<?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-492339947084866032</id><updated>2011-08-25T13:14:15.542-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nebeker Shenanigans</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-4205759640568447343</id><published>2010-03-03T09:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T17:02:01.600-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Keenan!</title><content type='html'>It's hard to believe it, but yesterday we celebrated Keenan's 4th birthday! He's such a joy to have in our family and everyday I'm grateful for the kind-hearted little boy he is. The time is going by so quickly, but it's really fun to watch him grow and develop over the years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a cold and was feeling kind of crappy so I let Keenan decorate his own cake this year. It was really cute and he had fun. I think I'll actually give the boys the option to decorate their own cakes from now on. Keenan decided to draw Optimus Prime from the Transformers. So funny. He was so proud of his cake. And he should be. . . don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46dOuml5rI/AAAAAAAAAG8/x0UnxOEf0hY/s1600-h/078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461875891136178" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46dOuml5rI/AAAAAAAAAG8/x0UnxOEf0hY/s320/078.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46dOAgZ9yI/AAAAAAAAAG0/itBY_1PJ8hE/s1600-h/077.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461863517157154" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46dOAgZ9yI/AAAAAAAAAG0/itBY_1PJ8hE/s320/077.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had his party at Pizza Hut and despite some lack of preparedness and efficiency on their part, it was a really fun night. There were lots of friends and family to share Keenan's special night with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c3VBwR8I/AAAAAAAAAGs/TYMrKau-8ZM/s1600-h/223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461473888749506" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c3VBwR8I/AAAAAAAAAGs/TYMrKau-8ZM/s320/223.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c2tnjENI/AAAAAAAAAGk/wWVjdv6FIjA/s1600-h/219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461463309848786" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c2tnjENI/AAAAAAAAAGk/wWVjdv6FIjA/s320/219.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad and step-mom came; along with my step-sister, Kirsten; her husband, Adrian; and their son, Dominiq.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c2HXNGhI/AAAAAAAAAGc/SevIW2isi_w/s1600-h/216.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461453040753170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c2HXNGhI/AAAAAAAAAGc/SevIW2isi_w/s320/216.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyrel's family also made the trip to celebrate with Keenan, including Dianne, Ralph, Erin, Taylor, Sage, and Tylee (and of course their baby brother who hitched a ride in Erin's belly.) ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c1qAbJCI/AAAAAAAAAGU/-7hMqEi6GgM/s1600-h/214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461445160576034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c1qAbJCI/AAAAAAAAAGU/-7hMqEi6GgM/s320/214.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were also many of my close friends whose children have become friends with my boys. They included Aubrey Nebeker (no relation. Just a weird coincidence) and her girls, Zoe and Ruby; and TJ Faddis and her daughter, Shelby, and son, Casey. It was really nice to have everyone there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keenan said he had a really good birthday and I had fun sharing this special night with so many friends and family. We were only sad not to be able to spend the night with Tyrel, but we know how much he wanted to be there and he left a very cute video message for Keenan on his facebook page wishing him a happy birthday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday my big 4-year old!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c1NciIqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/nrIiVLKnY0M/s1600-h/212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444461437493846690" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46c1NciIqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/nrIiVLKnY0M/s320/212.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-4205759640568447343?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/4205759640568447343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=4205759640568447343' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4205759640568447343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4205759640568447343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2010/03/happy-birthday-keenan.html' title='Happy Birthday Keenan!'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/S46dOuml5rI/AAAAAAAAAG8/x0UnxOEf0hY/s72-c/078.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-8414236359814809032</id><published>2010-02-24T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T14:10:38.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Catching Up</title><content type='html'>So I realize that it's been eight months since my last post. In my defense, I told everyone at the beginning that I'm terrible at keeping up with this kind of thing. But, a lot has happened since my last blog so I thought maybe I should catch up.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, most of you will already know everything I am posting about by now, but since I plan to use this site as my journal (I'm even worse at journals than blogging) I'm going to include it all anyway. Read it or don't, it's up to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, where to begin . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last may -I think it was memorial day weekend- we took our truck in to the dealership for a recall. We also brought the Sentra so we could go do stuff around the Murray area while we waited. Except, that never happened. Instead, I decided to "just look" at the Muranos that Tyrel had been trying to talk me into for a long time. The day ended by leaving our Sentra at the dealership and drving off in the nicest car I've ever had the privelage of driving. If you can feel lust for a car, I did. Is it terrible to be turned on more by your car than your husband? It had all the bells and whistles and then some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now fast forward to December OF THE SAME STINKING YEAR! It was the 12th of the month and Tyrel was, once again, working out of town. We had been invited to a Christmas party at one of my old high school friend's house in Brigham City. I was very excited because several of my old choir buddies who I hadn't seen since high school were going to be there. On that morning, I woke up and looked outside. The weather was nice, but I thought to myself, "I should check what the weather is going to do the rest of the day." But, being me, I lost that thought in the morning's chaos, trying to get my kids ready on time (which will never in my lifetime happen. I'm sure of it.) As we got into the car, later than I'd hoped yet again, I thought, "I really should go back in and check the weather conditions before we go." But, we were already leaving late so I ignored that little prompting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way there, I kept thinking, "You should turn around. You're going to wreck."&lt;br /&gt;But I still ignored it. "Puh-shaw!" I thought, "You're being paranoid."&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after passing the Morgan area, the weather started looking a bit foreboding, but still nothing terrible. I slowed the car to about 10mph below the speed limit and continued on, even when I got the feeling that I needed to pull over at an exit and just wait for a half hour or so. But, I did call my sister-in-law, Lisa, to ask how the weather was through the canyon up to Logan. I had decided I probablt wasn't going to risk dropping off the Christmas presents to them on this trip. I would just go to the party in Brigham City and possibly stay the night. The presents could wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very shortly after I called them to say I probably wasn't going to come, I passed the marker showing I was only 9 miles out of Brigham City. Suddenly, the roads got bad in a hurry. Honestly, I should have slowed down much sooner than I did, but I was stupidly determined to get to this party before the roads got too bad. I should have realized that they already were too bad. But before I could even think about it and adjust my speed, the car in front of me slammed on its brakes. I tried to stop, but just kept sliding forward. I quickly looked to my right to find the lane clear so I tried to swerve into it to miss the car. I think I did miss the car (but I really don't remember and it wasn't on the police report) but we slid off the road head-on into a concrete foundation for the port's sign (or whatever it was. It was big.