tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46133089268181703352024-03-18T21:40:10.126-07:00La Casa CobianOlivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-3036213018661799762012-12-03T13:01:00.000-08:002012-12-03T13:01:09.759-08:00New Blog Address!Due to my lack of ability in all things technical, I am getting a new start, with a new blog. Here's the address:<br />
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fortheloveofedgar.blogspot.com<br />
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Isn't it all about my love of Edgar after all? I'll continue with that address until I run out of room for photos there too. Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-60769818302195549322012-11-25T20:39:00.000-08:002012-11-25T20:43:23.547-08:00I Am Glad For Many Things, But a Little Sad Too<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I am glad for many things, but right now I'm sad for something too. The thing I'm sad about is that I am out of space for pictures on my blog and despite my best efforts (which are very lame when it comes to technology), I am unable to upload all the pictures I want to. I will try to forge ahead and show some (but not all that I'd like) of our Thanksgiving extravaganza. </div>
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I am thankful for dessert. I call the maroon-colored pie harvest blend. The filling was Asian pear/raspberry/cranberry/cherry/raisin. It was well-received by some and not so well-received by others. Some wished that those who did not prefer the pie to keep their preferences to themselves. I'll not mention any names. It is enough to say that we missed Jennifer's chocolate pie this year. I will proudly state that the pumpkin pie turned out better than ever. The addition of sugar to the pumpkin pie had a dramatically positive effect on it. Two years ago I forgot the sugar in the pumpkin pie.</div>
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<img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC_oLB8L3rZ_fjJ8sL6MiYlyakiYs5cRmDBKM5jz1e8yhX4EEZLpWJuFWgeUs5ooftgkrLoWEjJofPZtIMMxgFdiluyxcy7uc_0wgmdB4AuSxSwp9sKgrMAAAe6Rtp00TiqJoT3pZM8yJ4/s320/pies1.JPG" width="320" /></div>
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I am thankful for turkeys--especially the turkeys that are related to me. Liliana and Ruben helped me make turkeys for our Thanksgiving guests. Enoch and Marianne got turkeys with all turquoise feathers because of their strong belief in turquoise as a traditional autumn color. Enoch was not with us, but I will deliver that turkey his turquoise turkey just as soon as possible.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74jzWEuwT8mSaDbyn3BhZ3_xvMDZGNx0lHP85GMW8d8UkMUyZculsuhU2fNr9d54U7C-WBeLBLHk2KeLGwcuDLol79Lk8pjGKFsz42MRfHSB0xlLfPop-b-Ql5hpzoEwt0ewu2tybPUHV/s1600/IMG_6888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74jzWEuwT8mSaDbyn3BhZ3_xvMDZGNx0lHP85GMW8d8UkMUyZculsuhU2fNr9d54U7C-WBeLBLHk2KeLGwcuDLol79Lk8pjGKFsz42MRfHSB0xlLfPop-b-Ql5hpzoEwt0ewu2tybPUHV/s320/IMG_6888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I am thankful for talented children. Carolina's talent (in our annual Thanksgiving talent show) was this incredible table, chair, and tea set. She constructed the chair and table all by herself and she painted the tea set. Unfortunately for this picture, she and Morgan were looking at their mom's camera. Marcos, never camera-shy, was looking right at his mom too (me!). </div>
