobble up more of that wasted chocolate than we did the year before. And every year, without fail, it snows like crazy on mint day.<br /><br />With so many women and so much craziness in one spot, you would think the men would keep their distance. And they do, with the exception of one; my Dad.<br /><br />Two years ago, he ran around in the treacherous snowy conditions trying to find the perfect stamp so that we could display "Hand Made with Love" on every box of chocolate.<br /><br />Last year, he took specific lunch orders for each woman and again weathered the storm to assure we were all properly nourished.<br /><br />This year, he perfected the ruler used to make the cuts in the chocolate and found some type of gripper thingy to help hold it in place- oh, and he got us lunch again.<br /><br />All the while, he sits there quietly with the ever-so-often witty comment, just being with us.<br /><br />I am not sure if he actually eats any of the chocolates, so his purpose in being there is not to indulge in the sugary snacks. So, why, you ask, would any man put himself in the position to hang around with so many women; taking orders, fixing things and being subjected to women gossip?<br /><br />I think he really just likes us.<br /><br />I am wondering if we would ever successfully get through mint-day without the help of my Dad.<br /><br />Thanks for everything Dad! I love you!Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-85933504682353142622008-11-21T10:59:00.000-08:002008-11-21T11:16:45.297-08:00She's related to her Father.Ky has a favorite day of the week and it happens to be Friday because that is show-and-tell day at school; apparently a very exciting day.<br /><br />She always asks me "Mom, is it Friday today?"<br /><br />I respond with "No, it's Wednesday."<br /><br />She then says, "Will it be Friday tomorrow?"<br /><br />I say, "No, then it will be Thursday."<br /><br />So she gets mad at me and says, "Mom, you never let it be Friday!!"<br /><br />Yes, all things are my fault.<br /><br />Anyway, so we pick out this cute outfit for her to wear on her favorite day: Black dress, red turtle neck and red tights (Yes, the UTES are playing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">BYU</span> this weekend, it's festive). As I am finishing my morning routine of getting ready I tell her to get her show-and-tell, put her coat on and put her shoes on- and we are off. We get to her school and she hops out of the car and all I see are BROWN shoes! UGH!<br /><br />"You really put on brown shoes today?"<br /><br />"Yes, mom."<br /><br />"You are wearing a black dress, why didn't you put on your black shoes?"<br /><br />"Cause I'm wearing a brown coat, that matches my brown shoes Mom."<br /><br />Well, I guess I can't argue with that, sounds like something her father would say. ;D I should pay better attention.Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-5097508873298019112008-11-11T20:53:00.001-08:002008-11-11T21:21:19.718-08:00Tribute...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKcxnK4dOTgXPCaSwoSUD8ERMpAaHDSnmkdLDwMXsp7Oj8FUXBi0hNwNVMZFk73aoufqNgZA2pVg8hR_-w36fQI4V7aPPAX9nMF-OiycqtuZQwbyyAjqStu3XHC4XDy2D8dA7tqVel-k/s1600-h/flagImage2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267634982800082706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKcxnK4dOTgXPCaSwoSUD8ERMpAaHDSnmkdLDwMXsp7Oj8FUXBi0hNwNVMZFk73aoufqNgZA2pVg8hR_-w36fQI4V7aPPAX9nMF-OiycqtuZQwbyyAjqStu3XHC4XDy2D8dA7tqVel-k/s200/flagImage2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This Veterans Day we would like to thank Jerry C P, Kevin L B, Jerry L P, Anthony M, Carlos R, Matt S for their service in the military. And we also want to personally thank all Men and Women who served in our Nations Armed Forces past, present and future. You are truely the meaning of the word Hero. Your dedication to our Country does not go unnoticed.<br /><br />Thank you for your dedication and for keeping us safe!<br /><br />Having a Father who served 25+ years in the Air Force taught me what I know about being a true patriot. Although at times he may not have agreed with the nations direction he looked beyond that and realized that his job was not to complain, bicker or pout about the state of our Country; his job was to dedicate his life to protect the United States of America. Thanks Dad! We Love You!Payne Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15994449158542338056noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-22901627714201214062008-11-04T08:38:00.000-08:002008-11-04T09:07:51.989-08:00Spiders So, aparently it is past time for us to have our house sprayed for spiders.. cause I keep seeing them all over the place. Ugh!<br /><br />As I awoke on Monday I found a shoe next to me. <br /><br />I asked Kylie, "Why am I sleeping with a shoe?"<br /><br />She responds with, "Cause there was a spider on your bed so I was going to kill it." <br /><br />I said. "Well, did you get it?"