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The entire front of my car was smashed in through the fire wall. Every air bag in my car deployed. It kind of looked like the inside of a jumpy castle. I didn't even know there were that many air bags. But most importantly, I turned around to find my kids crying, but perfectly fine, except for a very minor cut on Keenan's chin. It was only after that that I realized that I hurt everywhere! We were transported via ambulance just in case and they did a lot of X rays, but in the end, we were very lucky (not to mentioned watched over) to have nothing more than a broken pinky and some bruises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a lot of family members come to my rescue. Shane spent several hours at the hospital with my kids while I was in X ray. Then he took us to the airport the next morning to pick up Tyrel, whose job had flown him in after he found out. Erin came up from Woodruff to get us from there and take us all home. And even though I didn't end up needing them, I had several other family members who were packed and ready to come and get me and the boys within an hour after I wrecked. I am so lucky to have such an amazing family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that my children are alive and there are no major affects is the most important thing to me and I am grateful everday that we did not suffer more for my stubborness and refusal to listen to the promptings I had. HOWEVER, now that all is well and I can be thankful for my children, can I just say, "My car! My car! My beautiful car!" I had planned to grow old with it. I guess I'll have to settle for Tyrel. Dang my luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer Visitors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, now rewind back to the summer before the accident. My mom was able to fly up from Phoenix for the 4th of July weekend. I was really excited because distance and finances have really limited my ability to see most of my family. It was only the third time my mom has been able to see my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great weekend! We started by going to the Zoo, but got rained out about a half-hour after we got there. It was quite a rain! My mom and I pushed the kids in the stroller up all the hills running all the way and we were completely soaked when we made it back to my car (my beautiful car). But, it was kind of funny and we laughed the whole way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we just spent the weekend relaxing together. The boys and my mom and I made a holiday cake out of whipped cream, blueberries, and strawberries to look like the American flag. It was pretty cute and tasty. I think that will become a tradition for us. We enjoyed the 4th of July in the absolutely most amazing place to celebrate it. Evanston, Wyoming. I never would guess I would say anything like that about E town, honestly, with all the fireworks that just the normal citizens light off, compbined with the city's, it truly is the most spectacular 4th of July sky in the world (I have confirmation of this from two brothers in the military who have spent it all over the country.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the weekend was over, we were sad to see my mom go, but we were glad to have gotten the chance to see her again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the summer my little sister, Darbie who is the funniest person I know, (she's made me pee several times in the recent past. Really. I'm not ashamed to admit it) came up for a trip to Bear Lake. It was just her, me, and our kids who were all ages two and three. We thought it would be the best trip ever--a trip that would give our kids all the memories we had camping as kids. We were wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out, we hate camping when we are in charge. It's a whole crap load of work and not much relaxing. Plus, we were visited during the night by two skunks who were in love *wink *wink. I take full responsibility for that because it was my bright idea to leave the leftover dinner in the fireplace and burn it in the morning (hey, it was late and we were tired). So we provided the "lovers" with a romantic dinner and a private room (our fire pit) to "express their affection for one another." I've never heard what skunks sound like before, let alone what they sound like when they're "happy." Turns out, they sound a lot like an aroused man and his nagging wife. If Darbie and I hadn't had to pee so bad, it might have been funny, but we were stuck in our tent crossing our legs just waiting for them to leave so we could go to the bathroom. (I've kind of used the word "pee" a lot in one blog, huh?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up leaving one day early. I think the kids did have fun, though, which is important. We spent the next night at my house playing sleep over. It was really good to hang out with my sister again. We were kind of inseparable before I moved back to Wyoming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pre-school&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That fall, Keenan started pre-school for the first time. He absolutely loves it! His teachers inform me that he is one of their favorites because he is smart and he always listens to their directions and is nice to all the kids. Go figure. I don't know what I'm doing wrong at home, but it's good to know he is capable of being good. No, I'm kidding. He really is a good kid and I'm very proud of him. I love seeing all the papers and drawings he brings home. His little brother gets excited too. He gets excited to drop him off and pick him up and see Keenan's papers and hear about the letter of the week. Draiman knows all of Keenans' teachers and classmates' names. It has been a really fun experience for everyone and it gives Draiman some one-on-one time with mommy, which he's never had before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holidays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next came Halloween. Keenan was Raphael, which was very convenient because we had the costume already (I made Tyrel wear it. It was funny.) Draiman was the black Spiderman. I got the smallest costume I could find and still had to hem the pants and shorten the sleeves. I didn't have to adjust the mask though, Nebeker heads are huge. ;) I was a witch and Tyrel was a bleeding-face skeleton thing. It was a fun night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Halloween was Thanksgiving at my mother-in-law's. I love getting together with Tyrel's family. It's always fun with lots of laughs . . . and Shane's dutch oven potatos and deep-fried turkey were amazing! Okay, Shane, even though I'm sure you get the joke, it really was great. I was pleasantly surprised by your potatoes and I would eat them again without hesitating. Of course, if my considerate husband had just kept his mouth shut about the fact that I normally don't like dutch oven potatoes, I wouldn't have to say anything, would I Tyrel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so you already know how my Christmas started. With a bang, no pun intended . . . okay it was intended and really bad. But, after we recovered from the physical and financial injuries from the accident, we had a good holiday. We went to Rifle, CO to spend the week with my sister, Tuesday, and her family. The kids loved it and so did I. I love going places where the kids are constantly entertained by other kids. It's nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tyrel cooked most of Christmas dinner with my sister, so naturally, it was delicious! I think my sister's kids aren't used to his kind of cooking, though. Sometimes he forgets to be "kid-friendly" and my kids are just so used to it that they wouldn't know what to do with a normal dinner. Well, that's not true. Since Tyrel works all the time, they are stuck with my cooking a lot. That means grilled cheese sandwiches and soup, mostly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, overall, it was a really nice Christmas. The kids were very happy with Santa and so were Tyrel and I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The New Car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So having just totaled our car, we were in need of another. We both decided that although we liked the Murano (okay, I passionately adored it), it would be nice to not have the huge car payment that came with it. Plus, we didn't have the kind of down-payment for a new one that we'd used on the Murano. So, Tyrel found a really great '97 Ford Explorer. It's old, but was in unbelievably good condition. It only had 51K miles on it and used to be a company vehicle so it had all of its maintenance logs and had just been really well taken care of. With the little money we got back from insurance and some from our savings, we