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I am thankful the Johnsons joined us. They were just as glowing as they appear. Desi's talent was that amazing scarf she is crocheting. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8T3MKhSzPfOxXH_szigxEVgeidNuK8_51RvEFcivOu1VXTfzgK5TntoZoMH2K20HcXKwInaSwj-vCbzYIa6GPYErEVoU42TK84lye_1JwRf-iCNO8AYbd87Km8iYw1qpDZZH6kQ5Qj-Nk/s1600/IMG_6891.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8T3MKhSzPfOxXH_szigxEVgeidNuK8_51RvEFcivOu1VXTfzgK5TntoZoMH2K20HcXKwInaSwj-vCbzYIa6GPYErEVoU42TK84lye_1JwRf-iCNO8AYbd87Km8iYw1qpDZZH6kQ5Qj-Nk/s320/IMG_6891.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I'm thankful for this nutty almost eight-year-old who drew Buzz Lightyear for his talent.</div>
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I'm also thankful for pretty Lili and her drawing talent. As you can tell, we lost our best brush on our trip to Nauvoo (yes, that was back in September).</div>
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I'm thankful for Morgan's talent of getting seeds to sprout. Squanto with his habit of burying fish heads with corn seeds has nothing on our Morgan.</div>
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The other wonderful things I'm thankful for cannot be pictured at this time--Hyrum and his incredible talent of using his ears to fly and Clarissa and Liberty bringing tears to my eyes with their beautiful music (Liberty on the flute, Clarissa on the guitar and piano and of course, on her vocal chords). </div>
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Perhaps those of you with more blogging experience could offer some help. I've tried making my photos smaller, but I don't know how. I've tried deleting some photos from my blog, but I am not able to upload more pictures because I have used up all of my space.</div>
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My parents still have 10 months (but who's counting?) to go on their mission and I want to keep sharing pictures. Whatever shall I do?</div>
<br />Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-7736789127551507202012-11-18T17:35:00.000-08:002012-11-18T17:37:23.617-08:00Ducktails and Bobbysox<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">Some things you never forget--like how to ride a bike. I used to think doing a handstand fit into this category, but the other day when I did two for my children, I realized it doesn't. Although I was able to stay up for a split second, it hurt different parts of my body that haven't been used in a long while--since third grade maybe.<br />
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Besides riding a bike, I think being in a play might fit into the "never forget" category. This week my sister Marianne directed a musical that I was in as a freshman in high school--21 blessed years ago. My talented neice Desi played Bertha, a nerdy girl who fell in love with a nerdy boy. I also played Bertha, way back when. As Desi was saying her lines, I knew them! Those 21 years melted away and there I was, a freshman in high school. Isn't that something? I hadn't reviewed them or tried to remember them, but they were there. The play was a delight to watch. Marianne and all her family did a terrific job:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0rboqotqgoQeuFX_nfPEfxglhJ_0SZdgeLQv4-55qg4jh9uE98CLZ-c4pqFAHI9tjGpFJB3rR0UGi8YAvJC3cAB42fAOI2Uk4KJFKsplWTqW-BjyZFeeGMEFiaj4ttfezVRxS9fLbLseQ/s1600/IMG_6806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0rboqotqgoQeuFX_nfPEfxglhJ_0SZdgeLQv4-55qg4jh9uE98CLZ-c4pqFAHI9tjGpFJB3rR0UGi8YAvJC3cAB42fAOI2Uk4KJFKsplWTqW-BjyZFeeGMEFiaj4ttfezVRxS9fLbLseQ/s400/IMG_6806.