<?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-3752374099685142144</id><updated>2011-08-12T06:21:34.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rushing Around</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>59</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-6779701075069799104</id><published>2010-11-08T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T19:31:01.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where Have I Been?</title><content type='html'>I looked at the last time I had posted and was amazed that it had been so long since I had written anything about our family.  It seems like I have been doing everything I can to keep my head above water with these three beautiful girls and when I get a spare second in the evenings, all I want to do is sit and relax.  But it makes me sad to know that I haven't shared our family with our friends in so long.  So....let me bring everything up to date.&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn is in kindergarten this year!  Somewhere during the summer, after much prayer by both of us, we decided that God was calling me to homeschool Ashlyn.  There are so many reasons why people decide to homeschool, and we have ours.  But we really felt like this was the best decision for our family right now.  Not sure if that will be the case in years to come, but for now that is what we are doing.  It was very difficult for me especially to say goodbye to the "first day of school" pictures and the ideas in my head of walking away from her first classroom and all the memories that come with sending your child to their first day of kindergarten.  But what I got in return was so much more.  I get to spend everyday with her and teach her everything that she learns.  I get to watch the light go off and see her "get" things.  I am watching my daughter learn to read before my very eyes, watching her learn to do math, and watching her learn daily about God.&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn also started riding her bike without training wheels several weeks ago.  She is so proud of herself and has really enjoyed being outside riding her bike in these last few weeks of good weather.&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn has a beautiful heart for God that amazes us everyday.  She says the most insightful things and makes me so proud to be her mama.  She is the best big sister ever.  She is very much a rule follower and thinks that the rest of the world should be as well (can't imagine where she gets that from).  She likes everything to be just so and has a beautiful naive view of this crazy world.  I love her to pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV_PEsWVI/AAAAAAAAArA/1zO34huJzyE/s1600/P9013120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV_PEsWVI/AAAAAAAAArA/1zO34huJzyE/s320/P9013120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538114711648491858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV9keGcgI/AAAAAAAAAqo/KgKm0QkNZGs/s1600/P9163161.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV9keGcgI/AAAAAAAAAqo/KgKm0QkNZGs/s320/P9163161.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538114683032465922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenley Lael...she is a mess.  She is wonderful and hilarious.  She makes us laugh everyday.  She will be three years old in two weeks.  While Ashlyn is completely into dressing up and pretending to be a princess or a fairy and have tea parties, Kenley isn't concerned if the sun comes up in the mornings.  She could not care any less about dressing up.  She doesn't care about what she wears as long as she gets to where jeans with it.  She is as sneaky as they come and I am constantly having to watch her and keep from laughing while getting on to her.&lt;br /&gt;Kenley started going to preschool two days a week at "Ashlyn's school"  (where Ashlyn went to pre-K).  She absolutely loves it and is learning so much.  It is fun to watch her get to do her own thing and begin to be her own little person apart from Ashlyn.&lt;br /&gt;Kenley (at the age of 2...yes, we are very proud of her) has learned to ride her bike without training wheels.  She is incredible on a bike and it is amazing to watch her on her tiny little bike book it around the neighborhood.  Daddy had to start riding his bike with her to be able to keep up.  The kid wants to ride her bike from the time she rolls out of bed in the morning until she goes to sleep at night.  She is obsessed with riding her bike.  All she wanted to do for her 3rd birthday is ride her bike.  She is very cute.  I love to hear her talk, her voice is so cute.  She has so many words that we don't want to correct because it is just so cute to hear her say them in her little two year old voice.  She is growing so fast and I am savoring these last days of "two" with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtXL9lPhsI/AAAAAAAAArQ/goFeyx5GZoc/s1600/PA253265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtXL9lPhsI/AAAAAAAAArQ/goFeyx5GZoc/s320/PA253265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538116029803103938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV-7pYVzI/AAAAAAAAAq4/f2_MwqjpHeI/s1600/P9013118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV-7pYVzI/AAAAAAAAAq4/f2_MwqjpHeI/s320/P9013118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538114706433660722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby Leighton, or Lay Lay as the girls call her, is 9 months old now and just as sweet as they come.  She has dark hair and beautiful blue eyes.  She has started the phase of separation anxiety and it has definitely made for some longer days with her.  But how I love that baby.  I can remember wanting so badly for this beautiful little girl to be a boy.  I smile now when I think about God knowing what I needed.  I would not change it if I could.  Leighton is so calm and content and sweet.  She is so very much a third baby.  She has no interest in crawling because she has two sisters that wait on her hand and foot.  She loves her mommy and her mommy could just eat her up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtXLh1nx8I/AAAAAAAAArI/IfEc-0c2sCc/s1600/PA223256.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtXLh1nx8I/AAAAAAAAArI/IfEc-0c2sCc/s320/PA223256.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538116022355609538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV-qd278I/AAAAAAAAAqw/AGg915qn3j4/s1600/P9163158.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV-qd278I/AAAAAAAAAqw/AGg915qn3j4/s320/P9163158.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538114701821931458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are all doing well and feeling blessed.  Blessed to be together.  Blessed to be healthy.  Blessed to have a job, a home, a family, each other, a God that loves us and knows His plans for us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-6779701075069799104?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/6779701075069799104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=6779701075069799104' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6779701075069799104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6779701075069799104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2010/11/where-have-i-been.html' title='Where Have I Been?'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/TNtV_PEsWVI/AAAAAAAAArA/1zO34huJzyE/s72-c/P9013120.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-996399130630631153</id><published>2010-04-12T10:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-12T10:58:20.844-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Potty Trained!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S8NchzjYeuI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/917vcZIYnVM/s1600/P3262510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S8NchzjYeuI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/917vcZIYnVM/s320/P3262510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459308909147224802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;At the risk of jinxing myself, I am going to announce that Kenley is potty trained.  This is not to say that she is accident-free, but she tells us every time that she has to go potty now.  She hasn't had an accident in several days and goes tee-tee and poo-poo on the potty all the time now.  She is in panties every day and is doing great.  I must say that it has been a beating to take her back and forth to the restroom in public places with the baby carrier and both girls in tow.  But, it has paid off and now we are done with diapers.  No turning back for us now.  I owe many thanks to Ashlyn for her help in accomplishing this milestone.  Ashlyn has been the one many times that Kenley wants to take her potty and has been a huge help.  It is almost impossible to take a two-year-old potty while nursing (notice I said almost, I have done it when Ashlyn was in school) and Ashlyn has come to my rescue A LOT!  She takes great pride in the responsibility of helping.  But now that Kenley has been wearing panties, she can go all by herself.  Anyway, not much else to say, just proud of my Little Kenley Lael in her growing up just a little more each day.  Since I have decided not to post the "poo-poo-in-the-potty" picture that Daddy took the other day, I have decided to post a picture of Kenley just being her cute self.  Yeah for potty training!  Two girls down, one to go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-996399130630631153?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/996399130630631153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=996399130630631153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/996399130630631153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/996399130630631153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2010/04/potty-trained.html' title='Potty Trained!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S8NchzjYeuI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/917vcZIYnVM/s72-c/P3262510.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-298933274011931882</id><published>2010-03-20T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T11:41:50.674-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Spring Break</title><content type='html'>We have had to do some "staycations" over the past few holidays because of everything going on with the job situation.  So when Spring Break came around, I decided not to let myself get depressed when I heard about all the trips that everyone was going on.  We could have a great time and make memories right at home.  Ken had to work late early in the week so my sister came to stay with us and help me with the craziness that is three little ones for a few days.  She saved my sanity for sure.  I had planned on taking the girls to the zoo on Tuesday, but the weather ended up being kind of nasty so we decided to go to the museum of Nature &amp;amp; Science instead. Turned out, everyone that was planning on going to the zoo, decided to go to the museum instead.  There was a long line just to get in and get tickets.  I heard a sermon several weeks ago that focused on the fact that memories are made in the journey, not the destination.  I kept reminding myself of this while standing in the line.  And it was true!  We had so much fun in the chaos at the museum.  I so enjoyed getting to visit with Jill and being with my sweet girls and just watching them play.  I had Jill to keep me smiling when the meltdowns came over no apparent reason.  It was great.  We took the girls to the IMAX movie about Alaska.  Ashlyn was amazed, I could have just watched the look on her face the whole time.  Kenley was terrified at first and when she finally turned around to watch the movie, it was with her fingers jammed in her ears.  We went to some exhibits after the movie and lunch.  It proved to be a little much for Ashlyn who kept commenting that there were too many people.  She doesn't handle large crowds very well.  The water exhibit was fun for us all though (even though we had to change Kenley's clothes afterwards).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Kenley making a mess at the water exhibit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBgRnvOSI/AAAAAAAAApg/LA9fH80SROY/s1600-h/P3162470.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBgRnvOSI/AAAAAAAAApg/LA9fH80SROY/s320/P3162470.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450764577999370530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ashlyn hamming it up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBgx7K9fI/AAAAAAAAApo/m64c3d4ydm4/s1600-h/P3162473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBgx7K9fI/AAAAAAAAApo/m64c3d4ydm4/s320/P3162473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450764586670814706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ashlyn frustrated with all the people at the bone dig&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UG-RzF33I/AAAAAAAAApw/dUxP3opOCkg/s1600-h/P3162474.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UG-RzF33I/AAAAAAAAApw/dUxP3opOCkg/s320/P3162474.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450770591001206642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenley took some time to have a pedicure....she didn't tell Mommy.  Ashlyn came running into the room and told me that Kenley had painted her toenails.  I was trying to tell her how this is a "no-no" while snapping some pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Pretty pedicure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBd60aL_I/AAAAAAAAApI/RzN-L3lhHXY/s1600-h/P3132453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBd60aL_I/AAAAAAAAApI/RzN-L3lhHXY/s320/P3132453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450764537518764018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather was pretty most days and the girls asked to eat dinner outside.  So we had a little macaroni and cheese picnic one evening and they loved it.  Ashlyn loves to eat outside and have picnics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dining al fresco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UG_dqbwJI/AAAAAAAAAp4/bsU0qlq0Xk4/s1600-h/P3172480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UG_dqbwJI/AAAAAAAAAp4/bsU0qlq0Xk4/s320/P3172480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450770611365986450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Leighton spent most of the week sleeping and growing.  She has done so well going to sleep in her bassinet and going back to sleep after every feeding at night.  She is sleeping for about a 5 hour stretch at night which is good for me at this point.  She continues to be a sweet little baby and is growing so fast.  Ken got to spend some time with her this week on his days off.  They are so cute.  We have people that say she looks just like Ken, some say she looks like me (I think they are just trying to be nice) and some say that she looks just like her Uncle Joe.  I can definitely see that, but I also still think she looks A LOT like Ashlyn.  Whoever she looks like, she is a cutie and I love, love, love that I have this little baby girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sweet Baby Leighton at 7 weeks (almost)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBf0NmzXI/AAAAAAAAApY/sNz1YxxReaw/s1600-h/P3152464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBf0NmzXI/AAAAAAAAApY/sNz1YxxReaw/s320/P3152464.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450764570105138546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Time with Daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBfIKVM0I/AAAAAAAAApQ/wpau9Az98As/s1600-h/P3102435.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBfIKVM0I/AAAAAAAAApQ/wpau9Az98As/s320/P3102435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450764558280241986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday the weather was beautiful so we decided pack a picnic lunch and take the girls out to a park.  I saw a park in Ft. Worth when Jill, the girls, and I headed over to eat dinner with her cousin one night.  It was the coolest park and the girls had a blast.  I didn't get any pictures because my camera battery was dead,  but we will definitely be back and I will have to post pictures.  The park had a huge wooden fort style play area and Ashlyn spent most of the time running around playing by herself.  When we tried to play with her she reminded us over and over that she was working in England and she couldn't be bothered.  She has the most remarkable imagination.  I love it.  Kenley spent most of the time swinging.  And little baby LayLay just chilled out in the Baby Bjorn and slept.  Ken was Superdad and pushed the girls and about 10 other kids on the merry-go-round and taught both girls and about 6 other kids how to climb a giant caterpillar ladder.  I am so blessed to have him as a husband.  He is the best dad I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the weather is nasty again and Ken is back at work.  The girls and I decided to build a fort in her room for them to play in. I told Ashlyn that I can remember doing this with my brothers when I was a little girl.  It is one of the best memories I have of playing with my brothers. She said, "Really?  How do you still remember how to do it?" Very funny, Ashlyn.   So with three chip clips, a bed sheet and one rubberband, we created a clubhouse masterpiece.  It has allowed for hours of pretend play.  It is so sweet to watch Ashlyn and Kenley play together (and get along).  I see more forts in our future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Club Rushing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UHAnhViuI/AAAAAAAAAqA/IBFU4aMVNf8/s1600-h/P3202486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UHAnhViuI/AAAAAAAAAqA/IBFU4aMVNf8/s320/P3202486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450770631192054498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't they look mischievous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UHBr5hioI/AAAAAAAAAqI/1lLHRBm-gYE/s1600-h/P3202489.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UHBr5hioI/AAAAAAAAAqI/1lLHRBm-gYE/s320/P3202489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450770649547115138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So we have had a great Spring Break staying at home and spending time together.  I have learned that when we think we don't have some opportunities, God is providing other opportunities in order to bless us.  This was one of those weeks.  I love my family and was blessed to spend this special week with my sister, my girls, and my sweet husband.&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/3752374099685142144-298933274011931882?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/298933274011931882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=298933274011931882' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/298933274011931882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/298933274011931882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2010/03/best-spring-break.html' title='The Best Spring Break'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S6UBgRnvOSI/AAAAAAAAApg/LA9fH80SROY/s72-c/P3162470.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2911271098967935138</id><published>2010-02-08T18:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T19:31:38.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sweet Leighton-Two Weeks</title><content type='html'>My sweet little Leighton Anne, I simply cannot believe it has been two weeks since your birth. It seems like one day I was counting hours until I could hold you and the next time was flying by as I started my new life as a mother of three. The past two weeks have been crazy for me as I adjust to life as a mother of three and getting to know you.  I feel like I am finally getting a handle on what day it is and what time it is (for the most part).  I have thoroughly enjoyed spending these two weeks at home and just watching you change each day.  Here is a journey in pictures of your first two weeks of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Last picture on January 26th before I went to the hospital&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMpL1OS6I/AAAAAAAAAoI/a0mLjtAB2tY/s1600-h/P1262184.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMpL1OS6I/AAAAAAAAAoI/a0mLjtAB2tY/s320/P1262184.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436069758158916514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Meeting big sister Ashlyn for the first time (with Nana's help)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMqiKSFdI/AAAAAAAAAog/QvpHea1F0pY/s1600-h/P1262225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMqiKSFdI/AAAAAAAAAog/QvpHea1F0pY/s320/P1262225.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436069781332694482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Meeting Kenley Lael (who is still so enamored with you)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMppxSfzI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/ovw0TaGAMRQ/s1600-h/P1262205.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMppxSfzI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/ovw0TaGAMRQ/s320/P1262205.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436069766195478322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tired mommy holding my new baby girl&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMrBBdgOI/AAAAAAAAAoo/_DP55EzvgGs/s1600-h/P1272240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMrBBdgOI/AAAAAAAAAoo/_DP55EzvgGs/s320/P1272240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436069789617193186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Meeting Grandad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMqBmYVrI/AAAAAAAAAoY/6mUxyeYkLms/s1600-h/P1262223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMqBmYVrI/AAAAAAAAAoY/6mUxyeYkLms/s320/P1262223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436069772592174770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spending time with Nana (thanks Nana for taking over the job of rocking)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DQCHwRB4I/AAAAAAAAAo4/Ta2LBtq_rP8/s1600-h/P1312273.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DQCHwRB4I/AAAAAAAAAo4/Ta2LBtq_rP8/s320/P1312273.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436073485095995266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Getting your first bath (notice the look of helplessness on your sisters)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DQBa8t1ZI/AAAAAAAAAow/GlKBdeBeWbw/s1600-h/P1292268.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DQBa8t1ZI/AAAAAAAAAow/GlKBdeBeWbw/s320/P1292268.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436073473068619154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sleeping the day away with your pink blanket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DTNYZyuyI/AAAAAAAAApA/oYb8OOTP2mI/s1600-h/P1292271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DTNYZyuyI/AAAAAAAAApA/oYb8OOTP2mI/s320/P1292271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436076977078582050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was so prepared for the way I feel about you.  After all, I have had two little baby girls before and fallen in love with them.  But when I saw your tiny sweet face, I knew that there was nothing that could have prepared me for the love that I have for you.  I am in awe of how deep my love is for you and has been since I saw you.&lt;br /&gt;Although I am way past the point of exhaustion, I love being with you each day and learning about this sweet little blessing that God has given to me.  In the past two weeks, these are the things that I have learned about you:  You seem to have your mother's sense of urgency and punctuality.  I was only in labor for two hours and God gave you to me on this perfect three hour schedule...quite a change from the other two.  You have the tiniest, sweetest little face with little delicate ears.  You have loved a pacifier from day one (very good for mommy) and it takes up your whole face which is so cute to me.  You loved to be rocked to sleep.  You like to be swaddled so that your body is snug, but both arms are free.  You like your arms free of the swaddle, but you like me to hold both of your hands while you fall asleep. You quietly remind me after three hours when it is time to eat, without much crying.  You are soothed by the sound of Kenley singing "Jesus Loves Me" and Ashlyn excitedly saying, "It's okay! It's okay, LayLay!"  as she flaps her hands wildly in your face.  You like to be held against someone so that you can feel them breathe.  You are already starting to make eye contact instead of the blank newborn stare.  You are perfectly "Rushing" girl with your tiny little head that no hats fit on.  You are perfectly "Rushing" girl with the adoption of your version of the pink blanket.  We wouldn't know what to do without a giant pink blanket to haul around and get filthy.  You are loved more than you can ever imagine.  Welcome to the world, baby girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2911271098967935138?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2911271098967935138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2911271098967935138' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2911271098967935138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2911271098967935138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2010/02/sweet-leighton-two-weeks.html' title='Sweet Leighton-Two Weeks'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/S3DMpL1OS6I/AAAAAAAAAoI/a0mLjtAB2tY/s72-c/P1262184.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-6185869673663674263</id><published>2009-12-14T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T19:36:13.241-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 40th Birthday, Ken!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Blessed By You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've dreaded this day for quite awhile&lt;br /&gt;Though most see only a convincing smile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At forty years old, you look to find&lt;br /&gt;A moment to which, you could rewind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hiking, skiing, climbing, biking&lt;br /&gt;All hobbies you found quite to your liking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An abundance of time and energy plenty&lt;br /&gt;Days of play and a tank with no empty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here you are, no more days of glory&lt;br /&gt;Those times a memory, simply a story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what you see when &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you &lt;/span&gt;look at you&lt;br /&gt;But I want you to see it from my point of view&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see a man who has come so far&lt;br /&gt;Though your journey is not without scars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through battles lost and trials you've come&lt;br /&gt;The ones that count, you've certainly won&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When trials come, you consistently prove&lt;br /&gt;Your character strong, your loyalty true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A servant's heart without any doubt&lt;br /&gt;A willing spirit, there to help out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hour to late, no cause too small&lt;br /&gt;A best friend to me and good friend to all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of all this, with all that I have&lt;br /&gt;My girls are blessed with the very best dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who always make time at the end of the day&lt;br /&gt;For tea, princesses, and make-believe play&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These little girls who today you carry&lt;br /&gt;I can only pray one day will marry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A kind and honest and loving man&lt;br /&gt;That can hold their hearts like Daddy can&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through hard times, we've recently come&lt;br /&gt;I've learned many lessons, here is just one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When times are tough and push come to shove&lt;br /&gt;You do what you must for the ones that you love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you feel different on the inside&lt;br /&gt;But I cannot help but be filled with pride&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Witnessing to others, of the storm we've been through&lt;br /&gt;I tell your story, of all that you do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though you've been humbled and your faith has been tried&lt;br /&gt;You have found a way to always provide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I take this opportunity today&lt;br /&gt;To tell you things I don't often say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a woman who is truly blessed&lt;br /&gt;With a husband who loves me and does possess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fruits of the spirit and a heart that is kind&lt;br /&gt;Things in a man that are difficult to find&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as you look back over forty Decembers&lt;br /&gt;These are some things I hope you remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When life isn't what you want it to be&lt;br /&gt;Please keep in mind, you're the man of my dreams&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Ken.  I am blessed to share my life with you.  Love, Theresa&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-6185869673663674263?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/6185869673663674263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=6185869673663674263' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6185869673663674263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6185869673663674263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/12/happy-40th-birthday-ken.html' title='Happy 40th Birthday, Ken!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2937807992300262627</id><published>2009-10-19T14:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T14:23:51.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall Fest</title><content type='html'>Last night was our Fall Fest at church. Ashlyn was dressed up as the princess from Princess and the Pauper and Kenley was a pirate. This was Ashlyn's first time to have her hair done and wear makeup. She was really excited to get all "girlied up". The girls were able to play games, do a cake walk (which they both won), jump in the bounce house, and go on a hayride. Kenley loved the hayride! Here are the pics of our sweet girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzYaSgqpYI/AAAAAAAAAoA/QIKqZt4yCpc/s1600-h/PA181876.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzYaSgqpYI/AAAAAAAAAoA/QIKqZt4yCpc/s320/PA181876.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394424399840060802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWHgz34jI/AAAAAAAAAn4/HZU6csbrWF8/s1600-h/PA181882.