were able to buy it out-right, leaving us car payment-free. It's a nice feeling. Maybe nicer than the deep love I felt for the Murano. Kudos to Tyrel for finding it. He's really good to have around sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I absolutely have to blog about Valentine's day because it was sooooo surprising. We have never celebrated Valentine's Day in our entire relationship. Tyrel says it's because he loves me EVERYDAY, which is nice and I always agreed before we had kids. I didn't realize how important it would be to have a day to set aside just for you as a couple after your kids come along. But nonetheless, we've never done anything on this day. And we still didn't DO anything this year. But . . . he bought me a set of real pearls--necklace, bracelet, and earings! This is a really big deal because he not only doesn't do Valentine's Day, but he has sworn never to get me jewelry. Apparently I told him when we were first together not to bother because I just lose all my jewelry, but I have changed my mind since then and he has refused to adjust. So it was a really nice surprise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally . . . The Piece de Resistance . . . The Vasectomy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I debated whether or not to include this since it is kind of a personal decision and not something that everyone wants to hear about. But, it also embarasses my husband. When weighed out, the pleasure of doing so is greater than the disgust any of you may feel for reading about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been throwing around the idea for a long time and when I had some issues that forced me to forego our current method of birth control, we decided to finally bite the bullet and just get him snipped. We love our kids, but we know our limit. Not that we think everyone else's limit should be the same, but we know ours. We are content, the boys are content, and we, personally, don't have the patience for more kids. Plus, Tyrel would really like to eventually get a job that allows him to actually see his kids. If we have more, he'd be stuck in his job longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, last Thursday I took my husband in to get fixed. What a freakin' easy process! I know, I know, I wasn't the one who had to do it. But, if child-birth were as easy as a 20 minute trip to the doctors office and you just left with a slight limp and the need for frozen peas between your legs for a couple of days, we probably would have had another kid already. I have a friend who thinks we should have the vasectomy reversed and then done again. That way, we'd be even. Two for me and two for him. I kinda like that idea . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's it. I think I am caught up with all the major events from the past eight months. Plus, I've just written a novel, which is an accomplishment I didn't know I would do in my life. I should include photos but then this blog would probably overload the blogspot site and no one could read it. Maybe I'll follow up with the pics to go with the stories in a few days. (I promise, no vasectomy photos though.) Hopefully, I'll keep up a little better now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-8414236359814809032?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/8414236359814809032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=8414236359814809032' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/8414236359814809032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/8414236359814809032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2010/02/just-catching-up.html' title='Just Catching Up'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-5754327388529389322</id><published>2009-06-17T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T13:00:17.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorado Dinosaur Museum</title><content type='html'>The boys and I spent the last weekend in Rifle, CO to visit my sister, Tuesdey (Don't be confused. That's her name--Tuesdey.) She has two boys that are also 14 months apart, although they are now 7 and 8, but she relates so much to my crazy life. My boys love hanging out with their older cousins and finally getting to do rough, crazy boy stuff. I loved having two older boys to entertain mine so that I could have an adult conversation and watch some movies without interuption. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were there, we went to Grand Junction and went to a dinosaur museum. They had so much fun! They still talk about it and ask when they can go again. When that was done, we went to Chuck E. Cheese's and then to the movie "UP." It was a really full day, but so worth it because the kids were really well behaved and Keenan actually thanked me for "letting us do this stuff." What a great weekend! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some pics of the Dino Museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJxgPbvWI/AAAAAAAAAGE/ELnaxPeXAcc/s1600-h/Dino+Museum+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJxgPbvWI/AAAAAAAAAGE/ELnaxPeXAcc/s320/Dino+Museum+006.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348387147296259426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJxSX6SmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/tyLR6t0nqw8/s1600-h/Dino+Museum+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJxSX6SmI/AAAAAAAAAF8/tyLR6t0nqw8/s320/Dino+Museum+014.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348387143573719650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJw-rxz4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/rGDme6-Bfy8/s1600-h/Dino+Museum+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJw-rxz4I/AAAAAAAAAF0/rGDme6-Bfy8/s320/Dino+Museum+011.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348387138288340866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJwgSnwjI/AAAAAAAAAFs/9A03tX_MCsw/s1600-h/Dino+Museum+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJwgSnwjI/AAAAAAAAAFs/9A03tX_MCsw/s320/Dino+Museum+001.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348387130129760818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-5754327388529389322?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/5754327388529389322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=5754327388529389322' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/5754327388529389322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/5754327388529389322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/06/colorado-dinosaur-museum.html' title='Colorado Dinosaur Museum'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SjlJxgPbvWI/AAAAAAAAAGE/ELnaxPeXAcc/s72-c/Dino+Museum+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-5173179028649061196</id><published>2009-05-23T19:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T20:01:27.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Hair!</title><content type='html'>We've had quite a "hair-raising" week this week. (Pun completely intended.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, Tyrel has decided to sport a chicken-style mohawk. Every time he shaves his head he talks about it, but always shaves it off before the night is over. Well, this time it stayed. To my dismay, some tard at his job told him it is "awesome" and so now it is here to stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that isn't bad enough, he convinced the boys that they wanted their hair like his. This backfired though. Keenan, so sure that he wanted hair like his dad's, got his cut into a mohawk. Unfortunately, his excitement only lasted until he actually saw himself in the mirror. At that point, he immediately burst into tears and sobbed, "I don't want it! Take it off!" So, we shaved his whole head. He was slightly more tolerant of this new look, but still a bit sensitive about being bald. Although we tell him how cool it looks (and so should any of you who see him) he really looks like a leukemia patient . . . or a little like the albino from "The Davinci Code."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Draiman also got a hair cut, but I am the only one sad about it. He is not bald, nor does he have a mohawk. But . . . I love, love, love his long surfer hair and I had just gotten it exactly how I like it. Unfortunately, with the warmer weather he was always complaining about being hot and his hair was constantly matted with sweat so I cut it short. I don't even get sad when I get my own hair cut off, but it was really hard watching his locks fall to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post pictures of the new looks for all to view later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-5173179028649061196?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/5173179028649061196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=5173179028649061196' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/5173179028649061196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/5173179028649061196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/05/holy-hair.html' title='Holy Hair!'