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deseret was Bertha--the nerdy girl that fell in love with a nerdy boy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWu7nsxWoh12ozSDv-csWetrYpNA6fc7Ou2IdgwO1XM12_TobGmHB1BU1iRxJkHMnJ6o7fS5DujvXlOfqFMQ1ZJ80JyiqdT95UEEtIGGaflfEEgCcYttNmjfYXA8IVqSfKQ1KPxDAK7yk/s1600/IMG_6750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWu7nsxWoh12ozSDv-csWetrYpNA6fc7Ou2IdgwO1XM12_TobGmHB1BU1iRxJkHMnJ6o7fS5DujvXlOfqFMQ1ZJ80JyiqdT95UEEtIGGaflfEEgCcYttNmjfYXA8IVqSfKQ1KPxDAK7yk/s400/IMG_6750.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clarissa was Laura Carter--a high school prodigy with some great rock & roll talent. My sister Thelma played her back in '91.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIvKpliweb7PBOzcdjD_PGljIvUPeB016lMNknr6-jstU_X1Myu1vtbWXyX90cekJHK3ymkOF8NN5WIr_Ck47POBrT8v_4OkzmcwFXRjNxn_8wKM3AWHRTKUMvYGzEYQvYvPy5-sSe_j6/s1600/IMG_6755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtIvKpliweb7PBOzcdjD_PGljIvUPeB016lMNknr6-jstU_X1Myu1vtbWXyX90cekJHK3ymkOF8NN5WIr_Ck47POBrT8v_4OkzmcwFXRjNxn_8wKM3AWHRTKUMvYGzEYQvYvPy5-sSe_j6/s400/IMG_6755.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liberty was a cheerleader--the one on the left. She was very enthusiastic and dear.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hyrum made the crowd go wild as Elvis.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuU_PQA4kwr0p9L8HbFHteR47m1o6qRH0PiUC7uWQ1QLO2eeTzb_MAqFOCVY2No4IlXZ22HdvlCjaf9rEE0gH1G5Feeuzd_yYcWUV65tAGR1ZQdMJjB1PMLmmLYb0D-oYIv_qwimsMBPgu/s1600/IMG_6785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuU_PQA4kwr0p9L8HbFHteR47m1o6qRH0PiUC7uWQ1QLO2eeTzb_MAqFOCVY2No4IlXZ22HdvlCjaf9rEE0gH1G5Feeuzd_yYcWUV65tAGR1ZQdMJjB1PMLmmLYb0D-oYIv_qwimsMBPgu/s400/IMG_6785.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had to include this one because I love the expression on Robert's face. He and Marianne played alumni who had come back to the town for Homecoming.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUthfHKkcP4R6uJ5G04HEMV8uMzp87xHPMkjvXa0NwOUhk6gZcl8EVD0z6NYY04Jbi-wQy449mcLMgpgQ19QJwFxx-TnHpwz21lBneqiZOobdS4HNWatze0KM23TeKl9LsafdSx43UVOb/s1600/IMG_6814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLUthfHKkcP4R6uJ5G04HEMV8uMzp87xHPMkjvXa0NwOUhk6gZcl8EVD0z6NYY04Jbi-wQy449mcLMgpgQ19QJwFxx-TnHpwz21lBneqiZOobdS4HNWatze0KM23TeKl9LsafdSx43UVOb/s400/IMG_6814.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not only was Hyrum the King of Rock n' Roll, he was also a football player.</td></tr>
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Here are a few more fun shots from the production:</div>
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Speaking of performances, today was our Primary Program. Poor little Marcos had been practicing his part "I choose the right by saying my prayers" for weeks. He knew it so well and always loved saying it. Of our children who have been in Primary, he is the most comfortable performing and the part was so easy and caused me no worry.</div>
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During the first part of Sacrament Meeting, I was in the mothers' lounge, focused on getting Omar to sleep before the program started so I could watch the program and not have to leave. When I got back into the chapel, it was time for the program. It was also the time when Marcos always gets his snack. He wanted his snack. I didn't think he ought to take it up because I thought his fellow Sunbeams might want it and it would cause problems. I told Marcos he could have his snack after the program. He freaked out and cried and I had to take him out. His part was near the beginning. He said he wanted me to come up with him. I did and he went to the microphone and sobbed into it. He didn't say his part after all that practice and that was that. </div>