<br /><br />She says, "No, by the time I got the shoe it had crawled away."<br /><br />A SPIDER was in my BED! A SPIDER is probably still in my BED! My bed is suppose to be my sanctuary, dammit!<br /><br />So then I spent the next 30 minutes in a hot scalding shower trying to kill whatever may be hiding in my hair!Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-76599663728944376442008-10-25T10:47:00.000-07:002008-10-25T11:02:34.717-07:00Yin & YangThey say opposites attract but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">geez</span>, sometimes they are annoying as hell!<br /><br />Dan loves his mornings, I (I'm Laurie, BTW) do not! There are many things I adopted from my parents which I still live by (I know, crazy huh?), sleeping in is one of them. Dan <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">usually</span> makes it a point however to take that away from me, wanting me to tackle the day with him, ugh!<br /><br />Well, today was no exception of me wanting to sleep in. After staying up late to watch a movie, then being up even later with a sick Kylie, I had no intention of getting up before 9:30 this morning. To my surprise, Dan shut the door to the room so the dogs could not bother me and I would not hear the roaring of the TV or music. I thought, wow! perhaps it is because my birthday is in a couple of days, or because he <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">appreciates</span> the fact I took care of the sick little one last night... either way, I was pleased that he cared so much for me to let me sleep. <br /><br />As Dan entered the room I became slightly coherent and asked him how Kylie was doing. He responds with "She is laying right next to you, that is why I shut the door- so the dogs would not wake her." <br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hmm</span>, well I still appreciated being able to sleep in today. Thanks Ky!Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-91784863911662230622008-10-23T14:10:00.000-07:002008-10-23T14:25:21.689-07:00The Joys of Public Transportation<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhafcN1pmGfP_Jz5fgv4K34sBydqEb0HfxfWnjX5YWSmZMXexDYFQj_7uFpwcOk4JpjzQtmOyYCoA3Kgpmsv_5-sYzvt2-eUjQ0h3Gu4JAfqapcpzlwmySX-SUiOTqLklWkH93bCfTouOA/s1600-h/MCIexpress-bus.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260461242470182562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 187px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhafcN1pmGfP_Jz5fgv4K34sBydqEb0HfxfWnjX5YWSmZMXexDYFQj_7uFpwcOk4JpjzQtmOyYCoA3Kgpmsv_5-sYzvt2-eUjQ0h3Gu4JAfqapcpzlwmySX-SUiOTqLklWkH93bCfTouOA/s200/MCIexpress-bus.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I ride public transportation to and from downtown Salt Lake City pretty much each day of the week, riding the Fast Bus is actually quite enjoyable, UTA uses nice coaches to shuffle mostly business people to and from downtown, the stops are limited and the service is quick. Riding the bus it takes about an hour to get from South Jordan to downtown Salt Lake City, driving takes about 40 minutes. I spend 40 hours a month locked in a steel tube traveling down the freeway at 65 MPH, here is what I can and cannot accomplish in 40 hours:<br />- I don't single-handedly release <a href="http://www.liveneutral.org/calculator">1000 lbs of CO2 </a>into our atmosphere<br />- I do catch up on sleep<br />- I don't spend $150.00 in gas.<br />- I do enjoy my coffee in the morning<br />- I don't stop at the gas station to get doughnuts and/or a <a href="http://www.monsterenergy.com/">Monster Energy </a>drink<br />- I do catch up on email<br />- I <strong>should</strong> do my homework<br />- I do read the newspaper <strong>before</strong> I get to work<br />- I don't spend $30.00 a month on maintaining a vehicle.<br />- I do come home not stressed from driving<br />- I <strong>can't</strong> go golfing at a moment's notice<br />- I do get to make faces at other drivers as we fly past them in the carpool lane<br />- I do catch up on reading<br />- I <strong>can't </strong>stop to use the facilities because I drank a pot of coffee right before I left work<br />- I <strong>learned</strong> to empty the bladder before getting on the bus<br />- I can farmer blow on the window and have someone else clean it up <strong>but,</strong> I don't<br />- I don't put 1083 miles on a car in a month<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, there are cons; on public transportation I get to deal with these types of people:<br /><br />- Mr. Talks-To-Air - even with headphones on, you can still hear <strong>his</strong> side of the conversation<br />- Mr. Needs Personal Space - I'll sit in the aisle seat, <strong>just</strong> so no one will sit next to me.<br />- The Mannequin - once I sit down, I'm staring at a fleck of dust in the window till I reach my stop.