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWHgz34jI/AAAAAAAAAn4/HZU6csbrWF8/s320/PA181882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394421878237946418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWG30ez4I/AAAAAAAAAnw/XgIFYMjU74I/s1600-h/PA181885.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWG30ez4I/AAAAAAAAAnw/XgIFYMjU74I/s320/PA181885.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394421867234643842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWGazTwBI/AAAAAAAAAno/OXS2L9nWYuk/s1600-h/PA181886.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWGazTwBI/AAAAAAAAAno/OXS2L9nWYuk/s320/PA181886.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394421859445096466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWF5TDxqI/AAAAAAAAAng/xddns8GhyNE/s1600-h/PA181889.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWF5TDxqI/AAAAAAAAAng/xddns8GhyNE/s320/PA181889.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394421850451461794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWFI77KSI/AAAAAAAAAnY/DWkHMH8hEZU/s1600-h/PA181903.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzWFI77KSI/AAAAAAAAAnY/DWkHMH8hEZU/s320/PA181903.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394421837469526306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2937807992300262627?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2937807992300262627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2937807992300262627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2937807992300262627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2937807992300262627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/10/fall-fest.html' title='Fall Fest'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzYaSgqpYI/AAAAAAAAAoA/QIKqZt4yCpc/s72-c/PA181876.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-1385355526815596889</id><published>2009-10-19T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T14:05:50.336-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumpkin Patch</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRJC01MUI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/zlXsopT4OMU/s1600-h/PA121801.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a break in the rain last week and decided to take the girls to a pumpkin patch that Shelly told us about. At the last minute, Ashlyn's friend decided that he would join us on our little trip. The ground was still super wet and yucky, but we still had a blast. Great free family fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake and Ashlyn in the pumpkin house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRJC01MUI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/zlXsopT4OMU/s1600-h/PA121801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRJC01MUI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/zlXsopT4OMU/s320/PA121801.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394416406990500162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenley pulling the wagon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRIcViV1I/AAAAAAAAAnI/NyqnC34STzY/s1600-h/PA121804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRIcViV1I/AAAAAAAAAnI/NyqnC34STzY/s320/PA121804.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394416396658693970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Playing on the haystack&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRHs-U9KI/AAAAAAAAAnA/mcxRwcTak00/s1600-h/PA121809.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRHs-U9KI/AAAAAAAAAnA/mcxRwcTak00/s320/PA121809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394416383944881314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sweet Ashlyn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPpifyRSI/AAAAAAAAAm4/Ic-BTLi_Hs8/s1600-h/PA121818.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPpifyRSI/AAAAAAAAAm4/Ic-BTLi_Hs8/s320/PA121818.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394414766224721186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Witch Ashlyn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPpP6mX1I/AAAAAAAAAmw/YI2Km5_gNK4/s1600-h/PA121823.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPpP6mX1I/AAAAAAAAAmw/YI2Km5_gNK4/s320/PA121823.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394414761236914002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Witch Kenley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPoaG5zUI/AAAAAAAAAmo/FH_XXJLBQbY/s1600-h/PA121826.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPoaG5zUI/AAAAAAAAAmo/FH_XXJLBQbY/s320/PA121826.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394414746793004354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Scarecrow Daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPn49LxeI/AAAAAAAAAmg/S4KaxeeKwjM/s1600-h/PA121827.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPn49LxeI/AAAAAAAAAmg/S4KaxeeKwjM/s320/PA121827.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394414737893869026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mommy and Kenley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPnDncxFI/AAAAAAAAAmY/s0OwiINmEOw/s1600-h/PA121831.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzPnDncxFI/AAAAAAAAAmY/s0OwiINmEOw/s320/PA121831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394414723575628882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn with Ariel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNkUOkmzI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/Uytt_RX9xh8/s1600-h/PA121839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNkUOkmzI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/Uytt_RX9xh8/s320/PA121839.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394412477471824690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn in the hay maze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNjroXbPI/AAAAAAAAAmI/9oagDtgc49M/s1600-h/PA121849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNjroXbPI/AAAAAAAAAmI/9oagDtgc49M/s320/PA121849.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394412466574159090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Cheese!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNjNCmhxI/AAAAAAAAAmA/K72tT1sTJzk/s1600-h/PA121852.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNjNCmhxI/AAAAAAAAAmA/K72tT1sTJzk/s320/PA121852.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394412458362701586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNiVj6izI/AAAAAAAAAl4/pwrhaxVOt2Q/s1600-h/PA121853.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNiVj6izI/AAAAAAAAAl4/pwrhaxVOt2Q/s320/PA121853.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394412443470039858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not too excited about this picture&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNhwB714I/AAAAAAAAAlw/ZE2LE7pt4W0/s1600-h/PA121866.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzNhwB714I/AAAAAAAAAlw/ZE2LE7pt4W0/s320/PA121866.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394412433395406722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-1385355526815596889?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/1385355526815596889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=1385355526815596889' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1385355526815596889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1385355526815596889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/10/pumpkin-patch.html' title='Pumpkin Patch'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/StzRJC01MUI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/zlXsopT4OMU/s72-c/PA121801.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-3330684942286091560</id><published>2009-10-08T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-08T18:48:42.823-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sweetest Thing</title><content type='html'>There are moments in the lives of my girls that I never want to forget.  I wish I could bottle their voices and these moments and hold them with me forever.  I had one of those moments today with Ashlyn.  Here is the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you know that I clip coupons.  Every Saturday I get an early edition Sunday paper and clip coupons for grocery shopping on Sunday.  There have been several times that Ashlyn wants to help me clip coupons so she gets her scissors and cuts up all of the ads that I am finished with.  It is very cute to watch her "help" me.  She has asked me before why I clip coupons, to which I answer, "It helps Mommy and Daddy save money on groceries because it makes the groceries cheaper."  That is the first part of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you also know that Ashlyn LOVES to dance.  The kid dances and sings to everything.  She is constantly dressing up and pretending that she is a ballerina and shows everyone how she can dance on her tippy toes just like a real ballerina.  That is the second part of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of you know that Ken has been looking for a job for several months now.  Times have been a little difficult around here lately and we have had to tighten up the budget quite a bit in order to get through this storm of being without income.  I had wanted to put Ashlyn in a dance class this year, but because of our situation, we decided that we would wait.  So she has held her own "dance class" upstairs almost every single night in her playroom.  After her bath, she goes into the playroom and plays the "Music Box Dance" demo on her keyboard and twirls around the room.  She regularly insists that she can't go to bed until she has her dance class.  It is quite difficult to tell her no.  That is the third part of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the last part of the story that melts my heart.  Ashlyn came home from school today with her folder in her backpack just like every other day.  And just like every other day, I took her folder out to see the things that she  made and what she learned about at school.  But today I found this tucked in her folder in between her other paperwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Ss6TwfYRIGI/AAAAAAAAAlo/H7F8i-t-sGg/s1600-h/PA081778.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Ss6TwfYRIGI/AAAAAAAAAlo/H7F8i-t-sGg/s320/PA081778.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390408265275351138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked her what it was and her reply was, "Oh! That is my coupon that I clipped today at school!  I brought it home for you so that you could use it and I can take ballet class!"  The excitement in her little voice was uncontainable.  Apparently, while she was cutting things out of a magazine for another project, she spotted this and saw it as an opportunity to save our family money. She was clearly so proud that she had found and clipped this "coupon" by herself.  I just wanted to melt when she told me about it. &lt;br /&gt;Well, Daddy has another first interview with a company tomorrow afternoon.  We are praying that God will provide him with something soon and that it will be obvious to us the direction that He wants us to go.  So tonight, before Ashlyn's prayers, I told her that as soon as Daddy gets a job, we will sign her up for a ballet class.  She showed me again how she can already dance on her tippy toes just like a real ballerina.  Her innocence makes me smile.  Her joy for life makes me want to be more joyful.  Her sweet heart melts mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-3330684942286091560?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/3330684942286091560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=3330684942286091560' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3330684942286091560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3330684942286091560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/10/sweetest-thing.html' title='The Sweetest Thing'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Ss6TwfYRIGI/AAAAAAAAAlo/H7F8i-t-sGg/s72-c/PA081778.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7317556859319424072</id><published>2009-09-11T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T17:27:30.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashlyn's Build-A-Bear Date</title><content type='html'>As most of you know, Ashlyn started using a Thumb Guard to quit sucking her thumb on July 15th. About a week after starting it, I told her that if she could make it through all 60 wristbands, that we would take her to Build-A-Bear and let her make a special bear for a reward. Ever since then she has talked about going to "Builder Bear" almost every day. She has not sucked her thumb since the day after we started using the Thumb Guard. So we told her that today was her special day to go on a date by herself with Mommy and Daddy.  We gave her a choice of where to go eat lunch, she chose CiCi's Pizza because they had dessert.  Fine with me, it was cheap.  Then we were off to shop.  I had told Ashlyn that she could go to the Princess Store (Disney) and pick something special out as well.  I know, she got a lot of stuff today, but I am a proud Mama and I wanted to make this a big deal for her and let her know how proud of her I am.  Here she is with her selection from the Princess Store, Beauty and The Beast dolls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNyTtFcwI/AAAAAAAAAlY/kXq7OQU4-dQ/s1600-h/P9111697.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNyTtFcwI/AAAAAAAAAlY/kXq7OQU4-dQ/s320/P9111697.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380338969014006530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn headed directly to Build-A-Bear after getting her dolls.  She has never been to Build-A-Bear before so she was so excited and it was so neat to see her get to pick stuff out.  I do have to say that she picked her bear out within seconds.  Ken and I tried (I know we should just let her get whatever she wants) to talk her out of her first choice for more than 5 minutes.  "Ashlyn, don't you want a brown or black bear, or a cute little bunny?  And then we can just put a pink outfit on it.  Won't that be cute?" we persuaded.  But when you are Ashlyn Rushing, no brown or black stuffed animal will do.  They are not girly enough.  Nothing will do but the Tie-dyed pink and yellow bear.  There was no convincing her.  She wouldn't hear a word of our pleading.  Oh well.  Here she is with her bear before getting stuffed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNxnOBeRI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/UZ_IrX5LL-8/s1600-h/P9111699.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNxnOBeRI/AAAAAAAAAlQ/UZ_IrX5LL-8/s320/P9111699.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380338957072562450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Daddy and Ashlyn are making sure that the bear is filled properly and making sure that she is huggable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNxJcj2HI/AAAAAAAAAlI/sd6BGpKgaqU/s1600-h/P9111701.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNxJcj2HI/AAAAAAAAAlI/sd6BGpKgaqU/s320/P9111701.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380338949080471666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After the stuffing, Ashlyn got to pick out a heart to place inside of the bear.  She gave the heart a kiss and made a wish.  Then put it inside of bear's body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNwjeUjuI/AAAAAAAAAlA/E4UhsRnA6sA/s1600-h/P9111702.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNwjeUjuI/AAAAAAAAAlA/E4UhsRnA6sA/s320/P9111702.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380338938887311074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn named her bear Lucy.  This is the name that she wanted to name our new baby, but it was vetoed.  So she was able to name her new baby Lucy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNvlauLbI/AAAAAAAAAk4/cFkAX5KpRZs/s1600-h/P9111708.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNvlauLbI/AAAAAAAAAk4/cFkAX5KpRZs/s320/P9111708.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380338922229214642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After getting a bath, we all went to pick an outfit for Lucy.  Again, Mommy tried convince Ashlyn of the practicality of the outfit.  "Ashlyn, a pink shirt is a great idea, but we should probably get some little blue jean shorts or skirt to go with it.  And then you could get these cute little pink shoes to go with it."  Nope.  Wasn't happening.  Lucy had to have the shiniest dress, with the most sequins on it.  And Lucy couldn't wear that dress without patent leather silver shoes, right?  And if she is going to have all that, she needs to have a tiara and a wand.  There, now Lucy was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrpdMUkurI/AAAAAAAAAlg/OVHqP-OBoOs/s1600-h/P9111735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrpdMUkurI/AAAAAAAAAlg/OVHqP-OBoOs/s320/P9111735.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380369392580475570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mommy and Ashlyn then had to go decide if Lucy needed bows in her hair as well as a tiara.  We decided against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLXoqCJ_I/AAAAAAAAAkw/XQRYfWthh30/s1600-h/P9111710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLXoqCJ_I/AAAAAAAAAkw/XQRYfWthh30/s320/P9111710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380336311758628850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn and Mommy with Lucy after she was complete.  She was sooo excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLW-LeBQI/AAAAAAAAAko/qD6AMzDRf-0/s1600-h/P9111717.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLW-LeBQI/AAAAAAAAAko/qD6AMzDRf-0/s320/P9111717.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380336300356142338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we had to go to the computers and make Lucy and birth certificate.  So cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLWXb-PUI/AAAAAAAAAkg/o3BMqaWRdBQ/s1600-h/P9111719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLWXb-PUI/AAAAAAAAAkg/o3BMqaWRdBQ/s320/P9111719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380336289956379970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A sweet kiss from my sweet girl. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLVg_3GZI/AAAAAAAAAkY/r9E2EiesFwc/s1600-h/P9111730.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLVg_3GZI/AAAAAAAAAkY/r9E2EiesFwc/s320/P9111730.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380336275342956946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn with Mommy after we finished.  I cannot tell you how proud of this girl I am.  I sucked my thumb until I was twelve, so I know how hard it is to quit.  She never complained...not once.  She truly wanted to quit.  Ashlyn, you are our big girl and we love you so much! Congratulations on earning your "Builder Bear"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLVLo5s9I/AAAAAAAAAkQ/Gxukon37NrI/s1600-h/P9111732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrLVLo5s9I/AAAAAAAAAkQ/Gxukon37NrI/s320/P9111732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380336269609513938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7317556859319424072?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7317556859319424072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7317556859319424072' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7317556859319424072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7317556859319424072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/09/ashlyns-build-bear-date.html' title='Ashlyn&apos;s Build-A-Bear Date'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqrNyTtFcwI/AAAAAAAAAlY/kXq7OQU4-dQ/s72-c/P9111697.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-1302065917337192250</id><published>2009-09-08T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T19:02:36.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Over It and Thinking Pink!</title><content type='html'>I wanted to post this blog as an update for all of the sweet people who have asked me how I have been doing since I found out that baby #3 is a girl.  Thank you all so much for your sweet words during my moment of self-pity.  I have had several people that have made comments (some of whom are having trouble even getting pregnant) on the God's Plan is Perfect blog and even more that have just read it and asked me if I am doing better.  The answer to that question is a resounding "Yes!"  I did take my day to be a little sad that (aside from a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; changed heart) that there would be no more babies, therefore no boys in our home.  I have had dreams of cute little blue outfits and toys that aren't pink or purple and just a little stinky boy to mix things up in the Rushing house.  But God saw fit for us to have three girls.  So I said my goodbyes to those dreams.  And now, less than a week out from finding out that this little one is a she, I can almost not imagine her being a boy.  I can now envision our family with three little girls (probably none of whom will look like there mother) running around our house.  I think it will be great.  Lord willing, I will help three girls with their first makeup, help them through their first broken hearts and get three beautiful girls ready for prom and eventually ready for their wedding.  How awesome is that!  Anyway, thank you for all of your sweet comments and thank you for being patient with me. I want you all to know that I do feel that God has truly blessed me to have a hand (or tummy) in creating this beautiful new life.  Any ideas on the names, send them my way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-1302065917337192250?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/1302065917337192250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=1302065917337192250' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1302065917337192250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1302065917337192250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/09/over-it-and-thinking-pink.html' title='Over It and Thinking Pink!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-6257559884083698404</id><published>2009-09-08T18:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T18:48:48.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashlyn's First Day of Pre-K</title><content type='html'>Ashlyn has been looking forward to starting Pre-K this year for quite some time.  Partly because it brings her one year closer to going to kindergarten which she talks about a lot already.  Partly because most of her friends start at least a week earlier than she does and she loses playmates for the end of her summer.  So today was her big day.  She was very excited that she had a clean dress to wear on her first day.  Pretty much all she was concerned about this morning was that she got to wear her "seashell dress" and that she had a drinkable yogurt packed in her lunch.  So after that was taken care of, we slapped on the forbidden after-labor-day white sandals and off we went.  She was very helpful carrying in her own backpack and nap mat today.  She couldn't wait to get into her classroom.  Hugs and kisses to Mommy and Daddy and off she went.  I picked her up today and she said she had a great day except for one little girl that was mean to her.  I asked her what happened and this is what she said. "______ was mean to me at school today, Mommy. She told me to come sit down so I did.  But then she looked at me and said, 'I didn't tell YOU to come sit down, I asked ________ to come sit down!'  So I got up and then she turned to ________ and said, 'C'mon, ________, let's go play somewhere else. So I had to go find another friend to play with."  My heart wanted to break when she told me this story.  It is just one of many struggles and days of hurt feelings that she will face in school and in the real world, I know.  But no one ever wants their child to suffer.  It is so hard not to tell her to get _______ by herself and tie her shoelaces together.  But I know that God wants her to treat others kindly.  So I just told her that I was so sorry that she got treated that way and Daddy reminded her tonight that we are always kind to people, even when we don't know them.  Our little bug is growing so big and I love every day with her.  Here are the pictures of her before school today...one by herself and one with a certain little sister that wanted her picture taken with "Ashyn".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  We are three days from finishing the wristbands with the Thumb-Guard.  Stay tuned later this week for the special Build-A-Bear date with Ashlyn, Mommy and Daddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqcGJUrfmKI/AAAAAAAAAkA/y5VzklzuKcc/s1600-h/P9081683.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqcGJUrfmKI/AAAAAAAAAkA/y5VzklzuKcc/s320/P9081683.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379275037157071010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqcJUeZBNyI/AAAAAAAAAkI/-c4bgSLKL8U/s1600-h/P9081687.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqcJUeZBNyI/AAAAAAAAAkI/-c4bgSLKL8U/s320/P9081687.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379278527277381410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-6257559884083698404?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/6257559884083698404/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=6257559884083698404' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6257559884083698404'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6257559884083698404'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/09/ashlyns-first-day-of-pre-k.html' title='Ashlyn&apos;s First Day of Pre-K'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SqcGJUrfmKI/AAAAAAAAAkA/y5VzklzuKcc/s72-c/P9081683.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-3967985877944722522</id><published>2009-09-02T12:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T12:39:03.765-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Plan is Perfect</title><content type='html'>Today was the day of our big ultrasound for our little baby. It is a day that I have been looking forward to since the day that I have found out I was pregnant. I wanted to know so badly if this tiny person was a boy or a girl. I even went so far as to buy the Intelligender test to give me a little hint. Every single person close to me was convinced that this was a little boy and I have to say that with how differently I felt from day one, I was pretty sure myself. So, today when we were told that the ultrasound tech (who has been doing this for 20 years) is 95% sure that this is a little baby girl, it was a little difficult for me to take. I struggle with what to write because some of this sadness that I am having is just a frustration with myself for being even a little disappointed after looking at these sweet pictures. But it is a little sad to say goodbye to little boyish outfits, cars and trucks for toys, and maybe having a little football player in later years. It is difficult for me to process that my sweet husband who is such a perfect daddy to our girls will probably never have a little sidekick to go do boy things with. With all that being said, I know that God's plan is perfect for our lives. God gave us a third little girl because he knows what is best for our family. God knows that we are better suited to have three girls. And apparently He thinks we can afford three weddings :) So I will take today to be a little sad. Although I don't want to feel this way, I cannot help my feelings. I will start thinking of sweet names and picturing her sweet face and tomorrow will be better.&lt;br /&gt;I will be having another ultrasound in four weeks because little one is measuring about 11 days small and the tech was having trouble getting several pictures of the heart and face that she needed to. I cannot wait to see my little girl in a few weeks and I will post more pictures. But for now, here are the pictures of our sweet baby girl. Thank you, God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sp7JM8A2UaI/AAAAAAAAAjo/QuYg6RMqUvI/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sp7JM8A2UaI/AAAAAAAAAjo/QuYg6RMqUvI/s320/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376956229232251298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sp7JNaxK-sI/AAAAAAAAAjw/Wik-cxSx3_E/s1600-h/scan0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sp7JNaxK-sI/AAAAAAAAAjw/Wik-cxSx3_E/s320/scan0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376956237487995586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-3967985877944722522?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/3967985877944722522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=3967985877944722522' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3967985877944722522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3967985877944722522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/09/gods-plan-is-perfect.html' title='God&apos;s Plan is Perfect'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sp7JM8A2UaI/AAAAAAAAAjo/QuYg6RMqUvI/s72-c/scan0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7995145353092355769</id><published>2009-07-23T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T07:54:42.170-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thumb Guard-One Week!</title><content type='html'>Last night completed Ashlyn's first week with the thumb guard.  She still likes to put it on and enjoys picking out her color of the wristband each night.  She also gets to cut the excess band off with her scissors which she thinks is very cool.  She has moved from sleeping in our bed (she did that for three nights) to sleeping in her own bed.  It still takes her 30 minutes to an hour to fall asleep, but she is doing great!  She hasn't sucked her thumb in a week.  Movie time (which is almost daily right now because mommy still needs naps) is done without a thumb guard and without thumb sucking!  Woo hoo!  I told Ashlyn that after she made it through all 60 wristbands that I would take her to Build-A-Bear and she could get a bear.  She is very excited abut that.  I think she will be over it before we get through all the wristbands, but it won't hurt to make sure.  I am so proud of her.  I have to say that from my experience the thumb guard is great product!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7995145353092355769?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7995145353092355769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7995145353092355769' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7995145353092355769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7995145353092355769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/07/thumb-guard-one-week.html' title='Thumb Guard-One Week!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-1117560344969530471</id><published>2009-07-21T19:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T10:42:34.597-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashlyn's Purchase</title><content type='html'>Ashlyn and I went out to run some errands today and just have some time for me and her.  While we were getting ready she asked me if she could buy something with her own money.  She has never asked me this before.  She has money in her piggy bank that she has been collecting over the years.  