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-6590459301270881043</id><published>2009-05-11T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T09:35:55.887-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Draiman!</title><content type='html'>I'm a little late posting this, but Draiman's 2nd birthday was on the 2nd of May. It's official. I no longer have any babies in my house. Now it is filled with the joys and constant noise and trouble of two little boys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Draiman was a little sick so we didn't do anything big, but he had a good time anyway. As with all birthdays in our house, we started the day by making his cake. For months he has been asking for a Thomas the Train cake. I had even bought little cake toppers that would make it super easy. But . . . the day before his birthday he decided he really wanted a Spiderman cake. Good thing that's a super hero that I can actually draw! Despite the last minute change, it turned out okay and Draiman loved it (which is all that matters anyway).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQXWVs1wI/AAAAAAAAAFE/BvZZnRFCs8Y/s1600-h/Spidey+Cake2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQXWVs1wI/AAAAAAAAAFE/BvZZnRFCs8Y/s320/Spidey+Cake2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334602120684164866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQXFjbwBI/AAAAAAAAAE8/8vJc72koRAQ/s1600-h/Spidey+cake1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQXFjbwBI/AAAAAAAAAE8/8vJc72koRAQ/s320/Spidey+cake1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334602116178362386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night we had a simple celebration with just our family at home. We had cake and ice cream and Draiman got to open his present from us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQ8jWbN8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/bQ7pwIz3Hqc/s1600-h/Presents2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQ8jWbN8I/AAAAAAAAAFU/bQ7pwIz3Hqc/s320/Presents2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334602759832025026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQ8JzkK9I/AAAAAAAAAFM/levoy7b4-QM/s1600-h/Happy+Birthday+to+Draiman!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQ8JzkK9I/AAAAAAAAAFM/levoy7b4-QM/s320/Happy+Birthday+to+Draiman!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334602752974924754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next evening the grandparents came over and, to his joy and wonderment, Draiman got to open more presents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghR18aAogI/AAAAAAAAAFk/07riV7r6yRI/s1600-h/Hippo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghR18aAogI/AAAAAAAAAFk/07riV7r6yRI/s320/Hippo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334603745810489858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghR1jcgAWI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Eyk5uF0L7oA/s1600-h/Party1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghR1jcgAWI/AAAAAAAAAFc/Eyk5uF0L7oA/s320/Party1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334603739110048098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Spotten and Papa and Kelly for coming! Draiman loves his presents and it's always nice to have family so close to share times like this with us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-6590459301270881043?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/6590459301270881043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=6590459301270881043' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/6590459301270881043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/6590459301270881043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-birthday-to-draiman.html' title='Happy Birthday to Draiman!'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SghQXWVs1wI/AAAAAAAAAFE/BvZZnRFCs8Y/s72-c/Spidey+Cake2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-2465012086711369311</id><published>2009-04-17T16:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T18:03:48.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Easter Bunny, The Dentist, and Mr. Fix-it</title><content type='html'>It's been awhile since we've posted so I thought I'd throw it all into one great big blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Easter&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had a great Easter. The kids had an Easter egg hunt at Grandma's house with all of their cousins on the Nebeker side. It was really cute watching them tromp around in the snow looking for eggs. As always, I was so impressed at how well the older kids take care of and help the little ones. What good kids are in this family. I always feel lucky to be a part of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Saturday, we took the boys to the anual Easter Egg "Chase" at the ball parks. The police department provides the event every year, filling 8,000 plastic eggs with candy and spreading them out on each of the four fields. The kids gather at their designated field, according to age range, and when the police siren sounds they all take off in a big, chaotic frenzie and gather eggs. It kind of resembles a hoard of locusts flying over a crop devastating everything in their path. It takes an hour to get everyone organized and ready and then it is over in about 2 minutes after the siren goes off, but the kids all love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekkVMOzYcI/AAAAAAAAADs/2-eGm5EXXY0/s1600-h/EPD+Easter+Egg+Hunt1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325827980821488066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekkVMOzYcI/AAAAAAAAADs/2-eGm5EXXY0/s320/EPD+Easter+Egg+Hunt1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekkUmUMCkI/AAAAAAAAADk/ZukJg7-XSrI/s1600-h/Easter+Bunny.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325827970643528258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekkUmUMCkI/AAAAAAAAADk/ZukJg7-XSrI/s320/Easter+Bunny.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keenan didn't get very many eggs because he was too concerned about getting the pink and purple ones. That's my boy! Draiman only got some because Tyrel grabbed a couple for him. He was so excited by the kids running around like chickens with their heads cut off that he just ran and kept passing the eggs. Also, out of the hundreds of kids at the field that day, the newspaper asked if they could take his picture and it ended up on the front page! You can see his picture &lt;a href="http://www.uintacountyherald.com/fe_view_article_window.php?story_id=2192&amp;amp;page_id=72&amp;amp;heading=0"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Saturday night we dyed eggs. This was the first Easter since we've had the boys that Tyrel has been able to be home with us to dye eggs, so it was kind of special for our family. Draiman was too cute. Everytime we gave him a color, he piled every one of his eggs into it so they were stacked on top of each other. Some of the eggs didn't even touch the dye, and it overflowed onto the table!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SeklENEAedI/AAAAAAAAAEE/bR-8D3R3los/s1600-h/Dying+Eggs6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325828788498495954" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SeklENEAedI/AAAAAAAAAEE/bR-8D3R3los/s320/Dying+Eggs6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SeklD_0q3mI/AAAAAAAAAD8/26hx8OKnlB8/s1600-h/Dying+Eggs+5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325828784944504418" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SeklD_0q3mI/AAAAAAAAAD8/26hx8OKnlB8/s320/Dying+Eggs+5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SeklDu3Y7GI/AAAAAAAAAD0/oI-bEYnjGfU/s1600-h/Dying+Eggs+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325828780392508514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SeklDu3Y7GI/AAAAAAAAAD0/oI-bEYnjGfU/s320/Dying+Eggs+4.