<br />- The Speed Reader - After I spent untold amounts of money on the <a href="http://www.rocketreader.com/">Rocket Reader</a> program, I am determined to show off my newly found talent: reading my book cover to cover before I get off the bus<br />- The Sleeper - I fall asleep as fast as possible and try to wake up as close to my stop as possible, sometimes missing my stop completely.<br /><br />I fall into the last 2 categories, although I haven't missed my stop yet.<br /><br />Most importantly, 98% of the time, work leaves when the bus does, so I come home relaxed and ready to spend time with Laurie, Kylie and the dogs, this reason alone is reason enough to ride public transportation.Payne Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15994449158542338056noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-64289055147156619332008-10-20T18:21:00.000-07:002008-10-20T18:41:26.549-07:00The 70 pound protector named Kota.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChbm5DILbu_IIvuuS1ujxd1d92Hng8dtH8-7WslSx4WpBDyoACs6wuMlrry94hEbpcB5fnNkAUURWiJDITnDEuci1WBjO82YRNlNIPkwimqU5jSS74Oyw4D3X90AgKp9XY_NH22edP4A/s1600-h/DSCF0477.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259415915493731794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChbm5DILbu_IIvuuS1ujxd1d92Hng8dtH8-7WslSx4WpBDyoACs6wuMlrry94hEbpcB5fnNkAUURWiJDITnDEuci1WBjO82YRNlNIPkwimqU5jSS74Oyw4D3X90AgKp9XY_NH22edP4A/s320/DSCF0477.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>When I was a child my Dad used to put me on top of the refrigerator. It was suppose to freak me out but eventually became play time with Dad.. oh such memories.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So, Dan is having play time with Kylie tonight and in re-living my memories, I tell him to put her on the refrigerator. She screamed at the suggestion but the closer she got to the top of the refrigerator, the harder she laughed.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Once Kylie was up there (still laughing her head off), Kota started to growl. As Dan looked down at Kota's reaction she starts to bark at him. We look at each other like, "Did that really happen?". A couple seconds later Kylie is in Dans arms on her way back up to the top of the refrigerator and sure enough, the hair on Kota's back is on end, tail stuck straight up and she is barking at him again. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We will forever be safe as long as our Kota is there to watch over us. </div><br /><div></div>Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-8006627504235879902008-10-12T21:28:00.000-07:002008-10-12T21:41:14.666-07:00Anyone have about 40 minutes?As 5 year olds do, ours has a unique way of understanding everything perfectly...<br /><br />Kylie joins us in the kitchen to spark up conversation about her new finding of the "clock" in the bathroom.<br /><br />"Hey Mom, you know that clock on the floor in your bathroom?"<br /><br />"Um, yeah."<br /><br />"Well I am forty minutes!"<br /><br />Oh, how would it be to not have to worry about any extra "minutes" you might have?Lar.http://www.blogger.com/profile/04820038179082042457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-288769936713981230.post-633144027283998092008-10-09T19:10:00.000-07:002008-10-09T19:38:23.431-07:00Church + Paper + Crayons = Embarassment<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1sTSIFQfrLuXj_ap0rI3Y_EGu06Q9h2DdDtaZY4ruHOqcrD48PvK2bqILik9hTjbhRqwQiV2RnWZ7uA4wp8TlOkUet1DCDnaLWiWWytOTl2ckoKN-U4zdPWn-nCQhMfxPOzGVbPrahg/s1600-h/2007_12250166.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255348626403100066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV1sTSIFQfrLuXj_ap0rI3Y_EGu06Q9h2DdDtaZY4ruHOqcrD48PvK2bqILik9hTjbhRqwQiV2RnWZ7uA4wp8TlOkUet1DCDnaLWiWWytOTl2ckoKN-U4zdPWn-nCQhMfxPOzGVbPrahg/s200/2007_12250166.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's been approximatly 10 years since I've been to church on my own willingness. Kylie has been asking about it lately so I took her last Sunday, being 5 years old, I brought a pen and paper with me to help entertain her while I took a nap. OK, so I didn't nap...<br /><br />Ahem, while I was paying attention to the pastor, yeah that's it. A couple ushers saw Kylie's interest in coloring so they brought her a few crayons and MORE paper.<br /><br />I glanced down halfway through the service and saw her drawing frantically, she was drawing a person with what looked to me like three legs, trying not to be a dirty minded person, I was a little uncomfortable with the drawing. I leaned down and asked Kylie who she was drawing and she said 'A person'.. Hmm, interesting.. I left it at that, still a little uncomfortable..<br /><br />After service we got home and a proud Kylie showed her picture to Mom. Mom did what I didn't want to do.. Mom says "Why does this person have 3 legs?"<br /><br />Well, lets just say this..<br /><br />- It wasn't a leg.<br /><br /></div>Payne Familyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15994449158542338056noreply@blogger.com2