So today she wanted to spend it.  So we went up to the room and took $6 out and put it in her little purse.  She was so excited.  I am sure that all of you who are mothers can remember this experience.  Ashlyn wanted to buy EVERYTHING she saw.  I had to explain to her that some things were too expensive for what she had and some things she just couldn't have.  Then she wanted to buy Kenley a new outfit.  That was sweet.  We finally made it to the Dollar Tree where she picked out a pack of headbands and two foam swords for her and Kenley to play with.  She was so proud to take her purchase up to the counter.  She even counted out her own money and gave it to the clerk.  It was so neat to watch her doing this very grown up thing.  After we left, she wanted to buy me lunch at Chic Fil A.  Very sweet.  I explained to her that it is not her job to pay for food yet.  I have been meaning to sit down and make a chore list for her so that we can start teaching her how to give, save and spend her own money.  I guess I will get on that today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-1117560344969530471?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/1117560344969530471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=1117560344969530471' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1117560344969530471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1117560344969530471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/07/ashlyns-purchase.html' title='Ashlyn&apos;s Purchase'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-1122426635575022461</id><published>2009-07-15T13:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T13:51:08.549-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thumb Guard-Night One</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sl5Aqrb4KtI/AAAAAAAAAjg/fBRmAUP0EeA/s1600-h/P7141591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sl5Aqrb4KtI/AAAAAAAAAjg/fBRmAUP0EeA/s320/P7141591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358791708575804114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ashlyn has been getting worse about sucking her thumb again.  I think most of the problem is that she is inside a lot and watching more movies this summer since mommy is so tired and when she watches the movies, she tends to suck her thumb.  Well, I don't want it to get any worse, especially since the idea was to have her completely stop when she turned four.  So we decided to buy her a thumb guard to help her quit.  She really does want to quit.  She has asked for medicine to put on her thumb and even wants to sleep with bandaids on so that she won't suck her thumb.  But those haven't seemed to work, so we thought we would try this.  Last night she got to sleep in mommy and daddy's bed for her first night with it.  I thought that she would be waking up several times crying because she couldn't soothe herself back to sleep.  But she actually did really well.  She was very proud of herself for making it through her first night.  I will try and keep posting blogs about how her progress is with it.  I think it supposed to take 3 weeks or so.  We will see how she does.  I thought I would also post a sweet picture of Ashlyn the very first time she found her thumb.  I remember being so sad that day and having a hard time with it.  (For those of you that don't know, I sucked my thumb for a long time.)  But now it is almost bittersweet for her to be stopping.  Just one more step in her growing up.  My sweet little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sl5AGHi1xYI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/6mS1Ji9i5NE/s1600-h/DSC00766.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sl5AGHi1xYI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/6mS1Ji9i5NE/s320/DSC00766.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358791080466040194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-1122426635575022461?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/1122426635575022461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=1122426635575022461' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1122426635575022461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1122426635575022461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/07/thumb-guard-night-one.html' title='Thumb Guard-Night One'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sl5Aqrb4KtI/AAAAAAAAAjg/fBRmAUP0EeA/s72-c/P7141591.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-5199712794345342410</id><published>2009-07-08T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T09:26:57.048-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Intelligender Results!</title><content type='html'>I have been waiting (im)patiently for several weeks to be able to take the Intelligender gender prediction test. This is a test that I have heard that other people have taken and it has been correct. So I thought it would be fun to see what it said for us. It is supposed to be 82% accurate at 10 weeks. It took everything in me, but I waited to take it until this morning (I am about 10 1/2 weeks). So anyway, if the test turns dark green, it is a boy result and a dark yellow/orange result is a girl. Here are the pictures of my results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SlTH9zlYlaI/AAAAAAAAAjI/2ed9f2CtQPI/s1600-h/P7081576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SlTH9zlYlaI/AAAAAAAAAjI/2ed9f2CtQPI/s320/P7081576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356125721483318690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SlTH9ba174I/AAAAAAAAAjA/ah3sR3M0ho8/s1600-h/P7081575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SlTH9ba174I/AAAAAAAAAjA/ah3sR3M0ho8/s320/P7081575.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356125714996653954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The color below the sticker should match the sticker.  Clearly it does not match the orange girl sticker, but looks exactly like the green boy sticker!  Woo hoo!  We still have two months to find out if it is correct, but I have felt for awhile that this is a little boy because I feel quite different.  So we aren't for sure, but it is exciting to think that we may have a little boy on the way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-5199712794345342410?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/5199712794345342410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=5199712794345342410' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5199712794345342410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5199712794345342410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/07/intelligender-results.html' title='Intelligender Results!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SlTH9zlYlaI/AAAAAAAAAjI/2ed9f2CtQPI/s72-c/P7081576.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-5134442801671434457</id><published>2009-07-01T12:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T12:33:26.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Four Years and Eighteen Months (sort of)</title><content type='html'>I finally got around to getting pictures of the girls taken today. Ashlyn's four year pics and Kenley's 18 month pics even though she is well into the nineteenth month. You do what you can, right? I didn't get Ashlyn's one year pictures taken until she was 16 months old. Anyway, enough about that. Having portraits done is always quite an experience for me. I take the time to make the appointment (because that means that I will be seen when I get there) and I get all the clothes ironed the night before, get the girls to bed on time (because that means that they will be agreeable the next day), make extra time to fix their wispy blonde hair (some moms feel my pain there) and then off to the portrait studio (just a few minutes early to account for any unplanned traffic-always have to be on time). Accept that this morning inevitably, So-and-So didn't show up to work, so you will just have to wait a short while Mrs. Rushing while we get these other people in front of you. And oh by the way, we here at Superstar Portrait Studio book appointments every ten minutes even though they take well over an hour. Thanks for your patience Mrs. Rushing! So we finally get started. Let me just tell you about my two sweet girls that are my precious angels and gifts from God. They are awesome. Ashlyn thinks she is a movie star and feels the need to pose for every single picture. The word candid is lost on her. She is hilarious. I was frustrated at the time, but now that I am home looking at the pictures, her little posed shots are my favorite because that is just who she is. She wanted her pictures taken in her "red and white stripey dress" because that is what she wants to wear everyday (not kidding). Anyway, she is our sweet little bug. Kenley on the other hand hates to have her picture taken. It is like getting blood out of a turnip to get this baby to smile for someone other than family. When I put her on the background to get the pictures, one would have thought that I had left her on the nearest street corner to fend for herself and left. It is quite pathetic. In the end, we got some cute pictures of what both of their personalities are like at this point in their lives. I love these little girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5agLMANI/AAAAAAAAAi4/dB8FkfICKh4/s1600-h/0062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5agLMANI/AAAAAAAAAi4/dB8FkfICKh4/s320/0062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353576447024562386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5Tp3vIvI/AAAAAAAAAiw/a3isI8ZykZM/s1600-h/0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5Tp3vIvI/AAAAAAAAAiw/a3isI8ZykZM/s320/0033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353576329368249074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5TMTJ0HI/AAAAAAAAAio/OGKEFSG91lI/s1600-h/0027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5TMTJ0HI/AAAAAAAAAio/OGKEFSG91lI/s320/0027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353576321430179954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5SqxnRAI/AAAAAAAAAig/U5qcV0_UxQ0/s1600-h/0023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5SqxnRAI/AAAAAAAAAig/U5qcV0_UxQ0/s320/0023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353576312431133698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5SC5KKVI/AAAAAAAAAiY/I-JrglLz7U4/s1600-h/0020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5SC5KKVI/AAAAAAAAAiY/I-JrglLz7U4/s320/0020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353576301725362514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5R3uu8YI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/lOpDk0WOgWE/s1600-h/0014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5R3uu8YI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/lOpDk0WOgWE/s320/0014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353576298728845698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-5134442801671434457?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/5134442801671434457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=5134442801671434457' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5134442801671434457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5134442801671434457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/07/four-years-and-eighteen-months-sort-of.html' title='Four Years and Eighteen Months (sort of)'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/Sku5agLMANI/AAAAAAAAAi4/dB8FkfICKh4/s72-c/0062.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-5074729922774114159</id><published>2009-06-28T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T16:24:15.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Showing At 9 Weeks</title><content type='html'>I know that every pregnancy is different and with every pregnancy your abdominal muscles get weaker and weaker, but I have to say that I was not prepared for how early I would be showing this time around.  I have already started to show and in the past two days, I have noticed that I am already starting to feel ligaments pulling...what is up with that?!  That didn't happen until closer to 18 weeks with both girls.  Oh well.  Other than being totally exhausted (and now showing) I would never know that I am pregnant.  I have not felt sick even once and I love that part of it.  But I feel like I could sleep at any time...and for a long time.  I can't wait to take the Intelligender test in a few weeks to see if it tells me this is a little boy or girl.  I have been having the baby boy fever lately.  It seems like I think about it constantly.  I know I can't do anything about it, but I wanted to prepare my heart if this is a little girl.  Shelly told me yesterday that she didn't realize I wanted a boy that bad.  I said, "I didn't either!"  I asked Ken last night if he would be disappointed if it was a girl.  My sweet husbands reply was, "No. Not at all.  I am not sure I want a boy.  I know my girls.  And I love them."  I thought that was the sweetest thing and it really helped me to be okay with whatever God gives us.  I was looking at the girls walking into church this morning and I thought to myself that we would be just fine with another girl.  She would fit just perfectly.  Either way, I will have a hint in a few weeks when I take this test that is supposed to be over 80% accurate.  Can't wait!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-5074729922774114159?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/5074729922774114159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=5074729922774114159' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5074729922774114159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5074729922774114159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/06/showing-at-9-weeks.html' title='Showing At 9 Weeks'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4962946824667738203</id><published>2009-06-20T06:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T09:00:27.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And Baby Makes Five!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SjzrGvCPrKI/AAAAAAAAAiI/iMix_nqnrhk/s1600-h/Peanut+6-19-09.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 209px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SjzrGvCPrKI/AAAAAAAAAiI/iMix_nqnrhk/s320/Peanut+6-19-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349408958346931362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We recently found out that we will be adding a fifth member to the Rushing family.  I am almost 8 weeks pregnant so we are expecting baby Rushing to make his/her arrival around the end of January or beginning of February.  I have been waiting anxiously to make sure that we had a heartbeat and to get pictures of the baby to post it on the blog and tell everyone.  One would think that I would remember after the previous two babies that the first ultrasound pictures reveal nothing more than a small peanut-shaped object inside of a black hole.  What I also forgot is that how much seeing that small peanut-shaped object and watching its tiny little heart beating would melt my heart.  We are so excited to welcome the new baby to our family and hopefully I will be able to make the time to keep everyone posted about the happenings with baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4962946824667738203?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4962946824667738203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4962946824667738203' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4962946824667738203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4962946824667738203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/06/and-baby-makes-five.html' title='And Baby Makes Five!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SjzrGvCPrKI/AAAAAAAAAiI/iMix_nqnrhk/s72-c/Peanut+6-19-09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4841546061351798234</id><published>2009-06-11T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T18:47:47.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Love You, Julia!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SjGzqPbtYiI/AAAAAAAAAh8/hlADwTdtHDw/s1600-h/P1150612.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SjGzqPbtYiI/AAAAAAAAAh8/hlADwTdtHDw/s320/P1150612.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346251770944119330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    For those of you that don't know, Julia is a foreign exchange student from Germany that has been part of our family for the past nine months.  She came to live with us last September and has been part of our lives ever since.  Her family came to America a couple of weeks ago.  They came to visit the United States and then return home with their daughter that they haven't seen in almost a year.  I know that Julia was so happy to see her family.  I was excited for her to get to see them, especially her mother.  I cannot imagine being separated from my girls for that long.&lt;br /&gt;    Today Julia and her family are returning home to Germany.  I am so glad that she is with her family again.  But I have to be honest, it is quite different around here this evening.  We feel like a member of our family is gone.  She has been such a part of everything that we do and a part of our everyday lives, that it is difficult to imagine what it will be like now.  Ken and I walked into her room tonight and both commented that the room will never be the same.  It is Julia's room now.&lt;br /&gt;   Julia, by the time you read this, you will be back in your own home.  You will be in your own room.  And you will sleep in your own bed tonight.  You are far away from us now, but you will forever be in our hearts.  You will always be in our prayers.  We will always remember your sweet spirit.  Ashlyn thanked God for you tonight.   We hope that we were able to make your dream of being a foreign exchange student something that is a great memory for you.  You have a space in our hearts that will never go away.  We love you and we will miss you.  And this is not goodbye.  It is only "see you later".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4841546061351798234?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4841546061351798234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4841546061351798234' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4841546061351798234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4841546061351798234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/06/we-love-you-julia.html' title='We Love You, Julia!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SjGzqPbtYiI/AAAAAAAAAh8/hlADwTdtHDw/s72-c/P1150612.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-228578166464337745</id><published>2009-04-02T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T14:48:57.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Things I Love About My Life</title><content type='html'>I turned 30 last week.  I think I was expecting something amazing to take place.  It didn't.  It was kind of just another day for me.  I took the girls to school.  Watched my brothers kids while they ran errands.  Missed my husband because he was out of town on business.  Picked the girls up from school.  Listened to my toddler scream her lungs out during the entire dinner that my brother cooked for me.  There was nothing spectacular about that day.  What is spectacular is that God saw fit for me to see my 30th birthday.  I was sad several months ago counting down to the day that I could no longer say I was in my twenties.  Then one day I found out about a friend of a friend that died of cancer that was only in his early thirties.  He had two small children.  I started thinking to myself, "Why am I sad that I am getting older?  How awesome is it that I get to grow older and watch these two precious girls grow each day!"  I have started to see things differently.  I noticed a couple of days ago that I have five lines on the inside of my left forearm that I don't have on my right arm.  They are pretty obvious wrinkles.  I have noticed other wrinkles coming up on my face that I haven't noticed before as well, but these are different.  These are the wrinkles that I have from holding my two baby girls.  I always hold my girls on my left hip.  I hold Kenley there a lot...a LOT!  Now I have these permanent reminders to me of all the times that I have gotten to hold my daughters.  I have heard the phrase that the days are long, but the years are short.  It is so true.  My arms get so tired from carrying Kenley, but I know that too soon she won't want to be carried anymore and I will long for it.  Okay, there's my sentimental thoughts for my 30th birthday.  Here is a list of 30 things that I love about my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Being able to take Ashlyn to Disney On Ice&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUqKJM6SYI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Vmd7WIwomWc/s1600-h/P3260831.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUqKJM6SYI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Vmd7WIwomWc/s320/P3260831.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320204888565238146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Family dinners at home almost every night.&lt;br /&gt;3. Having Ashlyn come sleep in our bed on stormy nights.&lt;br /&gt;4. Being able to show Julia places like Lake Tahoe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUqxhi4lyI/AAAAAAAAAhk/2KUsojKmTak/s1600-h/P1150559.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUqxhi4lyI/AAAAAAAAAhk/2KUsojKmTak/s320/P1150559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320205565114750754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Hearing Ashlyn say her prayers and sing Jesus Loves Me.&lt;br /&gt;6. Pacifiers and pink blankets.  They have made my life easier for a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUpBOFpBUI/AAAAAAAAAhU/yrGuAMMMw2w/s1600-h/CIMG0452.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUpBOFpBUI/AAAAAAAAAhU/yrGuAMMMw2w/s320/CIMG0452.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320203635746473282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;7. My Toyota Sienna minivan (never thought I would be saying that!)&lt;br /&gt;8. Having my daughters live close to their grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUv1pJjaQI/AAAAAAAAAh0/m4nM3bQdYFY/s1600-h/Ashlyn+with+Papa+in+truck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUv1pJjaQI/AAAAAAAAAh0/m4nM3bQdYFY/s320/Ashlyn+with+Papa+in+truck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320211133433604354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;9. Knowing that no matter who the president is or what the economy is like that God will work everything for good.&lt;br /&gt;10. Scrapbook retreats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUmO7fJUZI/AAAAAAAAAhM/9IdkeZuje4U/s1600-h/scrapbook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUmO7fJUZI/AAAAAAAAAhM/9IdkeZuje4U/s320/scrapbook.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320200572736459154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;11. God providing me with the patience and sanity to take care of three kids this past year.&lt;br /&gt;12. Friday night date nights with my husband...there's one coming up tomorrow, Bob!&lt;br /&gt;13. Hearing Kenley say "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" When she wants to be held.&lt;br /&gt;14. Having a husband that is the best dad I have ever met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUMcWsr-lI/AAAAAAAAAhE/Dq6Yg6tiUGM/s1600-h/P1150566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUMcWsr-lI/AAAAAAAAAhE/Dq6Yg6tiUGM/s320/P1150566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320172216076991058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;15. Time to hang out with my husband at night and watch Survivor.&lt;br /&gt;16. The Grocery Game. Wooohooo! Check it out at &lt;a href="http://www.thegrocerygame.com/"&gt;www.thegrocerygame.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Getting to stay at home with my kids every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUKF54EM_I/AAAAAAAAAg4/i9T1w0W7J_Q/s1600-h/P3260828.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUKF54EM_I/AAAAAAAAAg4/i9T1w0W7J_Q/s320/P3260828.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320169631359710194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Knowing that even though life is a vapor, I will get to be with God in the end.&lt;br /&gt;19. Having good friends that are willing to listen, help and understand.&lt;br /&gt;20. Going to the zoo and seeing my fearless daughter be afraid of a parakeet...Come on..are you serious, Ashlyn?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUKFMfYR4I/AAAAAAAAAgw/1pMHQBirxOo/s1600-h/P3260772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUKFMfYR4I/AAAAAAAAAgw/1pMHQBirxOo/s320/P3260772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320169619176572802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Having a healthy family&lt;br /&gt;22. Being able to go to worship God every Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;23. Having wrinkles knowing that my sweet kids gave them to me.&lt;br /&gt;24. Knowing that my husband loves me, imperfections and all.&lt;br /&gt;25. Being able to go to the orchard to get away from life.&lt;br /&gt;26. Being able to come back home and sleep in my own bed.&lt;br /&gt;27. Seeing my kids play together and love each other so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUrsGkD3tI/AAAAAAAAAhs/PUXgeP9dyvo/s1600-h/P3210741.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUrsGkD3tI/AAAAAAAAAhs/PUXgeP9dyvo/s320/P3210741.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320206571484208850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;28. Hearing Ashlyn say that when she grows up she wants to be a mommy just like me.&lt;br /&gt;29. Gymboree and Baby Gap.&lt;br /&gt;30. God allowing me to see my 30th birthday and watch my babies grow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-228578166464337745?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/228578166464337745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=228578166464337745' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/228578166464337745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/228578166464337745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/04/30-things-i-love-about-life.html' title='30 Things I Love About My Life'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SdUqKJM6SYI/AAAAAAAAAhc/Vmd7WIwomWc/s72-c/P3260831.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-340796239677325274</id><published>2009-03-05T11:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T11:46:58.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ticket Please!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SbArp97SMII/AAAAAAAAAgo/OVx9HR35dNY/s1600-h/DSC06048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SbArp97SMII/AAAAAAAAAgo/OVx9HR35dNY/s320/DSC06048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309791960667664514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I guess there is a first time for everything.  Well, today just so happened to be the day that I got my very first speeding ticket.  I almost made it until my 30th birthday with no speeding ticket.  But today luck was not on my side.  I came to get Shelly and her friend Linda so that we could all run to the mall together.  We piled all three kids in the car as well as Linda, Shelly and myself.  The Mommy Mobile was loaded down.  So off we went....fast.  I was driving along listening to the story Shelly was telling me when I saw him....officer M. Lee.  He had his little motorcycle lights on before I passed him and he was ready to pounce.&lt;br /&gt;Officer M. Lee asked for the usual, driver's license and insurance.  No problem.  Except that my insurance card was not in my car.  Fantastic.  "Just let me know if you find your insurance card while I get your license plate information, ma'am."  So he walks to the front of the van.  "Where is your front license plate, ma'am?"  Great.  I told him it was under my passenger side floormat. Isn't that where everyone keeps their front license plate?  Guess not.  So officer M. Lee returned to his motorcycle to begin entering all my offens&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SbArEjouM_I/AAAAAAAAAgg/jFdzy7gKsbk/s1600-h/DSC06047.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SbArEjouM_I/AAAAAAAAAgg/jFdzy7gKsbk/s320/DSC06047.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309791317955326962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;es into his little ticket doodad.  He comes back to the van a few minutes later and I actually thought he was going to have mercy on me.  He didn't.  He told me that he had to give me a ticket for the failure to show insurance and missing license plate.  He didn't have to give me a ticket for going 63 in a 50.  But he did.&lt;br /&gt;Officer M. Lee was a nice guy.  He took some time to tell us some funny stories.  He was even nice enough to let Shelly get a picture of me getting my very first ticket.  Did you notice the thumbs up in the picture?  Nice guy, I tell ya. Getting a ticket today was not my idea of fun.  But oh, well.  I am healthy and blessed.  Apparently it was Kenley's idea of fun.  She was hamming it up while I was getting the instructions on how to take care of my ticket.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-340796239677325274?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/340796239677325274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=340796239677325274' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/340796239677325274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/340796239677325274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/03/ticket-please.html' title='Ticket Please!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SbArp97SMII/AAAAAAAAAgo/OVx9HR35dNY/s72-c/DSC06048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2604451198600512880</id><published>2009-02-28T15:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T19:10:39.324-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Up</title><content type='html'>Things around here have been a little busy this past month. It seems like I haven't had a spare second to sit down and do anything. I know that I am not the only one who feels this way. Some people may wonder what a stay at home mom does all day. I have the absolute best job in the world of staying home with my girls. It just doesn't get any better than getting to watch them grow and change everyday. But I can say that it is so exhausting sometimes. I believe that you have time for what you make time for. I have made time for the girls this past month and the time that I have gotten to myself has been scarce at best. So one thing that I have not made time for is blogging.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend Julia is away on a mission trip with the youth group in Houston. It is too cold to play outside. Ken has Kenley and is out getting pizza. Ashlyn is pretending that she is Lucy from Narnia. And I have a few minutes to sit down and blog. Aaahhhh.....