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I guess there's always next year...and the year after that...until he's 11.</div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-3179564522846114802012-11-11T16:55:00.001-08:002012-11-11T16:59:22.936-08:00Boise Temple Open House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
We had a great trip this week to Boise and Meridian, Idaho where we stayed with my dear cousin Hannah and her darling family: </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have you ever seen such a cute family? Their new house is lovely, and they were so hospitable! </td></tr>
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We shared the disappointing election results of Tuesday night. The kids were playing around and the parents were watching TV. Ruben came over to see how things were going. He's been wondering lately who his friends would be voting for. When I told him it looked like President Obama would be re-elected, Ruben scowled and said, "But I'm <i>tired</i> of him being President!" When you consider that President Obama has been in office for half of Ruben's life, you can see where he's coming from. Here are some pictures of the kids together:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcos and Maisy. Maisy was determined to not smile--it reminded me of me when I was a kid.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are all nine of our children together. Notice Maisy's lovely smile here and remember Ruben's eyes. You'll need to remember them later when they are closed in another picture.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hannah, Me, and Ammon. Hannah and I look more like each other than we look like our own sisters. When we lived together at BYU, we learned to answer to each other's names as well as our own.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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The perfect antidote for the post-election blues was a trip to the LDS Temple in Boise. We were so glad we go to take our children to see the temple. The serenity and peace of the temple was a great reminder that God is in His heaven and that He has a plan for us. That's what will give us peace and security.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Please remember Ruben's eyes from before! You'll have to remember Edgar's too which are also not shown.</td></tr>
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<br />Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-2626444076321307672012-11-04T16:39:00.001-08:002012-11-04T16:48:32.758-08:00Nevada Day & Halloween<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Though Nevada Day once more fell on Halloween (it always has and always will), I did very little to commemorate it. I did try to croak out the Nevada state song with my children, but alas, my voice is gone and I don't know if it will ever return. It drives me crazy because I can't sing (and although my voice is not pretty, it <strike>is</strike> was loud) and so our family home evening hymns are greatly lacking in volume since my voice left. Halloween, on the other hand, was well celebrated en la casa Cobian. We had a cousin celebration (and even cancelled school because of it). My children had a Peter Pan theme. Liliana was Tiger Lily, Ruben was Peter Pan, Marcos was Captain Hook, and Ammon was the crocodile. Little Omar was a random pumpkin, but Carolina went trick or treating with us, and she was also a pumpkin. They were very cute together:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_B5l1Alr7Ltdz4DjHubs1q756YukhGCdroDvIA7hBoaH7O9n_lUsVVQx_0UQUI26txNFDbYQv95VQ1xOJ5uO7JO9so7e-xKla9J-SvfKgGcuVclS5uIoP_mCPV8wBVHIymhHzvQ95tYvy/s1600/Pumpkins.