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Foolishly, I assumed that the boys would wake me up at the crack of dawn, as always to say that the sun was up, but instead, I woke up to the sound of little feet running around upstairs. (I'd like to note here that I've been trying without success for months to get the boys to go upstairs when they wake up in the mornings without waking me up and Keenan picks Easter to start.) So, I hurried and woke up Draiman and Tyrel and we went up to see their baskets and find the eggs that the Easter Bunny had hid. Then I made my traditional Easter breakfast quiche and took it over to my dad's to have breakfast with them. Tyrel got called in to work so we ended up spending the day there and had a barbeque that night with my brother and my dad and their families. It was a fun day and I'm grateful that we got to spend at least some of Easter with Tyrel this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Dentist&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keenan went to the Mt. Ogden Surgical Center yesterday morning to have an insane amount of dental work done for a three year-old. We woke up bright and early (actually, it wasn't bright at all. It was 5am and snowing) and headed for South Ogden. They let me stay with him to get the "giggle gas" until he fell asleep and then I had to wait outside while they started the IV and did the procedure. He did not like the gas at all. The anesthesiologist said it smelled like giraffe feet and that's why they have such long necks. Keenan thought it was funny later that day, but not so much at the time. It all went really well and he came out with five fillings, one pulpectomy (the equivelant of a root canal, but on baby teeth), and three caps. He hacked and gagged a bit when he was recovering from the anesthesia, but he's been perfect since. No pain, but it's easy to tell he needs some time to get used to the caps. He licks them and moves his lips over them a lot. I think we'll be cutting back on the sugar in his diet, though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mr. Fix-it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been getting itchy to redecorate the house a bit and have been telling myself that now is not the time to spend money frivolously. So, I was secretly overjoyed when I could not get the walls in my bathroom clean and when I realized that the trim was pulling away from the wall, not to mention the fact that I've never been able to get them clean since we moved in. I decided that this was reason enough to paint and get new trim. I went to Wal-Mart and bought some paint (on sale, Tyrel, calm down) and painted the bathroom. I was going for a light, neutral brown tone, but it ended up being a bit "earthy." What I mean is that it looks like someone took a bucket of mud and very neatly spread it over my walls, but that's what you get when you buy bargain paint that was "mis-tinted." Nonetheless, my walls now look clean. Well . . . muddy, but there are no fingerprints and it did richen up the room a little.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought that with all of the brown it needed some white so I went and bought white trim. At this point, I had already painted the walls and bought the trim so Tyrel didn't argue. He just gave in, bought a mider box, and put up the trim for me. Now I don't know how many of you have ever experienced Tyrel's carpentry, but it is a bit . . . verbal. If something doesn't fit right, or look right, or nail right, words fly. I've learned to stay out of the room and just look in if I hear anything that sounded like something got thrown through the wall. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as Tyrel was in our tiny little bathroom swearing like a sailor, the boys and I were in the kitchen playing with play-do. It was a great teaching moment. The lesson? We never repeat anything we hear from daddy when he is building things. But, when it was all said and done, my bathroom was finished (except I have to touch up the ceiling where the paint seeped under the tape.) Everytime I go in, I decide that I like the brown a little more and I realized that muddy brown is the perfect color for a bathroom. It will hide anything (and I do mean anything) that two little boys can think of to smear on the wall. ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekmEa0Y4SI/AAAAAAAAAEU/vimfTN0TF3k/s1600-h/New+Paint2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekmEa0Y4SI/AAAAAAAAAEU/vimfTN0TF3k/s320/New+Paint2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325829891702710562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekmEDkfhwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/TQlaAuHKs0U/s1600-h/New+Paint1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekmEDkfhwI/AAAAAAAAAEM/TQlaAuHKs0U/s320/New+Paint1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325829885462021890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-2465012086711369311?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/2465012086711369311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=2465012086711369311' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/2465012086711369311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/2465012086711369311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-bunny-dentist-and-mr-fix-it.html' title='The Easter Bunny, The Dentist, and Mr. Fix-it'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SekkVMOzYcI/AAAAAAAAADs/2-eGm5EXXY0/s72-c/EPD+Easter+Egg+Hunt1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-222231459993417063</id><published>2009-03-07T15:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T16:27:51.249-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Keenan!</title><content type='html'>March 2nd was Keenan's 3rd birthday! I always thought it was silly that moms got so emotional at things like this, but I was a little sad to know that Keenan is officially a real kid. (As opposed to the fake kid that he used to be.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started off a week ahead of time when Tyrel took Keenan to a hockey game with Uncle Shane and Kalen. Keenan has decided that he wants to be a hockey player so this was really fun for him. You'll have to ask Tyrel about the details of their excursion. They didn't tell me much except that they had fun, that I will go watch Keenan play when he gets big, and that Uncle Shane gets a little crazy at hockey games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of the crowding problem we had in our tiny house last year, we decided to have separate parties for friends/cousins in the area and for grandparents. The Saturday before Keenan's birthday, we went to McDonald's for the "kid party." Lots of cousins and friends showed up and I think they all had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKPsh-IeI/AAAAAAAAACk/z9Shpo4YYnQ/s1600-h/Dad,Adrian,+and+Dominq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKPsh-IeI/AAAAAAAAACk/z9Shpo4YYnQ/s320/Dad,Adrian,+and+Dominq.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310599650367906274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKPGUdzBI/AAAAAAAAACc/AxZxWdvZxqc/s1600-h/Keenan+and+Tylee+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKPGUdzBI/AAAAAAAAACc/AxZxWdvZxqc/s320/Keenan+and+Tylee+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310599640110713874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKOhMeIvI/AAAAAAAAACU/gFSxn1vb_ws/s1600-h/McDonald%27s+Party.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKOhMeIvI/AAAAAAAAACU/gFSxn1vb_ws/s320/McDonald%27s+Party.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310599630145069810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had Spongebob and Patrick cupcakes that Keenan, Draiman, and I made and individual ice cream cups. It was super easy and I thought they turned out kinda' cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMLCyK0tSI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uUBewQ8u4zk/s1600-h/Draiman+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMLCyK0tSI/AAAAAAAAAC8/uUBewQ8u4zk/s320/Draiman+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310600528054760738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMLCOS72DI/AAAAAAAAAC0/euN_ylGU6QI/s1600-h/Happy+Birthday+to+Keenan!.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMLCOS72DI/AAAAAAAAAC0/euN_ylGU6QI/s320/Happy+Birthday+to+Keenan!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310600518425106482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMLBueo6fI/AAAAAAAAACs/PU3FAyiv0yc/s1600-h/Cupcakes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMLBueo6fI/AAAAAAAAACs/PU3FAyiv0yc/s320/Cupcakes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310600509884262898" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Keenan's actual birthday he woke up to find his present from Tyrel and me-a brand new Spiderman bicycle! We took him out to an empty parking lot to let him ride it later that day. It was so cute watching him figure out the pedals because he got so excited when he could make it move by himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbML293Ig6I/AAAAAAAAADM/7dKd7d-etag/s1600-h/On+my+New+Bike+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbML293Ig6I/AAAAAAAAADM/7dKd7d-etag/s320/On+my+New+Bike+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310601424546595746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbML2QQM65I/AAAAAAAAADE/ugmEv_FoWkg/s1600-h/Spiderman+Bike+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbML2QQM65I/AAAAAAAAADE/ugmEv_FoWkg/s320/Spiderman+Bike+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310601412303711122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, Keenan and I made his Spongebob cake (something he'd been anticipating for at least six months). Spongebob didn't have any arms or legs, but it was exciting for a three-year old anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMMjF1ww-I/AAAAAAAAADc/RCGQt-Hfp38/s1600-h/Spongebob+Cake+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMMjF1ww-I/AAAAAAAAADc/RCGQt-Hfp38/s320/Spongebob+Cake+3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310602182602572770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMMivXP4UI/AAAAAAAAADU/TfR8tZ-Itio/s1600-h/Spongebob+Cake+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMMivXP4UI/AAAAAAAAADU/TfR8tZ-Itio/s320/Spongebob+Cake+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310602176569008450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended the festivities with a visit from both sets of grandparents and, much to Keenan's wonder and excitement, more presents! It's sad how quickly the years have passed since we brought him home, but we had fun celebrating with him anyway!