&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that has been happening here is just everyday life. But I love it. I have joined a Bible study that I absolutely love. I tried to get involved with this study (BSF if any of you are familiar with it) several years ago and it was not the right time for me. I was so discouraged and felt like I couldn't keep up with everyone else's Bible knowledge. Shelly has been asking me for awhile to go and I guess about a month ago I went again. Her mother-in-law keeps Avery during the study and she offered to keep Kenley as well. What a blessing Dorothy is to my life right now. I have loved the study this time around and have already gotten so much out of it in just the few times that I have been. Thank you so much for what you do Dorothy.&lt;br /&gt;Julia has now been with us for six months! She has really become a part of our family. I can't imagine life without her. She turned 16 last month. We took her out to dinner with some of her friends to PF Chang's and had a great time. She also got a surprise party from the youth group at church. I think that made her day. She is doing really well in school and has become active in our church youth group. She is on a mission trip to Houston with the youth group this weekend. I am starting on a scrapbook for her next week. I am looking forward to doing it for her to give her something to remember from America.&lt;br /&gt;Kenley is growing like crazy and has had her first haircut. If you know Kenley, you know that it didn't go well. She was terrified of the hair stylist. You would have thought she was coming at Kenley with a chainsaw instead of a pair of scissors. I felt bad for the hair stylist. She couldn't even come near Kenley or look at her without Kenley losing it. It took us about 15 minutes to figure out that a lollipop might help. It made the screaming stop. Sweet mercy.&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn is doing her thing. Pretending to be a princess...all the time. We finally got her to ride a bike. The bike in the pictures below is the ONLY bike she will ride. She is getting better. I am just ready for spring so we can go ride around the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;I went on a scrapbook retreat with Shelly and Camille and got to meet some of their friends from college. We had a great time just hanging out. I had my meals cooked for me and got to eat them while they were still warm. I was loving life! I got so much done and am motivated to get caught up now. My mom came up to help with the girls while Ken was working on the first two days. Thank you Mom! The girls love seeing their Nana. And I came home to pictures of the girls that she took while I was gone. I love that!&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that has been what we have been up to. Whew. Here are the pics of what has been happening. Hopefully I will be back soon. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                              Kenley before the haircut....all is good...right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San61ClUatI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rM-zsaoXDbI/s1600-h/P2160669.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San61ClUatI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rM-zsaoXDbI/s320/P2160669.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308049424966249170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                Until we put her in the fun little car chair....not so much fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San61K6ZgMI/AAAAAAAAAgI/xLtrAlABcOo/s1600-h/P2160674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San61K6ZgMI/AAAAAAAAAgI/xLtrAlABcOo/s320/P2160674.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308049427202146498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                           Please, make her stop, Mommy.  Make her stop!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San601gjLXI/AAAAAAAAAgA/gz5d5XmnYo8/s1600-h/P2160675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San601gjLXI/AAAAAAAAAgA/gz5d5XmnYo8/s320/P2160675.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308049421456584050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                            What?  I have a lollipop.  I'm fine.  All is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6C5heY8I/AAAAAAAAAf4/DibBe07BUxQ/s1600-h/P2160678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6C5heY8I/AAAAAAAAAf4/DibBe07BUxQ/s320/P2160678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308048563540747202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                    I love my Daddy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6CuCkFuI/AAAAAAAAAfw/fkMkWYQBC3E/s1600-h/P2160685.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6CuCkFuI/AAAAAAAAAfw/fkMkWYQBC3E/s320/P2160685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308048560458307298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                                                           All done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6CiekXFI/AAAAAAAAAfo/5V9kNmqy5ic/s1600-h/P2160687.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6CiekXFI/AAAAAAAAAfo/5V9kNmqy5ic/s320/P2160687.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308048557354540114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                       Kenley helping Julia make a salad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6CYhH32I/AAAAAAAAAfg/laa0Wnhu0BE/s1600-h/P2190718.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6CYhH32I/AAAAAAAAAfg/laa0Wnhu0BE/s320/P2190718.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308048554680901474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                         &lt;br /&gt;                                                        Bug on her new bike....finally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6BxEa3kI/AAAAAAAAAfY/yjXage0S-9A/s1600-h/P2010663.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San6BxEa3kI/AAAAAAAAAfY/yjXage0S-9A/s320/P2010663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308048544091528770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2604451198600512880?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2604451198600512880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2604451198600512880' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2604451198600512880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2604451198600512880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/02/catching-up.html' title='Catching Up'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/San61ClUatI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/rM-zsaoXDbI/s72-c/P2160669.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2250755137004475912</id><published>2009-01-21T12:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T12:50:24.135-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Ski Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeJmp-S8mI/AAAAAAAAAdw/n0BJ8xHSHz4/s1600-h/P1130508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeJmp-S8mI/AAAAAAAAAdw/n0BJ8xHSHz4/s320/P1130508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293851184192483938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went to Reno last week for our family vacation. We also got to get in some skiing. This year was Ashlyn's first time on the slopes. She was so excited about getting on skis for the first time. She did a great job. She proved to be quite the athlete...she could ski down the hill and eat the snow off of her mittens at the same time. It got a little tricky staying on the skis while she was trying to reload the mittens with snow after she ran out. Here are a the pics we got of our little bug skiing for the first time. Great job, Bug!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeIl5DxCXI/AAAAAAAAAdo/IQvy0WSCVag/s1600-h/P1130509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeIl5DxCXI/AAAAAAAAAdo/IQvy0WSCVag/s320/P1130509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293850071550462322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeHTkaaFtI/AAAAAAAAAdI/-lyH1BMAIE8/s1600-h/P1130505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeHTkaaFtI/AAAAAAAAAdI/-lyH1BMAIE8/s320/P1130505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293848657259009746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeHUX6Z2fI/AAAAAAAAAdY/-r1IvkzjIvs/s1600-h/P1130507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeHUX6Z2fI/AAAAAAAAAdY/-r1IvkzjIvs/s320/P1130507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293848671083420146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeHUN-mHAI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/kTfnIs1CGIo/s1600-h/P1130506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeHUN-mHAI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/kTfnIs1CGIo/s320/P1130506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293848668416646146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2250755137004475912?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2250755137004475912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2250755137004475912' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2250755137004475912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2250755137004475912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-ski-trip.html' title='First Ski Trip'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SXeJmp-S8mI/AAAAAAAAAdw/n0BJ8xHSHz4/s72-c/P1130508.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-8976346325001200386</id><published>2009-01-01T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-02T08:11:54.167-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Little Brown Mare</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SV2Wk98uSfI/AAAAAAAAAc4/mw1xImG8a_0/s1600-h/scan0001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 273px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SV2Wk98uSfI/AAAAAAAAAc4/mw1xImG8a_0/s400/scan0001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286547099451542002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;        Flashy she was not.  She stood about 14.2 hands, not very tall.  She was sorrel.  She was registered as a red dun, but that was a stretch.  She was just brown.  Aside from a few stray hairs in the middle of her forehead she didn't have a white hair on her body.  Her mane was always thin and she didn't have much of a forelock to speak of.  In so many ways she was nothing but an ordinary little brown mare.  But I knew her better.  I want to talk about my little brown mare.&lt;br /&gt;       My mom tells me that she saw Prissy acting like a fool out in the pasture and decided that she was the one she had to have.  So she bought her for $500 on April 25, 1987.  I was eight years old.  Prissy was not yet broke when my parents brought her home.  You couldn't even get a halter on her.  I can remember my mom sitting in the stall with Prissy with a bucket of food just waiting patiently until Prissy decided to come to her.  Mom would later send Prissy to a trainer who had her for a minimal amount of time.  When he returned her he said, "She never even bucked.  I just got on her and started riding."&lt;br /&gt;       My parents had bought another horse along with Prissy whose lot in life was to find new and interesting ways to torment her rider.  Flip over on them, drag them up against barbed wire fences, run under low hanging branches to try to clothesline them, you name it, she tried it.  So I quickly decided that Prissy was the horse for me.  She had a much sweeter nature.  I began riding Prissy more and more.&lt;br /&gt;       When my dad was murdered in 1990, Prissy was my therapy.  I began riding more.  I think it was around then that I decided that I wanted to run barrels and poles.  I needed something to focus on.  My stepdad, Buddy set up barrels and poles  in our pasture so that I could start teaching Prissy the patterns.  I cannot tell you how many thousands of times I walked that little mare through those patterns, stopping her at each turn and backing up.  I used to think that Buddy just made me walk those patterns because he didn't want me to have fun.  I know better now.&lt;br /&gt;       Prissy and I learned how to run barrels and poles together.  At my first barrel race that I went to on her I won $1.25.  I still have it.  When we were doing our best, I can remember bringing home hundreds of dollars that I had won at a barrel race and showing my mom.  I didn't care that all of my friends in 4H had new, expensive horses.  I have these memories that flood my mind right now...humor me.  I can remember two sisters that beat me by full seconds in both patterns one year.  By the next year, their parents had bought them new barrel horses that cost who knows how much.  They put velcro in the saddle so the girls would stay in because the horses were too much for them to handle.  I still had Prissy.  We beat them just about everywhere we went.  When I was about 15 I was at a barrel race on Cowboy Christmas weekend (that July 4th for all the city slickers) and ran an awesome pole pattern.  I was walking my little brown mare out to the trailer when I man came up and offered to write a check for her for $10,000.  I told him she wasn't for sale.  After he replied that he was serious I told him that I was as well.&lt;br /&gt;       When I went to college I tried to keep riding her as much as I could, but studying and work consumed my time.  I didn't give her the time that I knew she needed.  When I graduated I decided to sell her.  I sold her to a little six year old girl just knowing that she would be loved forever.  I found out a couple of years later that Prissy was too much horse for the girl and had been sold again.  This time, the situation was not so fortunate.  Prissy had been sold to a family with a 14 year old high school girl who just wanted to run.  Although I never saw it firsthand, I have been told by several people that this girl would just run her into the ground.  When Prissy did anything less than perfect they would hit her.  I sit here now and cry.  It breaks my heart to know that this horse that I loved so much was so mistreated.&lt;br /&gt;       Fast forward to 2006.  I was married and had Ashlyn.  In conversations with my mom, she had mentioned that she wanted to get some horses and start riding again.  I told her to be sure she got an older, smaller horse.  I think it was a couple of months later that Mom called me to let me know she had bought a horse.  This is how the conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;Mom:"I bought a horse!"&lt;br /&gt;Me:"Really, mare? Gelding?"&lt;br /&gt;Mom:"Mare."&lt;br /&gt;Me:"What is she like?  What color is she?  How old is she?"&lt;br /&gt;Mom:"She is twenty years old.  Sorrel.  She is very pretty.  Short, but stocky little mare."&lt;br /&gt;Me:"Cool, what is her name?"&lt;br /&gt;Mom:"Prissy."&lt;br /&gt;Silence.&lt;br /&gt;       I couldn't believe it.  My mom had bought the horse that I had grown up riding.   The family that owned her had mistreated her so badly that she would no longer face a barrel or pole pattern.  They sold her to my mom for next to nothing because they thought she was useless.  Mom knew better.&lt;br /&gt;       In the few years that followed, my daughter would get to ride this same little brown mare that I had loved as a child.  I remember crying when I put Ashlyn on Prissy's back for the first time.  My little girl was sitting on the horse with the biggest heart in the world and she had no idea.&lt;br /&gt;       Prissy lived for the next few years at my parents orchard.  Her only job was to enjoy life as a retired horse and be lead around giving rides to grandchildren a couple of times a year.  We brought her to Mansfield for a short while in my attempt to start riding again.  I wasn't able to get out to see her as much as I wanted so we moved her back to the orchard several months ago.&lt;br /&gt;       My little brown mare died today.  She would be 23 years old on March 7.  The little horse with a heart of gold that I loved with everything in me is gone.There are details that don't really matter.  My mom has been sitting by her side for three days making sure she was comfortable and hoping that she would get better.  I drove down to my parents orchard today to say farewell to my horse that I called my friend for 22 years.&lt;br /&gt;       In my six hours of driving today I thought a lot about Prissy.  I have been thinking about how much a part of my life she has been.  I have been thinking about the lessons that she has taught me and the things that she has brought to my life.  Sure animals give kids a sense of responsibility.  I had to take care of her.  But I also learned that when you set your mind to something you finish it.  When you are eight years old, you can't get a saddle on the back of a horse - unless you stand in a wheelbarrow.  When your family doesn't have a lot of money you can't ride an expensive, trained barrel horse - unless you train one yourself.&lt;br /&gt;       Prissy also gave me a bond with my stepdad that most girls don't have.  Buddy grew up riding horses and taught me much of what I know about horses.  I can remember him telling me that he had forgotten more about horses than I would ever learn.  Now he calls me often with questions about horses that I know he knows the answer to.  I love you, Buddy.  Thank you for teaching me.&lt;br /&gt;       My little brown mare was buried at my parents orchard this afternoon.  I was able to once again see her sweet face and know that she was not hurting.  She was not flashy.   To most she was just an ordinary mare.  But she had an extraordinary heart.  Buddy told me this afternoon that she was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of horse.  He said I would never know another one like her.  I know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-8976346325001200386?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/8976346325001200386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=8976346325001200386' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8976346325001200386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8976346325001200386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-little-brown-mare.html' title='My Little Brown Mare'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SV2Wk98uSfI/AAAAAAAAAc4/mw1xImG8a_0/s72-c/scan0001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-3702233695845245096</id><published>2008-12-31T11:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T11:38:21.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ice Outing</title><content type='html'>There is an ice sculpture exhibit about half an hour away from our house. I thought it would be neat to get all of Ken's family together one afternoon and go check it out. So we decided that this past Saturday would be a great time to go....so did the rest of the metroplex. We had a fantastic time looking at all of the ice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenley with Uncle Roger while we waited&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvHiFl908I/AAAAAAAAAcg/T5DDIegDm1M/s1600-h/PC270258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvHiFl908I/AAAAAAAAAcg/T5DDIegDm1M/s320/PC270258.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286037976080307138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and waited&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE8vVcQ1I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/-SfciBb8t6E/s1600-h/PC270272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE8vVcQ1I/AAAAAAAAAbQ/-SfciBb8t6E/s320/PC270272.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286035135427003218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and waited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE8E40tRI/AAAAAAAAAbI/I97Cl7YShRw/s1600-h/PC270261.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE8E40tRI/AAAAAAAAAbI/I97Cl7YShRw/s320/PC270261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286035124032681234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We finally got in!  Here are all 14 of us at the beginning of the exhibit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvJ0MiRDFI/AAAAAAAAAco/ZBRD8b_SC9E/s1600-h/Ice+Sculpters+Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvJ0MiRDFI/AAAAAAAAAco/ZBRD8b_SC9E/s320/Ice+Sculpters+Picture.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286040486204738642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all got to sit on Santa's lap.  All of this is out of ice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGOn2I_KI/AAAAAAAAAbw/SfLVKcbfEUs/s1600-h/PC270296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGOn2I_KI/AAAAAAAAAbw/SfLVKcbfEUs/s320/PC270296.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286036542165941410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All five of us in the icy gingerbread house.  This was one of my favorites.  Even all of the candy pieces are solid colored ice.  It was truly unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGOCeFUFI/AAAAAAAAAbo/zowG7xShSPg/s1600-h/PC270288.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGOCeFUFI/AAAAAAAAAbo/zowG7xShSPg/s320/PC270288.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286036532132925522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Julia and Ashlyn on the ice bridge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE9kdElVI/AAAAAAAAAbg/dmczjBCik94/s1600-h/PC270278.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE9kdElVI/AAAAAAAAAbg/dmczjBCik94/s320/PC270278.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286035149686084946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kenley was freezing cold.  It was 9 degrees in the exhibit and she just couldn't take it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE8yI_t-I/AAAAAAAAAbY/Th8JuhlvSak/s1600-h/PC270277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvE8yI_t-I/AAAAAAAAAbY/Th8JuhlvSak/s320/PC270277.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286035136180107234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn coming down the ice slide.  Weeeeeeee!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGOxov92I/AAAAAAAAAb4/gDMllR2GpH4/s1600-h/PC270297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGOxov92I/AAAAAAAAAb4/gDMllR2GpH4/s320/PC270297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286036544794130274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom's can still have fun too...Weeeeeeeee!  (Check out the ice reindeer)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGPshzWLI/AAAAAAAAAcA/-6ObrmMKSSo/s1600-h/PC270299.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGPshzWLI/AAAAAAAAAcA/-6ObrmMKSSo/s320/PC270299.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286036560602683570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the walk through we were all freezing cold and ready to get warm.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGQHl43TI/AAAAAAAAAcI/J50BVhLRq6M/s1600-h/PC270300.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGQHl43TI/AAAAAAAAAcI/J50BVhLRq6M/s320/PC270300.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286036567867579698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last picture.  Poor Kenley was stuffed in my down jacket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGzTSe0oI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/QpUqlm1v8fg/s1600-h/PC270303.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGzTSe0oI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/QpUqlm1v8fg/s320/PC270303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286037172302828162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had to get a picture of Ashlyn with her new best friend.  Stephen couldn't get a break.  It was so sweet.  She cried when they left to go back home.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGzqGfemI/AAAAAAAAAcY/4HEGpeFRQFs/s1600-h/PC270319.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvGzqGfemI/AAAAAAAAAcY/4HEGpeFRQFs/s320/PC270319.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286037178426554978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-3702233695845245096?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/3702233695845245096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=3702233695845245096' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3702233695845245096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3702233695845245096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/12/ice-outing.html' title='Ice Outing'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvHiFl908I/AAAAAAAAAcg/T5DDIegDm1M/s72-c/PC270258.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2199280801077306495</id><published>2008-12-31T10:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T11:06:09.509-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Morning</title><content type='html'>Ken's family came in for Christmas this year. It was the first time that all three cousins have been together. Needless to say Christmas morning was a blast! It was a new experience for Julia because in Germany the children open their gifts on Christmas Eve. It was difficult for her to wait another night and then have to wait for everyone to get situated and ready to open gifts the following morning. We had a great time watching the girls open their gifts this year and I had a great time learning to use my Christmas gift (a new camera!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Roger and Aunt Bonita got all three girls a princess nightgown and a crown.  Kenley wouldn't take the crown off....here we go again :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAjWbcgCI/AAAAAAAAAa4/JhEdsQ2VPR0/s1600-h/PC260242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAjWbcgCI/AAAAAAAAAa4/JhEdsQ2VPR0/s320/PC260242.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286030301198057506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn on her new scooter.  She kept crashing on purpose...really..she was throwing herself on the sidewalk so she could show me how well her new pads work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAjLXopnI/AAAAAAAAAaw/JpYpO8gA_PI/s1600-h/PC250220.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAjLXopnI/AAAAAAAAAaw/JpYpO8gA_PI/s320/PC250220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286030298229286514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn had to lay everything out that she got in her stocking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAiyFu0hI/AAAAAAAAAao/69jHGJ-zs_Y/s1600-h/PC240208.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAiyFu0hI/AAAAAAAAAao/69jHGJ-zs_Y/s320/PC240208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286030291443307026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;What a ham!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAiXHkxZI/AAAAAAAAAag/rkCwQDQSWiw/s1600-h/PC240206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAiXHkxZI/AAAAAAAAAag/rkCwQDQSWiw/s320/PC240206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286030284203279762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the girls opening their stockings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-k-e8y6I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/PrWfeVML4No/s1600-h/PC240210.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-k-e8y6I/AAAAAAAAAaQ/PrWfeVML4No/s320/PC240210.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286028130106788770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is better than getting a princess dress for Christmas?  Getting three princess dresses and a wand!  Thank you Aunt Kim and Uncle Luke!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-kuahdBI/AAAAAAAAAaI/1fsXFWpCoVY/s1600-h/PC240186.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-kuahdBI/AAAAAAAAAaI/1fsXFWpCoVY/s320/PC240186.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286028125793252370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kenley opening her gift from Aunt Kim and Uncle Luke.  Just happy to have the box!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-kmBbrkI/AAAAAAAAAaA/2BoyiSEvtjM/s1600-h/PC240182.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-kmBbrkI/AAAAAAAAAaA/2BoyiSEvtjM/s320/PC240182.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286028123540532802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia showing off her new makeup&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-kMRtJUI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/k--YlH-MV1Q/s1600-h/PC240157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-kMRtJUI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/k--YlH-MV1Q/s320/PC240157.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286028116629464386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Finally, Santa brought Snow White and the horse that I have been calling him about."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-jw_QmTI/AAAAAAAAAZw/S5I5AGK-eEU/s1600-h/PC240155.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu-jw_QmTI/AAAAAAAAAZw/S5I5AGK-eEU/s320/PC240155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286028109304338738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a great Christmas morning with our girls.  We are so blessed to have this family and so blessed to have a Savior whose birthday we remember each Christmas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2199280801077306495?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2199280801077306495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2199280801077306495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2199280801077306495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2199280801077306495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-morning.html' title='Christmas Morning'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVvAjWbcgCI/AAAAAAAAAa4/JhEdsQ2VPR0/s72-c/PC260242.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4903869493287029440</id><published>2008-12-31T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T10:36:40.413-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Fun</title><content type='html'>We have been enjoying our holiday now for about two weeks. It has been a zoo around our house but has been so much fun. My brother and his wife came in a couple of weeks ago with their new baby. It was our first opportunity to meet her. I think she is probably the prettiest newborn baby I have ever seen. She is adorable. My mom and step dad also came up for the day to exchange gifts for the kids. We had our Christmas with Mom, Buddy, Joe and his family and Ashlyn got to play with her cousins. We had a great time just being together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu7br12FqI/AAAAAAAAAZo/XHIJu6vc-n8/s1600-h/PC200093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu7br12FqI/AAAAAAAAAZo/XHIJu6vc-n8/s320/PC200093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286024671948838562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4903869493287029440?