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_B5l1Alr7Ltdz4DjHubs1q756YukhGCdroDvIA7hBoaH7O9n_lUsVVQx_0UQUI26txNFDbYQv95VQ1xOJ5uO7JO9so7e-xKla9J-SvfKgGcuVclS5uIoP_mCPV8wBVHIymhHzvQ95tYvy/s640/Pumpkins.JPG" width="430" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love how Omar just kind of rolled into Carolina.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW8hk3yZ6Bgzhn7b-tNQUMI686sOg3UmgQHNs0ky1oG6LRC1zDcmt_ZJB2marqEnAn1lqHsEpxlj21KH3RkZ_TS4S_F-dIafCMCgcpeZ_hLmLrhgfQBaM0CFa0z3_Ss-BmtOwCnVHteSrS/s1600/IMG_6704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW8hk3yZ6Bgzhn7b-tNQUMI686sOg3UmgQHNs0ky1oG6LRC1zDcmt_ZJB2marqEnAn1lqHsEpxlj21KH3RkZ_TS4S_F-dIafCMCgcpeZ_hLmLrhgfQBaM0CFa0z3_Ss-BmtOwCnVHteSrS/s640/IMG_6704.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili made her skirt by herself. She sews like me--<br />
the seam ripper is her best friend.<br />
I thought her skirt turned out lovely.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD67L9Yc-snAfNXhyphenhyphenisN0s48a7S77abS1knlObs6u8r3zav5cdioVgH_GjjvkbYRXNOrMPVKGujRVR1Cj5HmP_0q76-j26FkRaZPpguF_9wX0W4iNXv4zM2oe-friovbWcbg4vIaM7uFZS/s1600/IMG_6702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD67L9Yc-snAfNXhyphenhyphenisN0s48a7S77abS1knlObs6u8r3zav5cdioVgH_GjjvkbYRXNOrMPVKGujRVR1Cj5HmP_0q76-j26FkRaZPpguF_9wX0W4iNXv4zM2oe-friovbWcbg4vIaM7uFZS/s640/IMG_6702.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peter Pan and Iron Man (Luke) were inseparable as always. <br />
What makes the Iron Man red?<br />
Isn't that a song from Peter Pan? If it's not, it ought to be.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Though we never got a hook for our little pirate<br />
(I was going to let him use my Kitchen<br />
Aid dough hook since we couldn't find one in the store).<br />
In the end, it didn't seem to matter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzUTtLQVhX2KzLVb0BvbOn8eCntwKY1oOdbHvfSL9KrPxxnUMNf5oj6P4ip6YUM8HDJZcdIhWh3-UKEAwv6AIXAgdda-KCkkrihq38sluG2hHND7FclUpHN_hleMwLt3rljJjQqGvb69m/s1600/IMG_6699.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpzUTtLQVhX2KzLVb0BvbOn8eCntwKY1oOdbHvfSL9KrPxxnUMNf5oj6P4ip6YUM8HDJZcdIhWh3-UKEAwv6AIXAgdda-KCkkrihq38sluG2hHND7FclUpHN_hleMwLt3rljJjQqGvb69m/s640/IMG_6699.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never smile at a crocodile!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3SPqi2UAigliPCxVqOx8VeeZWhFHYDV2XJCwKLgwBWtJPcU-ZPIL4CxsaUu5HIukx7qyixhIUZVHebtecu_yqJvfcRje9pe5mmqN5PqTi8R0W88qk_uHE_ZeVGAC-uSprgVaQyPqzpkR4/s1600/IMG_6698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3SPqi2UAigliPCxVqOx8VeeZWhFHYDV2XJCwKLgwBWtJPcU-ZPIL4CxsaUu5HIukx7qyixhIUZVHebtecu_yqJvfcRje9pe5mmqN5PqTi8R0W88qk_uHE_ZeVGAC-uSprgVaQyPqzpkR4/s640/IMG_6698.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Dahl children: Iron Man Luke, Savannah Strawberry Shortcake,<br />
and Davy Crockett Isaiah</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzqiUR4fJem9yCqWNO1vrw_TELK2DeLKJpIZ01NLVdyOjp0v7ls7wmXot-YmrysNiLkvP1f-t7u0qeRKunW4-e0moePin0fuwx_TTCGLhGphxDhIuqNUdw_I68ACtR_xD3X-ik1tZQqFh9/s1600/IMG_6696.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzqiUR4fJem9yCqWNO1vrw_TELK2DeLKJpIZ01NLVdyOjp0v7ls7wmXot-YmrysNiLkvP1f-t7u0qeRKunW4-e0moePin0fuwx_TTCGLhGphxDhIuqNUdw_I68ACtR_xD3X-ik1tZQqFh9/s400/IMG_6696.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Johnsons--Morgan the Mouse, Hyrum proving that Elvis still lives,<br />