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-222231459993417063?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/222231459993417063/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=222231459993417063' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/222231459993417063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/222231459993417063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/03/happy-birthday-keenan.html' title='Happy Birthday Keenan!'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SbMKPsh-IeI/AAAAAAAAACk/z9Shpo4YYnQ/s72-c/Dad,Adrian,+and+Dominq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-4213150688466968051</id><published>2009-02-19T19:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T19:53:33.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>Although Tyrel was working on Valentine's Day so we couldn't celebrate together (not that we ever celebrate Valentine's Day) the boys and I had a fun day. A couple of days before we made cookies with Annie (Keenan and Draiman's cousin). They were really cute, but I wouldn't reccomend that anyone actually eat them. Let's just say their were a lot of fingers in mouths and noses in between each cookie. Plus, Keenan really liked putting the jar of sprinkles in his mouth and shaking it onto his tongue. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4k-9k43LI/AAAAAAAAABM/ApUoVl5bEbk/s1600-h/101_0558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4k-9k43LI/AAAAAAAAABM/ApUoVl5bEbk/s320/101_0558.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304718075188796594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4mhJAfq6I/AAAAAAAAABU/2u3BPfyY46Y/s1600-h/101_0561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4mhJAfq6I/AAAAAAAAABU/2u3BPfyY46Y/s320/101_0561.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304719761884556194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we made paper valentines out of pre-cut hearts, markers, and shapes they could glue on. We also printed out their pictures and glued them on the fronts. We plan to give them to the grandparents, but knowing me I won't actually get them out till next year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4oFbylpLI/AAAAAAAAAB8/RaQlG-Inptk/s1600-h/101_0567.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4oFbylpLI/AAAAAAAAAB8/RaQlG-Inptk/s320/101_0567.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304721484913419442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Valentine's Day came, we started the day with pink, heart-shaped pancakes. But, after a couple of batches, I got tired of making the hearts and we just had regularly-shaped, pink pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4opLcdZtI/AAAAAAAAACM/zbgcdBttccA/s1600-h/101_0568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4opLcdZtI/AAAAAAAAACM/zbgcdBttccA/s320/101_0568.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304722099000927954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast, the boys got their Valentine's gifts from me and Tyrel. It was just a heart-shaped container that had M&amp;Ms in it and a box of Sweethearts, but the boys thought it was AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4nWCQI-UI/AAAAAAAAABk/q_MnjtvgjCI/s1600-h/101_0564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4nWCQI-UI/AAAAAAAAABk/q_MnjtvgjCI/s320/101_0564.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304720670604196162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4noImu0GI/AAAAAAAAABs/-wBm10AtomE/s1600-h/101_0565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4noImu0GI/AAAAAAAAABs/-wBm10AtomE/s320/101_0565.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304720981547208802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4n26UL8KI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ZirmcKe-U_E/s1600-h/101_0566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4n26UL8KI/AAAAAAAAAB0/ZirmcKe-U_E/s320/101_0566.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304721235409367202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, we checked the mail on a hunch that there might be a package from Grandma Spotten, and of course, there was! (BTW, Dianne, Keenan absolutely loves Transformers right now and Bumblebee is his favorite so you couldn't have picked a better Valentine's card for him.) They are always so excited to get their very own mail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, even if I couldn't spend the day with my Valentine, I couldn't have picked two better replacements. We had a good time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-4213150688466968051?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/4213150688466968051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=4213150688466968051' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4213150688466968051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4213150688466968051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SZ4k-9k43LI/AAAAAAAAABM/ApUoVl5bEbk/s72-c/101_0558.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-1435221198895184926</id><published>2009-02-12T20:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T21:03:50.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom on Strike</title><content type='html'>A word of warning: This is not a happy or cute post. It is me venting to the only source around me that won't talk back or argue. If you don't like reading about people whining, stop reading now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I want to first say that I love my family and I would never trade my children for anything. BUT . . . there are times that I just wish they had an off button that I could push and then stuff them in a closet until I was ready to turn them back on again. I have been feeling so tapped out this week- like I can't take the sound of one more whine or hear "mommy" or "did you cook dinner?" one more time. Am I the only one who gets this way? Does that make me a terrible mom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's because I just got done taking care of and cleaning up after a bunch of puking Nebekers. I don't think there is one room in my house that did not get "marked". Plus, Draiman is HORRIBLE when he's sick. He is up through most of the night and during the day throws one tantrum after another with no discernable cause. At one point, I heard him crying and didn't even go check. I just sat on a chair, staring at the floor thinking, "If it's bad enough, he'll come get me anyway. Geez I hope it's not because he threw up again. Is he too little to make him clean it up himself?" Not only have I been over-needed, but I am incredibly sleep deprived and everytime I think, "Everyone is better now" Draiman wakes up puking again. This is the flu that never ends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've decided that if grocery store employees in California can have a union to make sure they are treated fairly and not overworked, moms should have one too. I want a guarentee that I will be compensated for graveyard shifts and overtime. I also want a department to take care of my family's grievances. Most importantly, I want a guarantee that I will get at least two days a week off with compensation for those weeks that I do not and for doing especially disturbing jobs, such as shaking vomited-up spaghetti out of a blanket or scraping it out from between couch cushions.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I want to be able to go on strike when I feel that those demands have not been adequately met.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've rambled long enough. Maybe I just needed to put it out there so I could see how silly I am being so I can snap out of it. Next week will better (how could it not be?).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-1435221198895184926?