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4903869493287029440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4903869493287029440' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4903869493287029440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4903869493287029440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-fun.html' title='Christmas Fun'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SVu7br12FqI/AAAAAAAAAZo/XHIJu6vc-n8/s72-c/PC200093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2834626731109104992</id><published>2008-11-28T18:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T18:58:25.971-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Servant's Heart</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCvBJ44MAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/rSBHxyc85V8/s1600-h/DSC04081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCvBJ44MAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/rSBHxyc85V8/s320/DSC04081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273907598020063234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    Sometimes there are things that happen in my married life that make me remember how blessed I am to be married to Ken.  Yesterday was one of those days.  We had our Thanksgiving dinner on Wednesday evening with some friends so that left Thursday to hang up Christmas lights.  We were outside working on getting our lights up (Ken was on the roof, I was supervising) when the neighbor came by and mentioned how good they looked.  He said that he wished that he could get his lights up on his peaks, but that he was too scared to get up on the roof to do it.&lt;br /&gt;Sooo...after hours of working with our lights, Ken left to go put the neighbor's lights on his house.  Now, keep in mind that the Cowboys played yesterday afternoon.  Ken had been looking forward to that day for weeks.  But he was still putting lights up when they started so he recorded it and started late.  My husband has such a servant's heart and I am so blessed to be married to him.  I love you, Bob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;PS. For those of you who are thinking I just called my husband something else, don't be alarmed.  That is what we call each other....long story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2834626731109104992?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2834626731109104992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2834626731109104992' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2834626731109104992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2834626731109104992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/11/servants-heart.html' title='A Servant&apos;s Heart'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCvBJ44MAI/AAAAAAAAAZg/rSBHxyc85V8/s72-c/DSC04081.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-296904990760217085</id><published>2008-11-28T18:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T18:37:07.054-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Do</title><content type='html'>Like her sister, Kenley is blessed with her daddy's hair. Super fine and grows straight forward. Right into her eyes. We made the mistake of cutting Ashlyn's hair at this age and she looked like a boy for two months. We have decided to just let Kenley's grow wild and pull it back when we need to. Here is our little Pebbles with her new do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCqs_1bH4I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/yzOQqRQPc58/s1600-h/DSC04051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCqs_1bH4I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/yzOQqRQPc58/s400/DSC04051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273902853677326210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-296904990760217085?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/296904990760217085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=296904990760217085' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/296904990760217085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/296904990760217085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/11/new-do.html' title='A New Do'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCqs_1bH4I/AAAAAAAAAZQ/yzOQqRQPc58/s72-c/DSC04051.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-6472531050711418740</id><published>2008-11-28T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T18:32:24.016-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I Could Save Time In a Bottle</title><content type='html'>Ashlyn has a good friend that she loves to spend time with. He lives two houses down from us. They have good days and bad days, but it has been awhile since they have spent any amount of time together so these past few days have been great for them. They have been playing at one house or the other and no arguing or fighting has gone on. Quite the opposite in fact. They are so sweet and innocent and then seem so grown up at the same time. Here are some pictures of them playing this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here they are riding their horses together.  Notice the look of attitude on my daughter's face in the second picture...sassy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCodJNqSFI/AAAAAAAAAY4/1guwt_YEQNQ/s1600-h/DSC04082.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCodJNqSFI/AAAAAAAAAY4/1guwt_YEQNQ/s320/DSC04082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273900382293739602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCodNE2SBI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Owtyln6Bteo/s1600-h/DSC04086.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCodNE2SBI/AAAAAAAAAYw/Owtyln6Bteo/s320/DSC04086.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273900383330519058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The two pictures below are blurry because they were taken through the back door window.  Sorry, but if they would have seen me they would have stopped dancing...precious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCoc0OPFPI/AAAAAAAAAYo/XgW2LnNcLmk/s1600-h/DSC04070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCoc0OPFPI/AAAAAAAAAYo/XgW2LnNcLmk/s320/DSC04070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273900376659006706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCocmI1N6I/AAAAAAAAAYg/8n-NrbAF5q0/s1600-h/DSC04071.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCocmI1N6I/AAAAAAAAAYg/8n-NrbAF5q0/s320/DSC04071.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273900372878243746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They could not be cuter together.  They look so grown up in this picture.  Slow down, time.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCo2AAHjDI/AAAAAAAAAZA/VQFWgA-JqPo/s1600-h/DSC04066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCo2AAHjDI/AAAAAAAAAZA/VQFWgA-JqPo/s320/DSC04066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273900809317747762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-6472531050711418740?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/6472531050711418740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=6472531050711418740' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6472531050711418740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6472531050711418740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/11/if-i-could-save-time-in-bottle.html' title='If I Could Save Time In a Bottle'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCodJNqSFI/AAAAAAAAAY4/1guwt_YEQNQ/s72-c/DSC04082.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-3163677035972267325</id><published>2008-11-28T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T18:40:32.287-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spaghetti Night</title><content type='html'>I get this weekly email update that tells me how to raise my kids. It has worked well so far I think. Just kidding, but I do get a weekly email telling me about infant and toddler milestones and what to expect. My last one told me that it is now okay to let Kenley start trying to feed herself with a spoon. Tonight we had spaghetti so we thought it would be a good idea to let her have at it. It was priceless. This is the aftermath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCmqSngR9I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/x4JQ0IAqTK0/s1600-h/DSC04093.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCmqSngR9I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/x4JQ0IAqTK0/s320/DSC04093.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273898409133098962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCmqIj5PZI/AAAAAAAAAYI/tozCcrmD5NQ/s1600-h/DSC04090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCmqIj5PZI/AAAAAAAAAYI/tozCcrmD5NQ/s320/DSC04090.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273898406433602962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCrgz1zTDI/AAAAAAAAAZY/MLf62jlWz1c/s1600-h/DSC04095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCrgz1zTDI/AAAAAAAAAZY/MLf62jlWz1c/s320/DSC04095.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273903743810882610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-3163677035972267325?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/3163677035972267325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=3163677035972267325' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3163677035972267325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3163677035972267325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/11/spaghetti-night.html' title='Spaghetti Night'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/STCmqSngR9I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/x4JQ0IAqTK0/s72-c/DSC04093.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2385579249649190790</id><published>2008-11-19T18:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T19:12:57.612-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Kenley!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTVPuF3dII/AAAAAAAAAXg/jizNeME5ls8/s1600-h/DSC04018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTVPuF3dII/AAAAAAAAAXg/jizNeME5ls8/s320/DSC04018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270571929977713794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;During my last pregnancy I had wished for a sweet little baby that loved her mommy. On November 19, 2007 my wish came true. Since the day she was born, Kenley has wanted nothing more than to be held and loved on. She would much prefer for me to hold her than to do anything else in this world. It seems like I have held her for most of this past year. I have felt bad at times for complaining about how much I have held her. My arms have ached, truly ached from hours of holding this little baby whose only wish is to be near me. But as I look back on this past year that I have had with her, I think about how grateful I am to have her in my life. I think about how much more my arms would ache if I didn't have her to hold each day. I love everything about this baby. I love her big doe eyes. I love her chubby, kissable cheeks. I love her tiny little nose. I love her long, skinny feet. She is my sweet little angel and I love her so.&lt;br /&gt;We had a party for her this past weekend (will post that later), but we went to dinner tonight with Matt and Shelly to have a small celebration on their actual birthday. I know that I am not the only mother who has bittersweet feelings on this very special day. As I watched her sitting next to me, I thought about how fast this past year has gone for me. It seems like just a few days ago that we brought her home from the hospital. She is growing up right before my eyes. I can't wait for each tomorrow and what it holds, but want to hang on to each today. Here are some pictures from her birthday dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT7QgSF5I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/aMHk321GbVo/s1600-h/DSC04026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT7QgSF5I/AAAAAAAAAXQ/aMHk321GbVo/s320/DSC04026.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270570478926436242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                            Yummy ice cream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT67pDJ3I/AAAAAAAAAXI/V7ZDqO3IZ2o/s1600-h/DSC04025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT67pDJ3I/AAAAAAAAAXI/V7ZDqO3IZ2o/s320/DSC04025.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270570473326061426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                               The family photo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT6fzNK3I/AAAAAAAAAXA/wDFflVnpBtA/s1600-h/DSC04023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT6fzNK3I/AAAAAAAAAXA/wDFflVnpBtA/s320/DSC04023.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270570465852468082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                  Ashlyn, Julia, and Kenley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT6I-6OhI/AAAAAAAAAW4/V-C5I6p870g/s1600-h/DSC04015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT6I-6OhI/AAAAAAAAAW4/V-C5I6p870g/s320/DSC04015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270570459727542802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                           Me and my daddy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT5-UIdwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/CtbaNCrXL9A/s1600-h/DSC04013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTT5-UIdwI/AAAAAAAAAWw/CtbaNCrXL9A/s320/DSC04013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270570456863766274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                  The two birthday girls&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2385579249649190790?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2385579249649190790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2385579249649190790' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2385579249649190790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2385579249649190790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/11/happy-birthday-kenley.html' title='Happy Birthday Kenley!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SSTVPuF3dII/AAAAAAAAAXg/jizNeME5ls8/s72-c/DSC04018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-5514236873108656008</id><published>2008-11-02T12:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-02T17:24:46.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Cow, Sleeping Beauty!</title><content type='html'>We had a great time on Halloween this year.  Germany doesn't have a trick or treating tradition so Julia got to experience this very American thing with the Rushings.  We went to the neighbors house to have chili and let the kids play for a little while.  Then right before 7 we left to start trick or treating.  Ashlyn was dressed up as Sleeping Beauty.  She had waited a long time for Halloween, just looking at Aurora's dress hanging up in our closet.  I was going to try to stuff Kenley into the pumpkin that Ashlyn wore for her first Halloween, but that just wasn't going to happen.  So Kenley was a cow that we borrowed from Shelly (thank you).  Julia was a German teenager.  They were all very cute.  Aurora's hair didn't last long, but it was cute while it lasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7owA6EI/AAAAAAAAAWo/hces2FfsDzk/s1600-h/DSC03961.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7owA6EI/AAAAAAAAAWo/hces2FfsDzk/s320/DSC03961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264170228249585730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                    Julia doing her thing....just chillin'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7a47ZTI/AAAAAAAAAWg/ftxX__ns6_I/s1600-h/DSC03971.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7a47ZTI/AAAAAAAAAWg/ftxX__ns6_I/s320/DSC03971.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264170224528876850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                          Julia: "Ashlyn, please take a picture with me..." &lt;br /&gt;                                                          Ashlyn (in whiny 3 year old voice): "I don't want to take a picture!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7SMbVTI/AAAAAAAAAWY/xnYJ0h9ZBj0/s1600-h/DSC03969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7SMbVTI/AAAAAAAAAWY/xnYJ0h9ZBj0/s320/DSC03969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264170222194742578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                     Mommy:  "Ashlyn, please stand still so I can take your picture..."&lt;br /&gt;                                       Ashlyn (in whiny 3 year old voice):  "I don't want you to take my picture!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7AOsHkI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/Br8uRaW3Wio/s1600-h/DSC03962.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7AOsHkI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/Br8uRaW3Wio/s320/DSC03962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264170217372393026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                              Holy (cute)  Cow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn loaded up on the candy and had a blast.  It is so much fun to see the number of houses that she makes it to increase each year.  Her first year she made it to about 6 houses.  We called it quits at about 25 this year.  I love these memories!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-5514236873108656008?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/5514236873108656008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=5514236873108656008' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5514236873108656008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5514236873108656008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/11/holy-cow-sleeping-beauty.html' title='Holy Cow, Sleeping Beauty!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SQ4W7owA6EI/AAAAAAAAAWo/hces2FfsDzk/s72-c/DSC03961.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2854294043284744421</id><published>2008-10-21T13:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T13:24:51.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Word Answers</title><content type='html'>Okay, I was nominated for this fun game by Shelly (thanks) and here are my answers...finally.  I have had this done since she sent it to me, but here it is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Where is your cell phone? purse&lt;br /&gt;2. Where is your significant other? sleeping&lt;br /&gt;3. Your hair color? brown&lt;br /&gt;4. Your mother? concerned&lt;br /&gt;5. Your father? gone&lt;br /&gt;6. Your favorite thing? motherhood&lt;br /&gt;7. Your dream last night? worrisome&lt;br /&gt;8. Your dream/goal? motherhood&lt;br /&gt;9. The room your in? hallway&lt;br /&gt;10. Your hobby? scrapbooking&lt;br /&gt;11. Your fear? death&lt;br /&gt;12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? here&lt;br /&gt;13. Where were you last night? home&lt;br /&gt;14. What you're not? apathetic&lt;br /&gt;15. One of your wish list items? vacations&lt;br /&gt;16. Where you grew up? Huntsville&lt;br /&gt;17. The last thing you did? breakfast&lt;br /&gt;18. What you are wearing? sweatshirt&lt;br /&gt;19. Your TV? long-awaited&lt;br /&gt;20. Your pet? Madison&lt;br /&gt;21. Your computer? Mac&lt;br /&gt;22. Your mood? excited&lt;br /&gt;23. Missing someone? Porters&lt;br /&gt;24. Your car? Sienna&lt;br /&gt;25. Something you're not wearing? shoes&lt;br /&gt;26. Favorite store? Gymboree&lt;br /&gt;27. Your summer? fun&lt;br /&gt;28. Love someone? daughters&lt;br /&gt;29. Your favorite color? blue&lt;br /&gt;30. Last time you laughed? yesterday&lt;br /&gt;31. Last time you cried? yesterday&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seven people that I am nominating for this "award" are below.  Complete the questionare in one word answers and forward on to seven more (or however many) people.  It is quite fun and more difficult than you think.  Have fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia&lt;br /&gt;Mom&lt;br /&gt;Sarah&lt;br /&gt;Donna&lt;br /&gt;Angelika&lt;br /&gt;Christi P.&lt;br /&gt;Becky S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, nominees.  Make me proud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2854294043284744421?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2854294043284744421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2854294043284744421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2854294043284744421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2854294043284744421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/10/one-word-answers.html' title='One Word Answers'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7261796604905042974</id><published>2008-10-09T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T12:51:18.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And year six goes to....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5W1les4dI/AAAAAAAAASo/px3Vnjzk7Wc/s1600-h/DSC03774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5W1les4dI/AAAAAAAAASo/px3Vnjzk7Wc/s320/DSC03774.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255233293781885394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  For those of you who don't know, Ken and I have an anniversary tradition.  Each year we take turns planning a trip for our anniversary.  But the one who is planning the trip doesn't tell the other one about it.  Everything is a total surprise until the day of the trip.  This year was Ken's turn.   He did a great job keeping it a secret from me.  I had no idea where we were going.  And Julia proved to be very good at keeping secrets.  She had been telling me for quite some time that she had no idea where we were headed and she had known for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;We left early (very) last Friday morning and flew to Seattle.  We met Randy, Delia and Brynn for hamburgers at Red Mill (I think).  They are listed as a top 10 burger joint by someone important.  The hamburgers were very good but the company was better.  This was my first time to meet Brynn.  She is so cute.  After lunch, I went back to the room to take a nap while Ken exchanged our car because the radio didn't work...only to get a car that the tire was flat.  So...while I watched HGTV in the room, Ken took the car to get the tire fixed...welcome to Seattle.  Then we met Randy and Delia downtown for dinner at this great Fondue restaurant.  Well, I am assuming it was great.  We didn't have reservations and were told that we couldn't be seated for three hours.  No big deal, we were just happy to get away.  PF Chang's sounded good anyway.  So we went to PF Chang's.  They didn't have any tables available, or pagers for that matter.  But we could come back in an hour and 15 minutes and get our pager to wait for a table.  At this point we were all chuckling a little bit.  So we all went and shot a couple of games of pool and came back to eat dinner.  It was a fun evening.&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday we spent the entire day shopping.  We went to the world famous Pike's Market and I got to see the guys throw the fish.  It was so neat!  The market was a really neat experience.  There was tons of food, flowers, local artwork and even purses made out of nothing but duct tape!&lt;br /&gt;On Monday we drove a hour or so from Seattle and went on the Northwest Trek...somewhat of a Seattle safari.  We rode on a tram through a 435 acre wildlife park.  We got to see grizzly bears, moose, elk and other great wildlife native to the area.  We even got to see a skunk, which we wouldn't get to see again until...well, we got home (that story coming right up).&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday we went back downtown and rode the  520 ft (I think) Space Needle.  Thanks, but no thanks on that one.  Holy cow that thing is so high.  I was getting sick from feeling the movement at the top.  They said that it only moved an inch for every 10 mph of wind...that was enough.  After coming down (not soon enough) we headed back to the airport and home to see our girls.  It was SO hard to be away from them.&lt;br /&gt;About the skunk...we were so tired from our trip and looking forward to just coming home and relaxing, which we did.  Then right before we went to  bed (so we thought) Ken let Madison out to go potty.  Before Ken realized that she was trying to make friends with skunk, she had already been sprayed.  It was the most disgusting thing I have smelled in my entire life.  We spent the next hour bathing her (I quit counting after the sixth bath) and trying to get the smell to go away.  It didn't work.  I think I finally got the smell out last night.  Gross.  The Seattle trip was great fun and I so enjoyed getting to spend time with Randy and Delia.  I wish that we could see you guys more often.  We miss you!  Seattle is a beautiful city and has breathtaking scenery.  Thanks for the surprise, Ken.  Happy anniversary, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pictures of our trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSDu-xtI/AAAAAAAAASw/rxMPg9zKTmA/s1600-h/DSC03692.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSDu-xtI/AAAAAAAAASw/rxMPg9zKTmA/s320/DSC03692.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255233782939567826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSSnk2_I/AAAAAAAAAS4/A7cO5iLr10Y/s1600-h/DSC03693.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSSnk2_I/AAAAAAAAAS4/A7cO5iLr10Y/s320/DSC03693.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255233786935041010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSZwMMTI/AAAAAAAAATA/aY05L5E2SS0/s1600-h/DSC03696.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSZwMMTI/AAAAAAAAATA/aY05L5E2SS0/s320/DSC03696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255233788850221362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSreWU5I/AAAAAAAAATI/yWamHsqOd2w/s1600-h/DSC03762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5XSreWU5I/AAAAAAAAATI/yWamHsqOd2w/s320/DSC03762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255233793607226258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For any of you keeping up on our anniversary tradition, here is our count so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First: Gatlinburg, Tennessee&lt;br /&gt;Second: Ashville, North Carolina and the Biltmore Estate&lt;br /&gt;Third: Napa Valley, California for a wine country tour&lt;br /&gt;Fourth: Tampa, Florida Busch Gardens and the Tampa Zoo&lt;br /&gt;Fifth: Ft. Worth, Texas&lt;br /&gt;Sixth: SEATTLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have so much fun with our anniversary tradition.  I am not sure which one is more fun, planning the trip or being surprised.  Either way, we both enjoy getting away and hanging out together by ourselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7261796604905042974?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7261796604905042974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7261796604905042974' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7261796604905042974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7261796604905042974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/10/and-year-six-goes-to.html' title='And year six goes to....'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SO5W1les4dI/AAAAAAAAASo/px3Vnjzk7Wc/s72-c/DSC03774.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-8155379864654512610</id><published>2008-10-01T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T09:05:16.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashlyn's First Dentist Visit</title><content type='html'>When you are a big three year old you get to go to the dentist.  So Ashlyn had her first appointment today.  I looked like the typical scrapbooking mother taking my child into the dentist at 7:20 am with my camera.  Ashlyn was less than impressed with this, but let me take several pictures.  As some of you know, Ashlyn took quite a spill a couple of weeks ago at the babysitting co-op at our church.  She skinned her nose and knocked both of her top front teeth loose.  We had a dentist at our church look at her teeth and he said we were fine to wait until her appointment.  Her teeth are still loose and are starting to turn a little darker color which is normal (so I am told).  Her dentist said that they will probably tighten back up and all will be fine...whew!  I thought I would share with everyone the pictures of our big girl going to her first dentist appoinment.  I have to say that I am so proud of her.  Everyone that worked with her was saying that she did so good.  They said they usually don't get all of the x-rays with a three year old and that all of her were perfect.  She was so grown up about everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOb2wppjOI/AAAAAAAAASg/KCvSSUJHuvs/s1600-h/DSC03672.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOb2wppjOI/AAAAAAAAASg/KCvSSUJHuvs/s320/DSC03672.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252212955518962914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                              In the parking lot before.  We let her take her&lt;br /&gt;                                                blanket because she was nervous.  So cute.&lt;br /&gt;                                            &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOObNYjIAVI/AAAAAAAAASY/h6XJH2nAfEY/s1600-h/DSC03675.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOObNYjIAVI/AAAAAAAAASY/h6XJH2nAfEY/s320/DSC03675.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252212244674511186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                          Still sleepy in the waiting room&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZglj9hcI/AAAAAAAAARo/I9e05vXHYbU/s1600-h/DSC03678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZglj9hcI/AAAAAAAAARo/I9e05vXHYbU/s320/DSC03678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252210375561938370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                                               Looking a little nervous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZgsbSirI/AAAAAAAAARw/dJ_HjXgyH5A/s1600-h/DSC03679.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZgsbSirI/AAAAAAAAARw/dJ_HjXgyH5A/s320/DSC03679.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252210377404615346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                                I have sunglasses now...I'm good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZ1klBL4I/AAAAAAAAASA/eRiYfWHkLwI/s1600-h/DSC03680.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZ1klBL4I/AAAAAAAAASA/eRiYfWHkLwI/s320/DSC03680.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252210736075190146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                    Getting her teeth cleaned.  Holding "Mr. Thirsty"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZg49KUZI/AAAAAAAAAR4/dPZlc-M1dqc/s1600-h/DSC03685.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOZg49KUZI/AAAAAAAAAR4/dPZlc-M1dqc/s320/DSC03685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252210380767908242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                                                         Waiting on x-rays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOaHwg-xbI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-3VpBNad_1s/s1600-h/DSC03681.