Carolina the Pumpkin, and Liberty, a dear granny</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0QjKRbt273GN8t6iBumrCa9lgn_jUg6RJtWr31y1JudUrGyWI_2OHN3cHETICS_Hoc2msGNna77HmpxMDakGl07yd75KFpl7x-H1MVWXIMv6GV8cEOg5EkwPfkIemEOYaq5zXKJDQzbV/s1600/IMG_6695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG0QjKRbt273GN8t6iBumrCa9lgn_jUg6RJtWr31y1JudUrGyWI_2OHN3cHETICS_Hoc2msGNna77HmpxMDakGl07yd75KFpl7x-H1MVWXIMv6GV8cEOg5EkwPfkIemEOYaq5zXKJDQzbV/s400/IMG_6695.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The whole group</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwLFRO7oGe1jcgEduort1WNoDjqlr4XS3rqo3cSQtGSqGmPczxdBlC5plomymYWj3nlqpVudtMboUHoDT0HRHxYvMg7JlEEC21Xabj1f1xr6QzpHqWEZMMFm78NSEZ47V526fyuVCgTat/s1600/IMG_6692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwLFRO7oGe1jcgEduort1WNoDjqlr4XS3rqo3cSQtGSqGmPczxdBlC5plomymYWj3nlqpVudtMboUHoDT0HRHxYvMg7JlEEC21Xabj1f1xr6QzpHqWEZMMFm78NSEZ47V526fyuVCgTat/s400/IMG_6692.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luke with his pumpkin. He decided he'd rather play with Ruben than carve it.<br />
Liliana and Isaiah were only too glad to carve it for him.<br />
They got a little knife-happy (in a very safe way, Cor):</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hB-RcifBb3CZdrGjH9vASRSLjDbhCvFq7b2uHOwGtaKesZUurlM-HgsL98cI3SPgEuoXszXmd9VagpVkJZNYxxHEEmiULHyHNZmRi1TvviwHD0CAp1BdgWtK2WvZcaRJOuJZLjvgrtdG/s1600/IMG_6691.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_hB-RcifBb3CZdrGjH9vASRSLjDbhCvFq7b2uHOwGtaKesZUurlM-HgsL98cI3SPgEuoXszXmd9VagpVkJZNYxxHEEmiULHyHNZmRi1TvviwHD0CAp1BdgWtK2WvZcaRJOuJZLjvgrtdG/s400/IMG_6691.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-R1eqJeuOeZ2hB16yrzG8QqgajuiFnt3627DDOi6woOH05joNk578MU96uj2y3wpFgHajR-YCfUMHm_TA5DE_vFfMLzLiWp6i5JPRLNJSKyogwZ1o1YzkXWn9aPtsZJQcSk5PnL301Rj/s1600/IMG_6688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-R1eqJeuOeZ2hB16yrzG8QqgajuiFnt3627DDOi6woOH05joNk578MU96uj2y3wpFgHajR-YCfUMHm_TA5DE_vFfMLzLiWp6i5JPRLNJSKyogwZ1o1YzkXWn9aPtsZJQcSk5PnL301Rj/s1600/IMG_6688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0-R1eqJeuOeZ2hB16yrzG8QqgajuiFnt3627DDOi6woOH05joNk578MU96uj2y3wpFgHajR-YCfUMHm_TA5DE_vFfMLzLiWp6i5JPRLNJSKyogwZ1o1YzkXWn9aPtsZJQcSk5PnL301Rj/s640/IMG_6688.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handsome Isaiah with his pumpkin.</td></tr>
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And speaking of pumpkin, let's not forget our annual culinary feast of Dinner in a Pumpkin. Once again I was the only one in the family that liked it, but oh, how I liked it! Everyone had to eat a little before they could trick or treat. Hopefully, someday, my children will come to love it as I have and will force their children to eat it before they go scavenging candy.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unfortunately, this shows a lot more of my dirty stove than I would have liked!</td></tr>
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And as a parting shot, have you ever seen such a handsome baby? My Grandma Jaynes and I picked this outfit out for Omar when I was 34 weeks pregnant with him. She bought it for a present for him. It was the smallest we could find, and it seemed so huge. Now, Omarcito fits in his handsome vest suit. He looks like the Prime Minister:</div>
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<img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT5jLdaseD7SOva6lA4fstarmUF0K3FEsXtZwM9fHeolVnwKrm_CUGy2EsoE7HnAdBar432AylfQLnlHWkWIdDpIT0USnq46IwK_H3j8KTOKsC98MuMKaThiANUGvY2lqxyykYUGjHa0LM/s640/IMG_6713.JPG" width="425" /></div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-17845635547985910282012-10-28T17:22:00.002-07:002012-10-28T17:26:37.029-07:00Five Little Pumpkins<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3wq5b38Um4rQkUeWZdj0WyfpVfJMqQSQVFb1uBYXZfWkwiZfdfkjsLNyoZKFRlqGqOgRO2mRYtpDV2zzOkG-nAwKGtKwDpaQW0fYNMgpBXYaYMcRZ1rCCWKYilXPZu_CJC3MGFuO31bvE/s400/sitting+good+lighting.jpg" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five little pumpkins sitting by the gate.