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/1435221198895184926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=1435221198895184926' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/1435221198895184926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/1435221198895184926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/02/mom-on-strike.html' title='Mom on Strike'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-1263677114490233933</id><published>2009-02-08T21:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:42:17.742-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Things Children Say</title><content type='html'>As we were watching Wall-E the other day during the scene when Eve was shooting at Wall-E. Keenan, the great philosopher that he is, said "Thats naughty. We don't shoot at Wall-E, we just shoot people."&lt;br /&gt;He won't be touching a gun for a couple more years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-1263677114490233933?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/1263677114490233933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=1263677114490233933' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/1263677114490233933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/1263677114490233933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/02/things-children-say.html' title='The Things Children Say'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-8414362156555303213</id><published>2009-02-08T21:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T21:37:00.197-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We Suck At This Blogging Thing</title><content type='html'>So we haven't talked to most of you since New Years. I always enjoy getting together with the family. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway everything is going pretty good we are just chillin here in E-town. Not much has really happened I am still working alot and Bobbi is still going to school and taking care of the demon spawn. &lt;br /&gt;I had to work on Super Bowl Sunday and didn't get to see much of the game. I did hear the last Steelers drive on the radio. YAY Steelers!&lt;br /&gt;Keenan has decided that he wants to play hockey now. His only hang up as far as he is concerned is he doesn't know how to ice skate.&lt;br /&gt;Draiman is still as entertaining as you all think he is. We think he is a pain in the a**. He has decided he can do everything "all by self" he gets just as frusterated as we do.&lt;br /&gt;I purchased a new shotgun a few weeks ago but I haven't been able to shoot it yet. If you care it is a Benelli Nova pump action.&lt;br /&gt;We have all been able to poop through a coffee filter with out it tearing for the last few days. If you would like more details on this just give us a call or something. I don't feel this is the proper platform to get into too mamy details.&lt;br /&gt;So thats it for now I will be leaving other random noncoherent messages later so keeping looking for them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-8414362156555303213?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/8414362156555303213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=8414362156555303213' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/8414362156555303213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/8414362156555303213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/02/we-suck-at-this-blogging-thing.html' title='We Suck At This Blogging Thing'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-4224301610532570329</id><published>2009-01-04T11:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T11:46:02.075-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bobbi's playlist</title><content type='html'>			&lt;div style="text-align: center; margin-left: auto; visibility:visible; margin-right: auto; width:450px;"&gt;&lt;embed style="width:435px; visibility:visible; height:270px;" allowScriptAccess="never" src="http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/mc/mp3player-othersite.swf?config=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/mc/config/config_black_shuffle.xml&amp;mywidth=435&amp;myheight=270&amp;playlist_url=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/loadplaylist.php?playlist=56555663" menu="false" quality="high" width="435" height="270" name="mp3player" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" border="0"/&gt;&lt;BR&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/mc/images/create_black.jpg border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/standalone/56555663 target=_blank&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/mc/images/launch_black.jpg border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/download/56555663&gt;&lt;img src=http://www.greatprofilemusic.com/mc/images/get_black.jpg border=0&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-4224301610532570329?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/4224301610532570329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=4224301610532570329' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4224301610532570329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4224301610532570329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2009/01/bobbis-playlist.html' title='bobbi&apos;s playlist'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-4216988270554077433</id><published>2008-12-15T12:14:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T12:26:57.261-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Wonderland</title><content type='html'>Yesterday we played in the snow with our neighbors for the first time this season.  It was really cute watching the boys trudge through the snow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa61fdC30I/AAAAAAAAAAs/GKzySq9htD0/s1600-h/Boys+in+snow.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa61fdC30I/AAAAAAAAAAs/GKzySq9htD0/s320/Boys+in+snow.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280113041277640514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keenan had a blast. They made a slide out of snow and he went sledding for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa7WaSAZ4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/LXb3F4k7hdQ/s1600-h/Sledding.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa7WaSAZ4I/AAAAAAAAAA0/LXb3F4k7hdQ/s320/Sledding.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280113606824847234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Draiman, on the other hand, didn't like the cold for very long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa7s4rr6wI/AAAAAAAAAA8/eiQnXJyl_pM/s1600-h/Cold.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa7s4rr6wI/AAAAAAAAAA8/eiQnXJyl_pM/s320/Cold.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280113992942742274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, he was even more upset when I brought him in. (Or maybe it was because instead of taking off his cold clothes, I was snapping pictures of him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa8RQ3k_DI/AAAAAAAAABE/ryjuYcBf92Q/s1600-h/Mad.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa8RQ3k_DI/AAAAAAAAABE/ryjuYcBf92Q/s320/Mad.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280114617910361138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-4216988270554077433?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/4216988270554077433/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=4216988270554077433' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4216988270554077433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/4216988270554077433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2008/12/yesterday-we-played-in-snow-with-our.html' title='Winter Wonderland'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Ikv4iZLpvYk/SUa61fdC30I/AAAAAAAAAAs/GKzySq9htD0/s72-c/Boys+in+snow.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-6716774838207525256</id><published>2008-12-10T21:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:48:27.046-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tyrel's Day at Work</title><content type='html'>Okay, Tyrel has officially discovered the blog. I apologize for his ramblings, but as a good wife, I couldn't tell him no.  The following is his blog, not mine.  I want to emphasize that. Enjoy . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day started out at 3:00am when my alarm went off. I woke up hit snooze and went back to sleep. At 3:09 it went off again repeated my previous actions. This evil cycle continued until 3:36 when I got up got dressed and went to start my truck. The battery was dead so I pulled out the battery charger hooked it up and went back in the house for about ten minutes. While in the house I called Josh and told him that I may be a little late. My truck started and I drove to the shop and was only five minutes late. I got all my stuff loaded in the truck, I thought. Josh said he would drive to Bridger Compressor Station an Enterprise facility about forty miles north of Farson Wyoming on the Jonah Field. We left the shop on our way to the wonderful Jonah Field I fell asleep at about exit 18 on I-80 I woke up at about 5:45 to the truck sliding on the road and Josh yelling profanities. We stayed on the road and everything was fine. I went back to sleep. I woke up again when the truck exited WY 191 onto Luman Road. Luman Road is a heavily traveled and not very well mantained dirt road on the Jonah Field. It was 6:40 it's hard to fall asleep with the truck bouncing and the driver complaining about the Texans that can't drive in Wyoming. They go way too slow. When we arrived at the compressor station I found the super for the contractor I was working for and asked him if we could go to work. He told me we had to wait until x-ray was done shooting a weld before we could bolt up a pig launcher we broke out on Monday. Josh parked the truck out of the way and we took a nap. I woke up again at about 9:30 and noticed x-ray had showed up and didn't think it would be too long before we would be doing something. I decided I should get all of my ppe on. This is when I realized I had forgotten my hard hat. I asked the super if he had a hard hat I could borrow he said he did. The problem with it was it belonged to his wife and it was covered with girl power stickers and I felt like a homo wearing it but I have to be safe. It took x-ray until 2:30 to finish. So from about 11:00 until then I played Bomberman on Josh's Nintendo DS. We bolted up the pig launcher and everything went good. I was there to torque a 36' 600 and a 42' 600 series flange. These flanges each have 28 2.5' bolts they require about 7500 ft. pounds of torgue. Everything went pretty smooth I got everything done that I needed to do. I left about 5:50 and began the long journy back to Evanston. I got back to shop at about 8:00 unloaded the truck and went home. This is about typical for my day at work except the forgetting my hard hat. I do feel like a homo alot. But only when someone grabs my butt or I grab someone elses. You have to be very comfortable with your sexuality to work in the oilfield.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-6716774838207525256?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/6716774838207525256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=6716774838207525256' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/6716774838207525256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/6716774838207525256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2008/12/tyrels-day-at-work.html' title='Tyrel&apos;s Day at Work'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-7734157637147707080</id><published>2008-12-02T20:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:41:38.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisdom from the Mouth of Keenan and Christmas from his Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;Wisdom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I think I have heard the funniest thing Keenan can come up with, he manages to surprise me. Earlier as I was trying to fold laundry, he was rambling away. Since I had a thousand things on my to do list for the day, I had gone into my "uh-huh" zone. For those of you who have not yet experienced an entire week (or day for that matter) of speaking only to people under the age of three, this means that I was randomly saying, "Uh-huh" while I was actually thinking about all of the tasks that needed doing. I was suddenly pulled back to conciousness by these words:&lt;br /&gt;"And Dad is really stinky.  He farts a lot."&lt;br /&gt;Trying to speak through my giggles, I said "Yes, Dad is stinky.  You're right."&lt;br /&gt;Keenan responded with this glimpse into his future:&lt;br /&gt;"And when I get big and get a beard, I'll be stinky too.  Right, Mom?"&lt;br /&gt;What could I say? He actually seemed excited about the idea of being stinky with a face full of hair.  So, I again tried to mask my chuckles and said, "Yes, Keenan. You are right.  One day,  you will have a beard and you'll smell like Dad."&lt;br /&gt;Keenan: "Cause I'll fart a lot too, right?"&lt;br /&gt;"Right." &lt;br /&gt;And with that, I suddenly realized the significance of being the only female in my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Christmas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This will be Keenan's first Christmas that he actually "gets" the concept.  (Well, at least he understands about Santa and toys.) We watched "The Polar Express" on t.v. a few nights ago and now Keenan cannot stop talking about the bell that Santa will be bringing him, along with the movies and toys, of course. So now I need to find a sleigh bell that only rings for kids who believe in Santa.&lt;br /&gt;The following day, we got out our Christmas decorations and decked the halls. When we put up our Christmas tree and turned on the lights Keenan looked up at it, his eyes got wide, and he &lt;em&gt;whispered&lt;/em&gt;, "Wow." He said nothing else; he just looked at it for a few more minutes. He was completely mesmorized.&lt;br /&gt;Next we had a discussion about Santa Clause and how we needed to be good so he would give us our presents.  Keenan looked at me and cocked his head to the side and said, "That Santa is a good guy."&lt;br /&gt;Since then, Keenan has run into my room every morning at the crack of dawn and said, "Did Santa come?!" It's going to be a long month.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-7734157637147707080?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/7734157637147707080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=7734157637147707080' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/7734157637147707080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/7734157637147707080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2008/12/wisdom-from-mouth-of-keenan-and.html' title='Wisdom from the Mouth of Keenan and Christmas from his Eyes'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-6148601328628761406</id><published>2008-11-30T12:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-02T20:55:58.355-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Tyrel and I met when I was his boss at Domino's Pizza. When he was first hired I remember thinking, "He's cute, but I would &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; date him." With a little persuasion on his part and a little sympathy on mine, Tyrel convinced me otherwise. I was shocked and amazed at how different he was from the person he tried to make people think he was. Anyone who knows me is aware that romance is totally wasted on me. So, I was even more amazed at how quickly I fell in love with him. After a short four months (and a little encouragement from Keenan) we were married. It was a beautiful ceremony . . . at the court house in jeans and t-shirts. But hey, it only cost us about $25. Now that's my kinda' wedding. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Keenan was born seven months later (we'll just say he was premature) and only 14 months after that, Draiman came along. Our short time together this far has been nothing less than fulfilling and exciting. I look forward to the rest of my life with my three wonderful boys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-6148601328628761406?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/6148601328628761406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=6148601328628761406' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/6148601328628761406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/6148601328628761406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2008/11/our-story.html' title='Our Story'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-492339947084866032.post-7303168925046121439</id><published>2008-11-30T12:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T12:57:04.134-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Okay, you win Dianne</title><content type='html'>After months of badgering from my mother-in-law (whom I am very grateful for, by the way), I have finally broken down and created a blog so that all may know of the chaos that ensues in our little family. I make no promises to how frequently it will be updated; nor to the quality of posts, pictures, and layouts.  Frankly, I am not sure what I am doing so forgive me in advance for the lack of organizational quality.  Actually, I don't even know what is going to happen when I submit this post. Nonetheless, here is our blog.  Enjoy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/492339947084866032-7303168925046121439?l=relandbobbi.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/feeds/7303168925046121439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=492339947084866032&amp;postID=7303168925046121439' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/7303168925046121439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/492339947084866032/posts/default/7303168925046121439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://relandbobbi.blogspot.com/2008/11/okay-you-win-dianne.html' title='Okay, you win Dianne'/><author><name>Bobbi and Tyrel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08214735646715224107</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