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOaHwg-xbI/AAAAAAAAASQ/-3VpBNad_1s/s320/DSC03681.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252211048517125554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                          That was easy...and I get a goody bag!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-8155379864654512610?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/8155379864654512610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=8155379864654512610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8155379864654512610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8155379864654512610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/10/ashlyns-first-dentist-visit.html' title='Ashlyn&apos;s First Dentist Visit'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOb2wppjOI/AAAAAAAAASg/KCvSSUJHuvs/s72-c/DSC03672.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-8109396905641512657</id><published>2008-10-01T07:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T08:35:39.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Great Girls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOORKjoRggI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/KJqieU-7IEY/s1600-h/DSC03643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOORKjoRggI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/KJqieU-7IEY/s320/DSC03643.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252201200993010178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, I guess I will just start with the oldest pictures.  I feel like I have so much to catch up on.  But I am guessing that is just how it is going to be around here for awhile.  I will just blog when I get a free minute.  We made the mistake of mentioning to Ashlyn several weeks ago that we were planning ski trip for this winter.  Three year olds are so cute in their inability to grasp the concept of time.  Ashlyn figured that if we were going on a ski trip that she would be a helper and get ready.  So she did.  She got a stool and climbed up to get the ski suit out of the very back of the closet and got dressed.  When she came down the stairs dressed like this I laughed so hard.  This little girl is so cute!  As you can tell from the picture, she was so proud of herself for getting dressed for skiing all by herself.  She only stayed in the ski suit for about 5 minutes because it was about 95 degrees outside.  Although it will be awhile before she can actually wear it, we do have a ski trip planned for this winter.  I am so excited to go back to Reno and catch up with friends and take Ashlyn skiing for the first time at the&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOSuAopH8I/AAAAAAAAARA/w5i67ldywv8/s1600-h/DSC03632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 326px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOSuAopH8I/AAAAAAAAARA/w5i67ldywv8/s320/DSC03632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252202909586235330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; same place that I learned to ski.  I can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn started school several weeks ago at at new place.  She loves it and is having a blast.  She came home the first day saying that she learned about the letter A and that apples and alligator both start with A along with her name.  I was quite impressed.  She is now learning the letters by sight and learning to write the letters.  She is really growing up.  She absolutely loves school and does very well.  At her new school she goes Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday.  They didn't have an opening for Tuesday, Thursday.  It has been difficult for me to be away from her so much, but the positive to it is that she takes a nap at school now and when she comes home she has me all to herself because Kenley is napping.  It has worked out well.  I cannot believe that she is going to be in Pre-K next year.  Wow, time flies.&lt;br /&gt;   Kenley is still just as sweet as she can be.  She is our little snuggle bug.  She just lays her head on my shoulder.  Still loves to be held which can be very tiring.  I know that people think that I hold her too much (and I do) but I will only get to hold her for a short time.  Too soon she will be grown up and I will long for these times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOU6X9aXBI/AAAAAAAAARQ/FPsshqB7THw/s1600-h/DSC03638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOOU6X9aXBI/AAAAAAAAARQ/FPsshqB7THw/s320/DSC03638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252205321029049362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She has also started to climb the stairs.  She has been playing at the bottom of the stairs for several weeks now.  She just stands there and pats on the steps..so cute.  It was keeping her entertained for 15-20 minutes at a time...not anymore.  She crawled up one step the other day and that was all it took.  She climbed the entire flight of stairs.  She has gotten to be quite good at it in the few days since she has learned.  Now we have to teach her how to come down.&lt;br /&gt;She is still having physical therapy twice per month and it is going pretty well.  We have had x-rays done of her neck and everything came back normal so that is good. We are still working on stretching her neck out.  She is still very tight on her left side and screams when it is stretched because it is painful.  We are hoping that this will loosen up soon.&lt;br /&gt;Kenley is crawling everywhere and has been starting to cruise around the furniture.  I cannot believe how fast this first year has gone and we are about to be planning her first birthday party!&lt;br /&gt;Julia is doing well.  She has had a rough first six weeks in school adjusting to America, being moved and new classes mid grading period.  She was really nervous about taking a Pre Calculus test yesterday.  This was a class that she was move into because she was doing so well in Algebra II.  She is the only sophomore in PreCal!  She was so nervous that she would do poorly on the test.  I told her I wanted her to try her hardest to study for the test and then we would talk about options after the test.  We studied hard all weekend and Monday night and....she got an 87!!!!!  I was so proud of her.  So now we can move on to the 2nd six weeks and start fresh.  She is such a bright girl and is just a joy and a blessing to our family.&lt;br /&gt;Ken and I will be leaving on our anniversary trip this weekend and I have no idea where we are going.  All I know is that we are flying.  I can't wait to get away, but it will be difficult (as it always is) to be away from my girls.  Thank you Nana for coming to help with them this weekend.  I know they will be in good hands.  Stay tuned next week for the recap of where we went....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-8109396905641512657?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/8109396905641512657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=8109396905641512657' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8109396905641512657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8109396905641512657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/10/okay-i-guess-i-will-just-start-with.html' title='Three Great Girls'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SOORKjoRggI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/KJqieU-7IEY/s72-c/DSC03643.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-3421912889900239197</id><published>2008-09-11T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T19:41:14.717-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Willkommen Julia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SMnVgq-2_aI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F5mEZQ6UlO0/s1600-h/CIMG0120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SMnVgq-2_aI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F5mEZQ6UlO0/s320/CIMG0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244957998320123298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our little family of four has undergone a crazy and wonderful change in these past few days.  I will start at the beginning...&lt;br /&gt;Ken was contacted many months ago by CCI or Center for Cultural Interchange about possilbly hosting a foreign exchange student.  He agreed to have them send him the information by mail.  When I picked up the mail several days later I saw the pictures of several hundred kids and read all about it.  I told him that he was crazy.  I mean, what was he thinking?  Here we are with a three year old and a 6 month (at the time).  How in the world could we include another child in our home and take care of them?  I threw all of the paperwork in the trash and we never talked about it again...&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to Sunday afternoon.  We arrived home after helping a friend with his animals and immediately received a phone call from CCI.  We were informed that they had a 15 year old girl from Germany that needed a new host family because of an unfortunate situation.  They preferred to keep her at the high school that she was attending so as not to make things any more traumatic than they were.  The CCI representative told us to not feel pressured...they would find her another home.  In the mean time, she would be staying in Sherman and be driven for two hours to school each day.  She has to be at school at 7 am, so she had to get up at 4 something to make it on time.  We informed CCI that we couldn't do it because we had small children.  They said that would be fine.  After we got off the phone we decided to pray about it.  If it was meant to be, we asked that God would make it clear to us.  They had four other families that they would be calling to try and take her.  If it wasn't meant to be for us to have her, we prayed that one of the other families would jump at the chance.  Several hours later, we called the representative back and asked what the outcome was of the other phone calls.  None of the other families had accepted.  Okay, I thought.  Maybe God has something in store for me that I was not planning on.  I asked.  He answered.  So we agreed to become a temporary host family for her while CCI located a permanent family to house her for the rest of the school year.  We were told that it shouldn't take any longer than two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;We picked Julia up from a friends house on Monday evening.  We took her to dinner that night and just talked about her time here in the US and what she did at school.  It didn't take long for us to learn that she is an absolute joy to be around.  Ashlyn was so taken with her too.  The first thing Ashlyn did when we got home that night was sit down and watch a Disney movie with her.&lt;br /&gt;Ken and I talked A LOT about it over the next day and discussed all of the pros and cons of what it would take to have Julia here for the entire year.  After lots of discussion and prayer, we decided that if she was willing to put up with us not being the typical host family (believe me, there is nothing typical about a three year old throwing a temper tantrum and a 10 month crying all evening because she is not being held while a 15 year old is trying to do school work) then we would do everything that we could to make it work for her to stay here with us.  We didn't want her to have to be shipped off to yet another family (she had already been at three homes in four days) and all I could think about was how I would feel if my daughter were on the other side of the world in a foreign country.  I would want someone to take care of her and know that she was safe.  Although I couldn't convince her mother of this, I knew that we were safe.  I knew that as long as she was with us she would be taken care of.  So we talked with Julia on Tuesday night and all decided that she would be staying with us until the end of the school year.&lt;br /&gt;It has been crazy around here trying to get everything and everyone adjusted to this new change, but I have to say it has been so much fun and so much more enjoyable than I ever imagined.  We are looking so forward to having her here and being a part of her life and helping her to learn about our culture while we learn about hers (Ken is constantly asking her about how things are in Germany).  Ashlyn is absolutely in love with her and told Ken last night that she doesn't want her new friend to leave.  She wants to stay with us for a long, long time and then we will take her back to her parents house.  She asks everyday where her friend is.  "She is in school.  She has to go to school everyday,"  I tell her.  She will get it soon.&lt;br /&gt;So that is our little family of...five.  Always Rushing.  We love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-3421912889900239197?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/3421912889900239197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=3421912889900239197' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3421912889900239197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/3421912889900239197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/09/willkommen-julia.html' title='Willkommen Julia'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SMnVgq-2_aI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F5mEZQ6UlO0/s72-c/CIMG0120.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4853943595133910247</id><published>2008-09-04T07:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T08:06:37.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kenley's 9 Month Portraits</title><content type='html'>Kenley is 9 months old and just as sweet as she can be. She still loves her mommy more than anything, but I have figured out that if we send her blanket wherever she goes then she can survive being away from me for a period of time. I guess we just have kids that love blankets. Her newest game is taking things out of boxes, cabinets, etc. She just gets an item out, chunks it behind her and moves on to the next item. It is quite amusing but keeps me busy cleaning everything up. Here are pictures of our little Kenley Lael at 9 months. Enjoy..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3ZQjzAeI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ZknAPRY5xA0/s1600-h/0013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3ZQjzAeI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ZknAPRY5xA0/s320/0013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242180504596447714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3ZUgXY8I/AAAAAAAAAOY/ueac6zX0C-Y/s1600-h/0016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3ZUgXY8I/AAAAAAAAAOY/ueac6zX0C-Y/s320/0016.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242180505655796674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3Zn3sGoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2Y8X6WrNZEQ/s1600-h/0043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3Zn3sGoI/AAAAAAAAAOo/2Y8X6WrNZEQ/s320/0043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242180510853896834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_2GQU0TNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/fqAh6S5EfHs/s1600-h/0002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_2GQU0TNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/fqAh6S5EfHs/s320/0002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242179078604475602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4853943595133910247?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4853943595133910247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4853943595133910247' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4853943595133910247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4853943595133910247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/09/kenleys-9-month-portraits.html' title='Kenley&apos;s 9 Month Portraits'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SL_3ZQjzAeI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/ZknAPRY5xA0/s72-c/0013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-6023266905199108111</id><published>2008-08-27T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T13:24:33.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Checkup, Haircut and Catch-up</title><content type='html'>It has been several weeks since I have blogged.  It seems like I have so much to catch up on.  Kenley had her 9 month checkup last week and she is doing great.  She weighs 19 lbs 12 oz and is 28 1/2 inches long.  She is charting at 75% for  both height and weight and somewhere around 25% for head circumference :)...she is a Rushing.  I was so excited to tell the pediatrician that she started rolling over and crawling and that she was really catching up  with milestones.  I  just knew he was going to say,  "Great!  We don't have to worry about the  Torticollis."  But he didn't say that.  He said that Kenley still has about a 5 degree tilt that he thought would be corrected by now with ECI working with her.  He wants her to go see a pediatric ophthamologist to make sure that there is nothing wrong  with her vision that makes her tilt and he ordered a neck x-ray for her to make sure that her vertebrae check out.  So...we will be doing that in the coming weeks.&lt;br /&gt;She has been cutting teeth like mad lately.  There is a constant fountain pouring out of her mouth.  Her teeth are coming in completely out of the normal order which I think is so funny.  I think her top incisors will be the last ones to come in.  That should be interesting :)  I looked in her mouth the other night and could see seven (yes, seven) teeth that are just about to come through.  I could actually see all of the teeth under the surface.  I have never known a kid to cut that many teeth at once.  She finally  had one break through on the bottom last night.  Woo hoo!  Six more to go.  Here  is a picture of Kenley  being cute pulling up on her toy basket.  Just a side note...she is wearing pajamas that Ashlyn wore when she was crawling around and pulling up on things at our house in Reno.  It brings back so many memories :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWz2mX8KuI/AAAAAAAAAOA/VKjlqkPwAUo/s1600-h/DSC03558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWz2mX8KuI/AAAAAAAAAOA/VKjlqkPwAUo/s320/DSC03558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239291492110707426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been having to pull Ashlyn's hair back lately because her bangs are getting long again.  While fixing her hair the other day, I noticed a small clump of really short hairs.  "Ashlyn," I said.  "Did someone cut your hair with a pair of scissors?"  "Yes," she politely answered. "Who?" I asked.  "I did!" she smiled.  I then asked her when she did it to which she answered, "While I was watching Giselle" (her name for the Disney movie Enchanted).  I couldn't help but laugh.  I don't think I would have been laughing had it been more hair...I have heard horror stories from other mothers of three year old girls.  Anyway, I tried multiple times to get a decent picture of the haircut.  If you look closely at her hair (after laughing at the look on her face) in the top right corner, you will see the small clump of hairs that Ashlyn decided needed a trim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWtVpJGLhI/AAAAAAAAANw/YZF2aq0FLew/s1600-h/DSC03572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWtVpJGLhI/AAAAAAAAANw/YZF2aq0FLew/s320/DSC03572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239284328848305682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I though that this fall would be a good time to enroll Ashlyn in her first group activity.  I was deciding between dance and gymnastics...we went with gymnastics.  I think that it is something that Ashlyn will really enjoy.  She is in a class with two of our neighbors and absolutely loves it.  This is the only picture that I have of her in the class.  They are doing their stretches.  She is in the little blue tank top with her back to the camera.  I know, not a good picture at all, but I am a proud mom...that's my baby out there in that big kid class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWtWAIoXRI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ikdDjeNT_xo/s1600-h/DSC03582.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWtWAIoXRI/AAAAAAAAAN4/ikdDjeNT_xo/s320/DSC03582.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239284335020367122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A couple of weeks ago I got to go away for the weekend on a scrapbook retreat to catch up on all of the pictures we have of these girls.  Ken stayed home with both girls.  He is so great to just take stuff like this on with no question of having help.  People ask him, "Who is coming to help you?"  "No one," he tells them.  He just does his thing.  Gets them in their little  dresses and takes them both to church on Sundays and everything.  I am so blessed to have a husband that does such an awesome job at being Daddy.  Here is a picture that he wanted me to post.  Kenley doesn't get very many bottles, so when the time came to give her one, Ashlyn was very excited to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs4wD3abI/AAAAAAAAANI/uwEC_-n53AM/s1600-h/DSC03542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs4wD3abI/AAAAAAAAANI/uwEC_-n53AM/s320/DSC03542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239283832489208242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn decided to get dressed up  a few nights ago and put on a concert.  She sang her rendition of A Whole New World (the theme song from Aladdin).  It was absolutely hilarious.  If I can add the video clip that we have of her later I will.  It was precious.  Here she is singing her little heart out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs57iPgoI/AAAAAAAAANY/ZV95-auUEeo/s1600-h/DSC03549.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs57iPgoI/AAAAAAAAANY/ZV95-auUEeo/s320/DSC03549.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239283852749275778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs8wUEGwI/AAAAAAAAANg/KOYmsFUmr4o/s1600-h/DSC03552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs8wUEGwI/AAAAAAAAANg/KOYmsFUmr4o/s320/DSC03552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239283901276625666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We have a little ceremony at church at the end of each summer called Turning of the Leaves.  It is where the kids get recognized for accomplishments that they have made in their class.  Ashlyn has learned that the Bible is God's written word and that there are two parts, and old testament and a new testament.  They get to put leaves on a tree to show that they have learned these things.  She was very excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs9LeBGRI/AAAAAAAAANo/4rRHLFNpEHM/s1600-h/DSC03562.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWs9LeBGRI/AAAAAAAAANo/4rRHLFNpEHM/s320/DSC03562.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239283908566128914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hopefully I will be able to keep up with blogging more often in the coming weeks with Ashlyn starting school soon.  But for now I am playing catch up with all of the recent photos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-6023266905199108111?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/6023266905199108111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=6023266905199108111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6023266905199108111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6023266905199108111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/08/checkup-haircut-and-catch-up.html' title='Checkup, Haircut and Catch-up'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SLWz2mX8KuI/AAAAAAAAAOA/VKjlqkPwAUo/s72-c/DSC03558.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-1769132389836819264</id><published>2008-08-11T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T15:56:26.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girl On The Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SKDCRqL7JjI/AAAAAAAAAMs/2i0lX1aOIxE/s1600-h/DSC03539.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SKDCRqL7JjI/AAAAAAAAAMs/2i0lX1aOIxE/s320/DSC03539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233396375642383922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It has been almost two weeks since I predicted that it would be about a month until Kenley crawled.  What is it about kids always having to make a liar out of their parents?  I could hardly believe my eyes this morning when she started taking those first wobbly movements forward.  At first it was just one and she would sit back up.  Then she would make two strides and sit back up.  Now just a few hours later she is able to crawl six or eight strides to get something she wants.  Those of you that know Kenley know that this is an absolutely liberating day for me.  She has only cried when I have set her down once or twice today because now she knows she can move if she wants to.  It is so exciting to see her look at something that she wants and actually go get it.  Way to go Kenley!  Here is some footage of our Little Kenley Lael on her first day of crawling.  Go get 'em little girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d73d36e888ef8519" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd73d36e888ef8519%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331466727%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D31D1770112033E6FFFE61677F24D6B0845E59778.15CA6EA30172D008EA8A84CF06571192047B3BDA%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd73d36e888ef8519%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSCkwyNV71X_GjTVwghpL3qGI3IY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd73d36e888ef8519%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331466727%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D31D1770112033E6FFFE61677F24D6B0845E59778.15CA6EA30172D008EA8A84CF06571192047B3BDA%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd73d36e888ef8519%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DSCkwyNV71X_GjTVwghpL3qGI3IY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although it pales in comparison to today's accomplishment, yesterday was Kenley's first time to roll over from her back to her tummy.  I wasn't sure if it "counted" since she used the leg of a coffee table as an aid.  But today she has done it several more times without assistance so I will mark it down.  Kenley had physical therapy for the second time last week.  This is the second time that she has made marked progress right after a PT session.  I am thinking she may not need it anymore, but they qualify children in six month increments so we will continue to have sessions.  I am so proud of her for the accomplishments in the past days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-1769132389836819264?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d73d36e888ef8519&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/1769132389836819264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=1769132389836819264' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1769132389836819264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1769132389836819264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/08/girl-on-go.html' title='Girl On The Go'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SKDCRqL7JjI/AAAAAAAAAMs/2i0lX1aOIxE/s72-c/DSC03539.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-1629859514216349028</id><published>2008-07-31T13:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:24.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Texas Weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIkWeARjMI/AAAAAAAAALs/WJ1zavUM18U/s1600-h/DSC03518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIkWeARjMI/AAAAAAAAALs/WJ1zavUM18U/s320/DSC03518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229282085760502978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIkWPiXzlI/AAAAAAAAALk/UbeiISNqfJU/s1600-h/DSC03517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIkWPiXzlI/AAAAAAAAALk/UbeiISNqfJU/s320/DSC03517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229282081876987474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The temperature has been hovering right around 105 lately.  That didn't stop Ashlyn from picking this  outfit to wear yesterday afternoon.  There is no telling a three year old that it is too hot to wear a fluffy winter coat and rubber boots.  Shelly and I just sat there trying not to crack up laughing at her.  She was so serious about picking these clothes out.  She tried on several pairs of pants and a couple pairs of shoes before deciding on this combination.  She wore it for about five minutes before becoming convinced herself that it actually was a little too hot to keep this on.  The weather in Texas is crazy...but not that crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIm8CDoLTI/AAAAAAAAAMU/b0lcURaWbV4/s1600-h/DSC03486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIm8CDoLTI/AAAAAAAAAMU/b0lcURaWbV4/s320/DSC03486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229284930116660530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIm8ObfMXI/AAAAAAAAAMc/o04aauQfBHo/s1600-h/DSC03510.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIm8ObfMXI/AAAAAAAAAMc/o04aauQfBHo/s320/DSC03510.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229284933437960562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenley is doing great.  In the last week she has  learned how to get to her hands and knees from her tummy.  She can also get to a sitting position from her tummy as well.  I would guess that she is a month or so from   crawling.  She can scoot backwards pretty well, but cannot master the forward motion. I am looking forward to the crawling days.  We are working on learning to pull up to a standing position.  She loves to stand up.  That seems to be when she is happiest (other than when her mommy is holding her).  She has become quite the chatterbox too, always saying mamama, dadada or bababa.  She is so cute talking to herself in the car or in her bed.  Ashlyn is still the one that makes her laugh the most.  I love watching them play together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-1629859514216349028?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/1629859514216349028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=1629859514216349028' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1629859514216349028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/1629859514216349028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/07/crazy-texas-weather.html' title='Crazy Texas Weather'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SJIkWeARjMI/AAAAAAAAALs/WJ1zavUM18U/s72-c/DSC03518.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-8088860181457535853</id><published>2008-07-22T19:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:24.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Princess Obsession</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIaSWEhUjkI/AAAAAAAAALY/Yrqln8ff3A0/s1600-h/DSC03482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIaSWEhUjkI/AAAAAAAAALY/Yrqln8ff3A0/s400/DSC03482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226025325478317634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;To say that Ashlyn likes Disney princesses is the understatement of the year.  She breathes Disney princesses.  Everything is princess.  She has to eat with a princess spoon in the morning out of a pink bowl.  She has a hand-me-down nightgown robe that she wears around the house...it is her wedding dress.  She wears pink plastic high heels everywhere.  She tells me that I have to be the Grand Duke (from Cinderella) and come find her after she loses one and put it on her foot to see if it fits.  She believes in her heart that she is Cinderella.  EVERYTHING is princess.  Consequently, several people that know Ashlyn bring her little princess things.  She is always more than excited to receive these little gifts.  Today our neighbor brought her several sheets of Disney princess stickers.  She was ecstatic.  The above picture is what she did with them.  She just can't help herself.  How cute is that?  There are also stickers randomly stuck to other objects throughout the house.  I bought her a princess nightgown today that came with a free wand.  She walked around the house singing Bippidy Boppidy Boo and saying that she was changing Kenley into a sheep.&lt;br /&gt;Ken watched both girls tonight so that I could go out to dinner with Shelly and have some "me" time.  Thank you so much, Ken.  I needed it badly.  He took both girls to run some errands.  He said that Ashlyn yawned in the back seat and said, "Now that's the sound of someone who is tired!"  She is so funny.&lt;br /&gt;Kenley is continuing to make progress.  Today she got to a sitting position from her hands and knees for the first time.  Woo hoo!  The exercises that the PT showed me are paying off.  She is getting more mobile by the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-8088860181457535853?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/8088860181457535853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=8088860181457535853' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8088860181457535853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8088860181457535853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/07/princess-obsession.html' title='Princess Obsession'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIaSWEhUjkI/AAAAAAAAALY/Yrqln8ff3A0/s72-c/DSC03482.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7708211519442935584</id><published>2008-07-20T12:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:25.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Eight is Great!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOeyYwbj8I/AAAAAAAAAKw/atf9j6qJBvU/s1600-h/P7202978.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOeyYwbj8I/AAAAAAAAAKw/atf9j6qJBvU/s320/P7202978.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225194581156138946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kenley was eight months old yesterday. I cannot believe the time is going by so fast. It seems like just yesterday she was so tiny. This month for Kenley has brought things like rolling over, feeding herself rice puffs, separation anxiety, eating big girl food and just in the last few days she has started to try to get on her hands and knees from a sitting position although we are not there yet. I have thought recently about putting her in a Mother's Day Out program this fall to give her some practice at being away from me. I always said that I wanted a little Mommy's girl and I got exactly what I wished for. She cannot stand to be out of my sight. Very sweet, but very tiring.  We changed the position that we place her in the crib, car and tub in an attempt to encourage her to look to the left (to help with the Torticollis).  She has been getting better about looking that way.  She was so cute sleeping last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOfTGMv32I/AAAAAAAAALA/XcHGhFQQhNY/s1600-h/DSC03460.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOfTGMv32I/AAAAAAAAALA/XcHGhFQQhNY/s400/DSC03460.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225195143110319970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a big day today with Ashlyn's friends.  We walked out to get the mail and it turned into a little party including:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;PLAYING IN THE WATER HOSE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzMKdsOI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/yt9wAgMK6hI/s1600-h/DSC03472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzMKdsOI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/yt9wAgMK6hI/s400/DSC03472.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225177002769494242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A BEAUTY CONTEST&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzYlRXuI/AAAAAAAAAKA/aDPEGypKms0/s1600-h/DSC03475.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzYlRXuI/AAAAAAAAAKA/aDPEGypKms0/s400/DSC03475.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225177006103158498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;GOING TO THE CAR WASH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzuPMmCI/AAAAAAAAAKI/FCjGiCAqdws/s1600-h/DSC03476.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzuPMmCI/AAAAAAAAAKI/FCjGiCAqdws/s400/DSC03476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225177011916150818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;GOING TO A CAR SHOW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzxrj-ZI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/UNm4orIxUQ8/s1600-h/DSC03480.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOOzxrj-ZI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/UNm4orIxUQ8/s400/DSC03480.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225177012840429970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We followed all of this up with some swimming.  Whew...there is never a lack of things to do around here. Tonight starts vacation Bible school for Ashlyn.  She is very excited about going to the same one she went to last year.  Naps are over and so is my break.  I will leave you with a picture of our sweet girls. There is nothing that melts my heart quite like these two playing together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOgiLqrzPI/AAAAAAAAALQ/2tkFdhUo1mI/s1600-h/P7202974.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOgiLqrzPI/AAAAAAAAALQ/2tkFdhUo1mI/s400/P7202974.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225196501787725042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7708211519442935584?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7708211519442935584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7708211519442935584' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7708211519442935584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7708211519442935584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/07/eight-is-great-and-so-is-three.html' title='Eight is Great!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SIOeyYwbj8I/AAAAAAAAAKw/atf9j6qJBvU/s72-c/P7202978.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-5011192198176058749</id><published>2008-07-17T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:26.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy July</title><content type='html'>Wow. It feels like forever since I have posted. Things have been pretty crazy around here. We had a great July 4th weekend. My whole family came to visit and we just hung out here at the house and then headed to the Kacsmaryks to watch the fireworks. It was nice to not have an agenda and have to go anywhere. We got to swim and Ken and Joe went to ride bikes. Ken doesn't get to do that very often anymore so the weekend was a nice treat for all of us. Ashlyn decided over that weekend that she wanted to drink coffee. I let her have some (about six parts milk, 1 part coffee, 1 part creamer). I thought she would love it, but she only took a couple of sips of it. She did inform me after I gave it to her that the proper place to drink the coffee was at the coffee table. Here is a picture of her with her first cup of "coffee".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIORjxII/AAAAAAAAAJI/xmUwiFfr2TE/s1600-h/DSC03440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIORjxII/AAAAAAAAAJI/xmUwiFfr2TE/s320/DSC03440.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224004185206539394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The girls and I loaded up and headed to Nana's house last week to help out after her surgery. It was a busy week, but lots of fun. Ashlyn always has a blast at Nana and Paw Paw's house. Due in no small part to the fact that Paw Paw just happens to come home everyday with a surprise for Ashlyn. Something small, but always something.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got back Kenley had her first physical therapy appointment with ECI. It went well although Kenley cried the whole time. She was not overly excited about the stretches.  The physical therapist recommended that we get  an x-ray done of her left shoulder blade and neck to make sure that the problem is only muscular.  She said that she could feel some popping in her back during the exercises. Adding that to the fact that Kenley cried more than most babies, she just suggested to be on the safe side.  So we will be getting an x-ray soon.  Her next PT appointment is in one month.  Hopefully we will be able to show them some progress in her development by then.  She is still sweet and cute.  Here is a picture of her just being cute.  (Shelly, please note the bow.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kQK6aoUI/AAAAAAAAAJw/QSJ5ocwFJo4/s1600-h/DSC03459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kQK6aoUI/AAAAAAAAAJw/QSJ5ocwFJo4/s320/DSC03459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224004321743118658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I started to feel terrible all of a sudden a couple of days ago and I had no idea why.  My symptoms were getting worse by the hour.  I felt like I had a terrible case of the flu, but didn't have any other symptoms besides terrible joint pain and stiffness and fever with chills.  Long story short, I went to the doctor yesterday morning to find out that I have mastitis.  Didn't know that you could get mastitis after nursing for eight months, but FYI, you can.  And I don't recommend it.  It is absolutely miserable.  Today is my first day of feeling better, not quite up to par, but I at least I feel like I can function again.&lt;br /&gt;Shelly was a lifesaver yesterday when I couldn't do much but just lay around and be miserable.  She brought Avery over and watched all the girls while I went to  the doctor and got my medicine.   Then she watched them again while I slept yesterday afternoon.  I have to tell you, the playdates with Avery and Kenley are getting better and better.  They just had a great time yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIeJ78-I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/E9hfKHdhlns/s1600-h/DSC03444.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIeJ78-I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/E9hfKHdhlns/s320/DSC03444.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224004189469537250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIvk-tXI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Ra5qtI8Y0wo/s1600-h/DSC03446.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIvk-tXI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Ra5qtI8Y0wo/s320/DSC03446.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224004194146366834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so they didn't have a great time at all.  They have both hit the separation anxiety phase.  Well, Kenley has been in that phase since birth, but it has gotten worse.  If I am around and Kenley is not with me she is heartbroken and if Shelly is around and Avery is not nearby, she is heartbroken.  They screamed we laughed.  But I was done laughing last night.  I wanted to pull my hair out.  But today is another day.&lt;br /&gt;Kenley got her first big girl food last night.  Rice-A-Roni with chicken and diced carrots.  She liked it all, but the struggled with the carrots.  We will probably still keep working on it though.  She got a huge smile on her face when I gave her the chicken as if to say, "Wow, something with flavor!  Keep it coming!"  Here is a picture of her first real meal.  Typical Kenley she has to look very serious for the camera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIlZCO9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/-MeAWL4Yw2s/s1600-h/DSC03451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIlZCO9I/AAAAAAAAAJg/-MeAWL4Yw2s/s320/DSC03451.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224004191411911634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ashlyn wanted me to take her picture too.  I asked her to take her plate to the sink after dinner yesterday and she looked at me with a very serious look on her face and said, "But Mommy, I am sixteen years old!"  This is just a quote from The Little Mermaid, but it is still funny coming from the mouth of a three year old.  She has watched way to much tv the past few days.  But that is what happens when a stay at home mommy gets sick.  Thanks for being such a trooper, Bug.  We love you so!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kJO-0tAI/AAAAAAAAAJo/fj7FtaHByh4/s1600-h/DSC03455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kJO-0tAI/AAAAAAAAAJo/fj7FtaHByh4/s320/DSC03455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224004202576262146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-5011192198176058749?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/5011192198176058749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=5011192198176058749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5011192198176058749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5011192198176058749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/07/busy-july.html' title='Busy July'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SH9kIORjxII/AAAAAAAAAJI/xmUwiFfr2TE/s72-c/DSC03440.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-8492093521030939522</id><published>2008-07-01T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:26.759-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kenley's Visit With ECI</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGrn5Zh3WCI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Ay5KavvmOrk/s1600-h/DSC03412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGrn5Zh3WCI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Ay5KavvmOrk/s320/DSC03412.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218238091553626146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;    As some of you may know, Kenley was diagnosed with Torticollis at her 1 month checkup.  All it means is that the muscles in her neck are tight and her head is tilted from being in that position in utero.  Kenley has always held her head tilted to the left and although it has gotten a lot better, she still prefers to hold it slightly tilted and rotate (or look) to the right.  At the 1 month checkup, her pediatrician just said to keep and eye on it.&lt;br /&gt;  At the 6 month checkup a new pediatrician noticed her head tilt and also commented that she has some facial asymmetry.  He mentioned that the right side of her face is fuller than the left.  Her right cheek is fuller, her right eye is bigger, and her right ear sticks out more than her left.  I had noticed it, but thought that was just how God made her.  He said that she would probably be fine, but suggested that I call Early Childhood Intervention (ECI) if I was concerned.  Well, after that checkup I began to worry that her inability to roll over was somehow linked to the Torticollis.  I also started looking at all of the pictures that I had taken of her since birth and began to notice just how tilted her head was and also noticed the growing asymmetry in her face in later pictures.  I decided to call ECI several weeks ago  to ease my mind.  We set up an appointment for them to come evaluate her this morning.&lt;br /&gt;  I have been looking quite forward to the visit from ECI.  Until Kenley rolled over last Thursday, I was becoming more worried that the Torticollis was affecting her development.  So I was ecstatic to see her not just roll over once, but continue to do it several times last week.  It still just makes my heart smile to see her roll over.&lt;br /&gt;  ECI sent three people out to evaluate Kenley this morning...the ECI coordinator, an RN, and a physical therapist.  The RN evaluated vision, hearing and other developmental skills for Kenley.  Then the physical therapist took some time to play with her and take a look at her neck.  After 1 1/2 hours of constant stimulation and exercises we finally had the results.  The short version is that Kenley is mostly average or above average in most areas of development.  If you want the details they are below:&lt;br /&gt;Adaptive (or ablility to use to tools to get something or "plan"): functional age 8 months&lt;br /&gt;Cognitive (or ability to understand cause and effect): functional age 9 months&lt;br /&gt;Fine motor skills: functional age 7 months&lt;br /&gt;Gross motor skills: functional age 7 months&lt;br /&gt;Expressive language (actual "talking"): functional age 7 months&lt;br /&gt;Receptive language (body language): functional age 7 months&lt;br /&gt;Personal/Social: functional age 9 months&lt;br /&gt;  All this means is that for the most part Kenley is developing at or ahead of schedule.  The only area that she is lacking in is the rolling over department.  She is tracking as a 6 month old there.  Because of this and the muscles in her neck being tight, the pediatrician qualified her for physical therapy from ECI.  So Kenley will have physical therapy for her Torticollis twice a month until the PT feels that she can cut down to once a month and then do away with it completely.&lt;br /&gt;  I asked them if the facial asymmetry would be able to be corrected.  They explained that the muscle and tissue development in the face was probably permanent, but that  the physical therapy would prevent it from getting worse.  I was a little sad at first, but as the day has gone on here are my thoughts:  Kenley's right cheek is bigger than her left one, but her cheeks are so soft and kissable,  thank you God.  Her right eye is bigger than her left one, but she can see this beautiful world out of both eyes, thank you God.  Kenley's right ear sticks out further than her left one, but she can hear her daddy sing to her, me tell her I love her, and her sister laugh out of both ears, thank you God.  God has given us this beautiful healthy little girl and we are so thankful that she is here with us.  She is absolutely beautiful with a tender and sweet personality.  She is perfect to us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-8492093521030939522?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/8492093521030939522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=8492093521030939522' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8492093521030939522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/8492093521030939522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/07/kenleys-visit-with-eci.html' title='Kenley&apos;s Visit With ECI'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGrn5Zh3WCI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Ay5KavvmOrk/s72-c/DSC03412.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2926065118386613511</id><published>2008-06-26T12:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:27.527-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kenley On A Roll</title><content type='html'>Kenley is 7 months old now and has not rolled over...ever...even once...doesn't even try.  She just lays there and cries.  Ashlyn rolled over from tummy to back the day she turned 3 months old and from back to tummy the very next day.  I know that all kids are different, but I can't help but be a little worried that Kenley was behind.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I was over at Shelly's house having a playdate with her and our old roommate Christina and her little boy Cason.  Christina is a physical therapist so I thought I would bring up Kenley's rolling over issue to her.  She showed me how to do some exercises with Kenley to teach her how to roll over by herself.  We worked with her for awhile yesterday and I came home with some new exercises and new hope that Kenley might roll over before her 16th birthday. &lt;br /&gt;After breakfast this morning I put her on her mat and started working with her doing the exercises that Christina showed me.  I practiced with Kenley for about 30 minutes before taking a little break.  After taking a shower, I came back and worked with her for another 15 minutes or so before her morning nap.  Shelly came over for lunch today and I told her that I think if I keep practicing with Kenley that she could be rolling over in the next couple of days.  I worked with her for about 5 minutes after lunch moving her legs for her showing her that she could do it and then.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp-hKxTwI/AAAAAAAAAII/iPinazwrOE8/s1600-h/DSC03432.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp-hKxTwI/AAAAAAAAAII/iPinazwrOE8/s320/DSC03432.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216270053689872130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp_GUhOjI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/kLpigP_Z4BM/s1600-h/DSC03430.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp_GUhOjI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/kLpigP_Z4BM/s320/DSC03430.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216270063662873138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp_Ya0vII/AAAAAAAAAIY/zcOGTmp9AsE/s1600-h/DSC03431.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp_Ya0vII/AAAAAAAAAIY/zcOGTmp9AsE/s320/DSC03431.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216270068521155714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHE DID IT!!!!!  She finally rolled over by herself.  I was so excited.  It absolutely made my day to see my little Kenley rolling over like a big girl.  It was very encouraging to me to see her master this feat.  I will blog more next week about why I am so encouraged about this...so stay tuned.  Anyway, I put her on her tummy several more times and she rolls over every time now.  She probably rolled over 7 or 8 times.  I am so proud of her.  Go Kenley!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.  Thank you Christina for all of your help yesterday.  This wouldn't have happened without you showing me how to help her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2926065118386613511?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2926065118386613511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2926065118386613511' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2926065118386613511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2926065118386613511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/06/kenley-on-roll.html' title='Kenley On A Roll'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SGPp-hKxTwI/AAAAAAAAAII/iPinazwrOE8/s72-c/DSC03432.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-6511193877503899499</id><published>2008-06-21T06:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-21T06:40:12.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ear Confections</title><content type='html'>There has been a cold going around here for several weeks.  Avery got it first, then Kenley, then Shelly, and finally Ashlyn.  Somehow I escaped it so far.  I had Kenley at the doctor last week with her first ear infection.  We got her started on antibiotics and she is doing much better.  Ashlyn was getting over the cold when she started telling me that her ear hurt.  So...back to the doctor we went.  Sure enough, she has an ear infection too.  You would never be able to tell that she is sick.  The guy at the pharmacy was watching her act like she always does, bouncing off the walls and said, "Well, at least we know this medicine isn't for you!".  I informed him that he was mistaken.  "She has a terrible ear infection, "  I told him.  "She is just the happiest kid on the planet."  He said, "Wow, I wonder what she is like when she is well!"  That is our Ashlyn...always happy.  She is so in love with life.  I  hope she never loses that.  She has gotten in the habit of making up excuses for why we should say her bedtime prayers instead of her.  Last night she let us know that she couldn't say her prayers because she has an ear confection.  Trying not to crack up laughing we told her that she still needed to say her prayers and ask God to make her ear confection to get better.  She keeps us laughing all the time.  What a blessing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-6511193877503899499?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/6511193877503899499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=6511193877503899499' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6511193877503899499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/6511193877503899499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/06/ear-confections.html' title='Ear Confections'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4845948422547634133</id><published>2008-06-15T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:28.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summertime Fun</title><content type='html'>Summer is here.  Ken has been traveling and working quite a bit so it has been me and the girls just having fun.  Ashlyn is a princess (just ask her, she will tell you) and Kenley is growing by leaps and bounds.  Kenley had her 6 month check up last week.  She weighs in at 18 lbs 5 oz and is 27 inches long.  She falls in the 50% for length and the 70% for weight, so that is why she appears so "soft".  She still hasn't rolled over yet.  It is almost funny to me now.  She sits up completely unsupported and has been for several weeks now.  But she can't muster up the will to roll over.  One of her latest things she does to entertain herself is stick her tongue out to feel her two new teeth.  She thinks it's fun.  She is so cute looking around with her tongue sticking out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVcw_o5xmI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Gx2xnlLjwng/s1600-h/DSC03363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVcw_o5xmI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Gx2xnlLjwng/s320/DSC03363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212174140537685602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been hanging out with Shelly and Avery a lot lately.  Kenley and Avery have actually started to interact.  They pretty much just smile at each other, but they seem to enjoy watching each other.  They were having a big time playing with magazines the other day.  It is funny to see how different their personalities are:  Avery is calm and content to read whatever magazine she is given.  Kenley is a typical little sister, "I want it now and you better give it to me.  Oh, and if you have something first, I will want that too.  And you better give it to me or I will make you pay!"  It will be interesting to watch them grow up together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVeDaeAWyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/-kGRXecqbpw/s1600-h/DSC03384.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVeDaeAWyI/AAAAAAAAAGo/-kGRXecqbpw/s320/DSC03384.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212175556489009954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kenley has been eating solids for awhile and we have learned that she loves the little rice puffs when she is getting fussy.  It's actually us that love the rice puffs when she gets fussy.  Rice puffs are a wonderful thing.  Rice puffs can buy 5-10 minutes of time that I can use to finish my meal, clean the kitchen or any other tasks going on.  We LOVE rice puffs...so much so that we have created a song about them (big surprise, huh Mom)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVfLG73G8I/AAAAAAAAAGw/RS7EFVFloAc/s1600-h/DSC03396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVfLG73G8I/AAAAAAAAAGw/RS7EFVFloAc/s320/DSC03396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212176788196105154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An Apple A Day (Sort Of)....Ashlyn wanted an apple with her dinner last night.  Well, let me back up a little...I started cutting the crust off of her sandwiches a long time ago when her little mouth was so small.  She would eat a sandwich and all she could get was crust before she was full.  That is my disclaimer for why I started the whole crust-cutting-off routine that I said I would never do.  Anyway, I think she has decided that the crust or skin on anything is yucky.  She told us last night when eating the apple, "Baby, that's bad," while pointing to the peel of the apple.  The following is one of those memories of my child's youth that I think are so cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVgejtVJJI/AAAAAAAAAG4/7D8tTUTlaE4/s1600-h/DSC03404.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVgejtVJJI/AAAAAAAAAG4/7D8tTUTlaE4/s320/DSC03404.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212178221848929426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that has been our last few weeks.  Just hanging out, having fun and enjoying these two beautiful girls that God has given to us.  You may wonder why I don't have very many pictures of Ashlyn in this post.  That's because we can barely get a picture of her anymore.  She has lost the concept of remaining still while you take a picture.  She is a mess.  She is always moving and always talking.  Sometimes it makes me bonkers.  Thank you Shelly for keeping me sane this week on just one of those days.  You are a great friend.  I was able to get a picture of Ashlyn with Kenley in the yard.  We are so blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFViDdiIsXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/aUx0Rns1Gas/s1600-h/DSC03375.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFViDdiIsXI/AAAAAAAAAHA/aUx0Rns1Gas/s320/DSC03375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212179955358151026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFViD55YIMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Ocw3f8nL4SI/s1600-h/DSC03381.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFViD55YIMI/AAAAAAAAAHI/Ocw3f8nL4SI/s320/DSC03381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212179962971824322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4845948422547634133?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4845948422547634133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4845948422547634133' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4845948422547634133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4845948422547634133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/06/summertime-fun.html' title='Summertime Fun'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SFVcw_o5xmI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Gx2xnlLjwng/s72-c/DSC03363.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7874533944215837438</id><published>2008-06-06T12:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:31.677-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Portraits</title><content type='html'>It was portrait time for both girls yesterday. Ashlyn had her 3 year pictures taken and Kenley had her 6 month pictures. Time goes by so fast. I can't believe my little Ashlyn is three years old now and the time with Kenley is going even faster. Here are their portraits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWdUZ-SMI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cj8zPbNfxD4/s1600-h/0156.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWdUZ-SMI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cj8zPbNfxD4/s320/0156.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859874468710594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWU0Z-SHI/AAAAAAAAAFw/wyjoPx4VYK8/s1600-h/0141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWU0Z-SHI/AAAAAAAAAFw/wyjoPx4VYK8/s320/0141.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859728439822450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVEZ-SII/AAAAAAAAAF4/qXu4xlDGqjA/s1600-h/0147.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVEZ-SII/AAAAAAAAAF4/qXu4xlDGqjA/s320/0147.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859732734789762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVEZ-SJI/AAAAAAAAAGA/uaIaFwikj5E/s1600-h/0155.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVEZ-SJI/AAAAAAAAAGA/uaIaFwikj5E/s320/0155.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859732734789778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVEZ-SKI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A_IMrS9D6gM/s1600-h/0158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVEZ-SKI/AAAAAAAAAGI/A_IMrS9D6gM/s320/0158.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859732734789794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVUZ-SLI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/HYAP3GeOLBk/s1600-h/0157.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWVUZ-SLI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/HYAP3GeOLBk/s320/0157.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859737029757106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV2UZ-SCI/AAAAAAAAAFI/A9Sxl7t9ed4/s1600-h/0087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV2UZ-SCI/AAAAAAAAAFI/A9Sxl7t9ed4/s320/0087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859204453812258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV2kZ-SDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/6kfW4IRh964/s1600-h/0091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV2kZ-SDI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/6kfW4IRh964/s320/0091.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859208748779570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV20Z-SEI/AAAAAAAAAFY/aRyDRMb2CXs/s1600-h/0111.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV20Z-SEI/AAAAAAAAAFY/aRyDRMb2CXs/s320/0111.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859213043746882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV3EZ-SFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/R8Q2dbjgkdc/s1600-h/0136.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV3EZ-SFI/AAAAAAAAAFg/R8Q2dbjgkdc/s320/0136.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859217338714194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV3UZ-SGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Rq9F1B0xhvE/s1600-h/0139.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmV3UZ-SGI/AAAAAAAAAFo/Rq9F1B0xhvE/s320/0139.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208859221633681506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVBkZ-R9I/AAAAAAAAAEg/jnOnJH7xr7U/s1600-h/0039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVBkZ-R9I/AAAAAAAAAEg/jnOnJH7xr7U/s320/0039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208858298215712722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVB0Z-R-I/AAAAAAAAAEo/v8ZMBZHoRV4/s1600-h/0044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVB0Z-R-I/AAAAAAAAAEo/v8ZMBZHoRV4/s320/0044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208858302510680034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVCEZ-R_I/AAAAAAAAAEw/ZrXYiKU6MZE/s1600-h/0053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVCEZ-R_I/AAAAAAAAAEw/ZrXYiKU6MZE/s320/0053.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208858306805647346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVCEZ-SAI/AAAAAAAAAE4/fFj6t0W_NIY/s1600-h/0061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVCEZ-SAI/AAAAAAAAAE4/fFj6t0W_NIY/s320/0061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208858306805647362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVCUZ-SBI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jpwZowdewbM/s1600-h/0066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmVCUZ-SBI/AAAAAAAAAFA/jpwZowdewbM/s320/0066.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208858311100614674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUaUZ-R4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/qcn6PHNEn8E/s1600-h/0003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUaUZ-R4I/AAAAAAAAAD4/qcn6PHNEn8E/s320/0003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208857623905847170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUakZ-R5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/K8FuKW7hOvk/s1600-h/0006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUakZ-R5I/AAAAAAAAAEA/K8FuKW7hOvk/s320/0006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208857628200814482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUakZ-R6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/a0zGMd6VYXI/s1600-h/0009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUakZ-R6I/AAAAAAAAAEI/a0zGMd6VYXI/s320/0009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208857628200814498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUa0Z-R7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/9Jx9kR1w-r4/s1600-h/0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUa0Z-R7I/AAAAAAAAAEQ/9Jx9kR1w-r4/s320/0033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208857632495781810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUbEZ-R8I/AAAAAAAAAEY/XEpXvn_f3Gg/s1600-h/0037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmUbEZ-R8I/AAAAAAAAAEY/XEpXvn_f3Gg/s320/0037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208857636790749122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7874533944215837438?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7874533944215837438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7874533944215837438' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7874533944215837438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7874533944215837438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/06/portraits.html' title='Portraits'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SEmWdUZ-SMI/AAAAAAAAAGY/cj8zPbNfxD4/s72-c/0156.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7587660463780524296</id><published>2008-05-26T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:32.459-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Water Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtq1qfx3UI/AAAAAAAAADw/vhXx2D6Zc9M/s1600-h/DSC03344.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtq1qfx3UI/AAAAAAAAADw/vhXx2D6Zc9M/s320/DSC03344.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204871264529931586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The temperature in Texas has been on the rise.  The weather for swimming has definitely arrived.  Yesterday was Kenley's first time to go swimming.  After the first shock of being submerged in the cool water, she relaxed and really enjoyed her time in the water.  She was  kicking her legs and loving the cool water.&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn is back in the water too.  She is back to being her fearless self.  This summer we will teach her how to swim without floaties.  She is a little over confident in the water because of wearing the floaties, but I think she will learn quickly.  We are so glad to have a way to cool off in this heat and still enjoy being outdoors.  Here are some pictures of Kenley's first swim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtqA6fx3SI/AAAAAAAAADg/ES_FBRfESzQ/s1600-h/DSC03335.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtqA6fx3SI/AAAAAAAAADg/ES_FBRfESzQ/s320/DSC03335.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204870358291832098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtqBKfx3TI/AAAAAAAAADo/SSqcKG4auLs/s1600-h/DSC03338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtqBKfx3TI/AAAAAAAAADo/SSqcKG4auLs/s320/DSC03338.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204870362586799410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7587660463780524296?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7587660463780524296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7587660463780524296' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7587660463780524296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7587660463780524296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/05/water-baby.html' title='Water Baby'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SDtq1qfx3UI/AAAAAAAAADw/vhXx2D6Zc9M/s72-c/DSC03344.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4184593934159912105</id><published>2008-05-16T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:32.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Different Strokes</title><content type='html'>Last night was a perfect example of how completely different our two girls are. We have a swing on our back porch that Ashlyn has loved since the day we bought it for her when she was about 15 months old. Of late, she has had to share it with her baby sister because it calms Kenley down when she is fussy. She has been cutting her first tooth so she has spent a lot of time in it these past few days. Kenley had trouble napping yesterday so as soon as she got in the swing she took the opportunity to snooze for awhile. Here is Kenley in the swing.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SC2kPJ_9E9I/AAAAAAAAADA/1VnjFPE0R0E/s1600-h/DSC03304.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SC2kPJ_9E9I/AAAAAAAAADA/1VnjFPE0R0E/s320/DSC03304.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200993724971946962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After Kenley woke up from her nap, Ashlyn wanted to take a turn in the swing.  She had been running around the yard barefoot, but when it came time for her turn in the swing she went inside and grabbed her shoes and handed them to her daddy.  When asked by the neighbors who were over for dinner what she was going to do, she answered, "I'm going to kick the ceiling!"  They laughed thinking she was just making no sense....I knew better.  My only rule for this "game" that Ashlyn and her daddy have made up is that she has to wear shoes.  The screams of delight began soon after she started to swing.  This child has absolutely no fear of anything.  Here is a picture of Ashlyn's turn in the swing (FYI-the picture is turned the correct way...note Ken looking at her).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SC2l7Z_9E_I/AAAAAAAAADQ/iNPsgoZom2A/s1600-h/DSC03310.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SC2l7Z_9E_I/AAAAAAAAADQ/iNPsgoZom2A/s320/DSC03310.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200995584692786162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love how different these girls are.  They are so much fun.  Kenley is so calm and Ashlyn is everywhere and constantly keeps everyone entertained.  Ashlyn and Ken went to church the other night while I stayed home to get Kenley to bed.  Someone asked Ashlyn at church if her mommy was there.  She said, "No, she didn't come."  Then they asked if her daddy was there.  She said, "No, he didn't come either."  The man said, "Really?"  Ashlyn got a huge smile on her face and replied, "Nooo, I'm just drama!"  She is hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another story about Ashlyn that Mom asked me to be sure and post.  We have had to teach Ashlyn how to use the restroom in a horse stall because sometimes there is no access to a bathroom at the barn with the horses.  She was very proud of herself for learning this.  Well, about a week ago we were over at the neighbors house eating dinner.  All of the adults were in the house.  Jacob and Ashlyn were outside playing in the Little Tykes house that they have in the backyard.  I looked up and saw my daughter running stark naked across the yard covered in mud.  After cracking up laughing I asked Ken to go outside and lay down the law with her.  He called her over and was going to ask her what in the world she was thinking.  He couldn't get it out before she assured him, "Don't worry Daddy.  I've already tee-teed in the house."  I sit here laughing about this even still.  She had used the restroom in the little playhouse in the backyard.  There is never a dull moment with her.  I wish I had a picture of that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4184593934159912105?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4184593934159912105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4184593934159912105' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4184593934159912105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4184593934159912105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/05/different-strokes.html' title='Different Strokes'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SC2kPJ_9E9I/AAAAAAAAADA/1VnjFPE0R0E/s72-c/DSC03304.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-210137582507203994</id><published>2008-05-05T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:33.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Sleeping Beauties</title><content type='html'>There is nothing quite as precious as a child sleeping.  We snapped these pics last night when we came up to check on the girls before heading to bed ourselves.  They are such a picture of innocence....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB-wkaDHo8I/AAAAAAAAACw/kD7cU6qsFY4/s1600-h/DSC03293.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB-wkaDHo8I/AAAAAAAAACw/kD7cU6qsFY4/s320/DSC03293.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197066634523026370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB-wkaDHo9I/AAAAAAAAAC4/FSNyaVWIFLE/s1600-h/DSC03301.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB-wkaDHo9I/AAAAAAAAAC4/FSNyaVWIFLE/s320/DSC03301.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5197066634523026386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-210137582507203994?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/210137582507203994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=210137582507203994' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/210137582507203994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/210137582507203994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/05/our-sleeping-beauties.html' title='Our Sleeping Beauties'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB-wkaDHo8I/AAAAAAAAACw/kD7cU6qsFY4/s72-c/DSC03293.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-2451680873235891900</id><published>2008-05-04T12:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:34.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ashlyn's 3rd Birthday Party</title><content type='html'>We had a luau for Ashlyn's 3rd birthday party yesterday afternoon.  We have all been very excited about it for several weeks now.  She has been talking about her party for days.  Ashlyn's big gift this year was a trampoline...just as much for us as it is for her.  She had no idea that she was getting it.  Daddy, Mommy and PawPaw hurried to put it together during naptime yesterday while Nana went all out decorating the inside and back porch for our luau theme and Kenley enjoyed the beautiful weather in the baby swing outside.  It worked out perfectly that Ashlyn woke up right after everything was set up.  We kept her inside until the first kids got here for the party and then took her out to see her new trampoline.  She was so excited!  She jumped on it for hours last night. &lt;br /&gt;    We had Hawaiian pizza followed by the cake and then showed her slideshow that I make for her every year.  The slideshow viewing was comedy in itself because Ashlyn and all the little boys at the party (there were no other girls there) lined up in front of it and laughed hysterically at every picture that came up...which made all the adults laugh at them.  Ken got it all on video...what a great memory.  The party was a blast.  It could not have been more beautiful weather.  Kenley did awesome just taking everything in.&lt;br /&gt;    Ashlyn's presents included a baby stroller (she has already taken her babies on a walk this morning), some new princess apparel (everything is Disney princess now), new Crocs, a princess hippity hop, a new dress, a puzzle, The Little Mermaid movie (which she loves because she is convinced that her daddy now works for Ariel with Chicken of the Sea), two new baby dolls, and some new pajamas.  She loves everything. &lt;br /&gt;    It was such a fun birthday this year because this is the first year that she has actually gotten it. I think she really understood that this day was HER birthday party.  A little bittersweet for me because for some reason I feel like the 3rd birthday is their last "baby" birthday.  She will have "big kid" birthdays from now on.  I can't believe my little baby girl is three years old.  She is growing up so fast right before our eyes and it makes my heart sing and break at the same time.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PraDHo7I/AAAAAAAAACo/e-1l0KvX1v4/s1600-h/DSC00599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PraDHo7I/AAAAAAAAACo/e-1l0KvX1v4/s320/DSC00599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196608258433328050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PrKDHo6I/AAAAAAAAACg/QxGUs-POT1U/s1600-h/DSC03292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PrKDHo6I/AAAAAAAAACg/QxGUs-POT1U/s320/DSC03292.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196608254138360738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PqqDHo4I/AAAAAAAAACQ/RMbDNiRXWQY/s1600-h/DSC03286.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PqqDHo4I/AAAAAAAAACQ/RMbDNiRXWQY/s320/DSC03286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196608245548426114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4Pq6DHo5I/AAAAAAAAACY/CrYJrdgH-uQ/s1600-h/DSC03287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4Pq6DHo5I/AAAAAAAAACY/CrYJrdgH-uQ/s320/DSC03287.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196608249843393426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-2451680873235891900?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/2451680873235891900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=2451680873235891900' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2451680873235891900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/2451680873235891900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/05/ashlyns-3rd-birthday-party.html' title='Ashlyn&apos;s 3rd Birthday Party'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SB4PraDHo7I/AAAAAAAAACo/e-1l0KvX1v4/s72-c/DSC00599.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-7057868286965602859</id><published>2008-04-16T10:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:34.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Did It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SAY4Xcp_r-I/AAAAAAAAABg/fpERph7wD6M/s1600-h/DSC03223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SAY4Xcp_r-I/AAAAAAAAABg/fpERph7wD6M/s320/DSC03223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189897596071555042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, this may not seem like a big deal to a lot of you, but for me I accomplished something that I have had anxiety about since having Kenley...so much anxiety that I have not done it until today.  I went to the store and bought groceries by myself with both girls.  I know, you are probably laughing, but this is really a big deal for me.  I have been so nervous about being at the grocery store with a cart full of food and having some catastrophe like Ashlyn having an accident and Kenley having a meltdown and me not having any idea how to handle it.  And not to mention that I had no idea where I was going to put all of the food with two kids and a diaper bag riding in the cart.  But I woke up this morning optimistic that I could accomplish this feat that millions of mothers of two (and 3, 4 and 5) do everyday.  I got one of those giant carts with the toddler seats in back.  Kenley sat in her bucket in the top and Ashlyn rode in the toddler seat.  I was so proud of my two girls for how well they did.  Kenley got a little fussy when she started to get sleepy and then went right to sleep.  My little superstar almost-three-year-old sat right in her seat the whole time and just talked to me about her day.  She is the best kid.  So anyway, I am so proud of myself for doing that.  I feel such a sense of accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a scrapbook retreat coming up this weekend that I am sooo excited about.  It is actually Shelly's birthday present from Matt.  There are three of us going away for the weekend to get scrap happy!  I can't wait.  I am so excited to just go hang out, but I am also pretty nervous.  This will be my first time to be away from Kenley overnight.  I think that she will do okay with Ken, but she doesn't have a good track record of being away from her mommy.  I have left her for short periods of time with friends to run errands only to come back and find that she has been crying the entire time.  As soon as I take her back from whoever was watching her and hold her she stops crying.  It is really quite pathetic.  She is just a Mommy's girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SAY8AMp_sDI/AAAAAAAAACI/hsPY5CuW8V4/s1600-h/DSC03221.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 257px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SAY8AMp_sDI/AAAAAAAAACI/hsPY5CuW8V4/s320/DSC03221.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189901594686107698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we are going to start Kenley on rice cereal today or tomorrow.  I was set on not doing this until it was absolutely necessary.  I wasn't planning on starting her for another month, but I am thinking that it might help her sleep through the night.  She was doing really well sleeping there for awhile, but the past several nights she just can't make it.  The night before last I was up with her three times and the last time just didn't have it in me to walk her all the way back upstairs.  So this is what we looked like when Ken woke up that morning.  My sweet little Kenley Lael.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ashlyn also has a new word..."Lasteryear": Defined as any day that was before today....very cute.  She has been using it frequently lately.  I know it's improper grammar, but as any mom knows there are a few things that your kids say that you just don't want to correct because it is so cute and all too soon they will be saying it properly and you will long for the days when they spoke in that toddler language.  So for now I will enjoy Ashlyn talking to me about what she did "lasteryear".  How we love her so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-7057868286965602859?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/7057868286965602859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=7057868286965602859' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7057868286965602859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/7057868286965602859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-dit-it.html' title='I Did It!'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/SAY4Xcp_r-I/AAAAAAAAABg/fpERph7wD6M/s72-c/DSC03223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4005660401852543826</id><published>2008-04-04T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:34.761-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Latest Looks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_bj5b33dUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/0pQ1epioSlk/s1600-h/DSC03218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_bj5b33dUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/0pQ1epioSlk/s320/DSC03218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185582596837832002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_bj5r33dVI/AAAAAAAAABY/ezEi5XNVw3c/s1600-h/DSC03211.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_bj5r33dVI/AAAAAAAAABY/ezEi5XNVw3c/s320/DSC03211.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185582601132799314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Ashlyn has begun the stage of wanting to dress herself.  For the most part, we just let her pick out her pajamas.  But tonight she was going to the babysitting co-op at the church so that Ken and I could go on our date night.  She wanted to pick her own clothes out so here is what she looked like.  I had to get a picture because she is just so stinking cute.  She was so proud of her outfit.&lt;br /&gt;  Kenley has begun the stage of sucking her fingers.  I am now convinced that there is a genetic factor to finger and thumb sucking because we have now worked very hard on two kids to get them to take pacifiers and it didn't work with either one.  Ashlyn sucks her thumb and Kenley has opted for the first two fingers on her left hand.  And she holds her fingers in her mouth by shoving her right hand over her left to make sure they don't fall out.  Quite amusing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now...the latest "Ashlynism"...her little neighbor friend was over this afternoon for a few minutes while we were getting ready to go.  They were upstairs playing in the game room and having normal 3 year old conversation.  Insuring Jacob's safety while at our house Ashlyn told him, "Now Jacob, you know that if you cut your spleen open, then you will die."  While laughing out loud, I thought to myself, "You have got to be kidding me...my two year old just used the word spleen....properly.  What in the world!?"  She is absolutely adorable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4005660401852543826?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4005660401852543826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4005660401852543826' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4005660401852543826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4005660401852543826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/04/latest-looks.html' title='The Latest Looks'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_bj5b33dUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/0pQ1epioSlk/s72-c/DSC03218.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-4641823133940784386</id><published>2008-04-03T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T20:05:35.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebration of New Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_UNj733dQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/AfxJBPTWj6w/s1600-h/DSC03195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_UNj733dQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/AfxJBPTWj6w/s320/DSC03195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185065457005589762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_UNk733dRI/AAAAAAAAAAw/YlN7gEAG2nY/s1600-h/DSC03200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_UNk733dRI/AAAAAAAAAAw/YlN7gEAG2nY/s320/DSC03200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185065474185458962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  Our church had a Celebration of New Life this past Sunday.  They do a little slideshow with all of the babies that were born the previous year and present the parents with a book and a Bible for the babies.  So we borrowed a dress from Kenley's BFF, Avery and got all dressed up for the occasion.  I even got Ken to wear a pink tie.  He didn't like it, but I think it looked good on him!  Ashlyn got to wear a new pair of pink sparkle flip flops (her first pair) for church.  She doesn't quite know how to walk in them yet so they kept coming off all morning.  Here are a couple of pictures of the girls on Kenley's special day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-4641823133940784386?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/4641823133940784386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=4641823133940784386' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4641823133940784386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/4641823133940784386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/04/celebration-of-new-life.html' title='Celebration of New Life'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_UNj733dQI/AAAAAAAAAAo/AfxJBPTWj6w/s72-c/DSC03195.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3752374099685142144.post-5853421586110958833</id><published>2008-04-02T12:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T12:27:43.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always Rushing, But Found The Time</title><content type='html'>People keep telling me, "You have to create a blog so that everyone can keep up with what is going on and you can put pictures of the girls on there."  My response has always been, "Okay, I'll be sure and get to that in my spare time this week.  Somewhere between chasing my excessively energetic almost 3 year old, and entertaining my 4 month old."  By the time I get a spare minute in the evenings, I am not interested in creating a blog.  I just want to sit and talk to an adult and relax.  But today I have found the time.  I have been at my mom's for the past several days and Ashlyn is exhausted and Kenley is asleep in her swing.  I am anticipating having a quiet afternoon with Ken away on a business trip, so here I sit...creating our family blog.  I am excited to learn this new world of blogging and being able to keep our friends up on our family's happenings.  Not sure how often I will be able to keep it updated but for now, here we go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3752374099685142144-5853421586110958833?l=alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/feeds/5853421586110958833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3752374099685142144&amp;postID=5853421586110958833' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5853421586110958833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3752374099685142144/posts/default/5853421586110958833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://alwaysrushingaround.blogspot.com/2008/04/always-rushing-but-found-time.html' title='Always Rushing, But Found The Time'/><author><name>Theresa Rushing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07749358242621554921</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_JKqjQv4EaJI/R_QZIL33dPI/AAAAAAAAAAg/Oz8FfpGUOxE/S220/DSC02771.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