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHNcHGvfqVLYwdsMv0nlVvgpM9kjCjCnIfzh6pFhS0CKoi1vQAgT-ICngjfxBr5rNJyJhHZvnPloPMNYYC5BoQxzYJkp4UJg3Bp_DAqjbP8YGA04aQUGY18eG1KoyMV_Ktmn239rj1kaZ/s1600/first.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmHNcHGvfqVLYwdsMv0nlVvgpM9kjCjCnIfzh6pFhS0CKoi1vQAgT-ICngjfxBr5rNJyJhHZvnPloPMNYYC5BoQxzYJkp4UJg3Bp_DAqjbP8YGA04aQUGY18eG1KoyMV_Ktmn239rj1kaZ/s400/first.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first one said, "Oh my, it's getting late!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAEyqpvFYA_ps0SQadd4N6on-1qaFu3m9FvceFHoV_ZcDoUIsbWDSKmeb06iLbzm0DeniWZW4Ks05REFaq_7mLmP9GI6l0C8aCBVGLjzd5VY7MFS00yNZUJ3bBE_fGJuihNkMOR2yFidC/s1600/IMG_5768.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtAEyqpvFYA_ps0SQadd4N6on-1qaFu3m9FvceFHoV_ZcDoUIsbWDSKmeb06iLbzm0DeniWZW4Ks05REFaq_7mLmP9GI6l0C8aCBVGLjzd5VY7MFS00yNZUJ3bBE_fGJuihNkMOR2yFidC/s400/IMG_5768.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The second one said, "There are witches in the air!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFEUox-dJS2G58SdvwcksNUG2sn6GWp6AOnePWk7XcO3Ou3H24Y_13z23lKc1Cy_PfM8ePSsB2tgyrm5hSMRAuhkSbKsm0rPhyphenhyphenJgrB6U2V6n8Qsb1ARvCfxJ3_UA7kQBIPe5MDmdYzhHi/s1600/third.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGFEUox-dJS2G58SdvwcksNUG2sn6GWp6AOnePWk7XcO3Ou3H24Y_13z23lKc1Cy_PfM8ePSsB2tgyrm5hSMRAuhkSbKsm0rPhyphenhyphenJgrB6U2V6n8Qsb1ARvCfxJ3_UA7kQBIPe5MDmdYzhHi/s400/third.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The third one said, "Well, we don't care!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuDjnRpbDen0HC8j-l6639agdaTfVdVoXVb4G1A-FJJpHmjDh4_cJ7LRIQX-1YIcyBjzD6r2k2sR0Lw-7BKkuBe1h9RUgD1fzakkCahLAk2H6MDq6cYaseo4JcVVIe4GvrrH1qbGFZW1h/s1600/run4.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuDjnRpbDen0HC8j-l6639agdaTfVdVoXVb4G1A-FJJpHmjDh4_cJ7LRIQX-1YIcyBjzD6r2k2sR0Lw-7BKkuBe1h9RUgD1fzakkCahLAk2H6MDq6cYaseo4JcVVIe4GvrrH1qbGFZW1h/s640/run4.jpg" width="609" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fourth one said, "Let's run...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpu3XkmqijR01xQdSlIkCOJ6KrmofXBjRFY0dNveSvfwWCXyUXNCLq7lSLSVakTbmhqxZ1U0JBHyHOcNiYalYslg_Cw4JOiWlT34wEJyUJ4o-nOLyQF5qXdJIpCPI9HgE13jmSfFevP7I7/s1600/IMG_5791.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpu3XkmqijR01xQdSlIkCOJ6KrmofXBjRFY0dNveSvfwWCXyUXNCLq7lSLSVakTbmhqxZ1U0JBHyHOcNiYalYslg_Cw4JOiWlT34wEJyUJ4o-nOLyQF5qXdJIpCPI9HgE13jmSfFevP7I7/s640/IMG_5791.JPG" width="552" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"...and run..."</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEict2KySAUquixqHAY4wcJfhtARiduDQj12NdgJGsKzLVIZ8rGVnKn8w97KdVXZDXfJM7QJaWUWRyer_aIK2Z35CNa6tyUTQcxXNFg027jvLqMX7y4qKWlWqNpHob7eO41p5R3A6I4_eCMc/s1600/run1.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEict2KySAUquixqHAY4wcJfhtARiduDQj12NdgJGsKzLVIZ8rGVnKn8w97KdVXZDXfJM7QJaWUWRyer_aIK2Z35CNa6tyUTQcxXNFg027jvLqMX7y4qKWlWqNpHob7eO41p5R3A6I4_eCMc/s640/run1.jpg" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"...and run!"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwzIDgerwUZXlkt7DYna3QDc3Ue66h_dQ8GU-kTQpQxp9gbGKpp2FVB6py9wjYjFMGtBYIl26p_6B7LXuDSZpsMZbYXcWEVEoFyHkj3rQJkyH6rheLaSOQ9q_irl3FEnrSoOMagRLt78K/s1600/fifth1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOwzIDgerwUZXlkt7DYna3QDc3Ue66h_dQ8GU-kTQpQxp9gbGKpp2FVB6py9wjYjFMGtBYIl26p_6B7LXuDSZpsMZbYXcWEVEoFyHkj3rQJkyH6rheLaSOQ9q_irl3FEnrSoOMagRLt78K/s400/fifth1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fifth one said, "Isn't Halloween fun?"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdBYMWv2hgX_OAe-cyeWnJdJhnCVayBY-ZoB_yfOVI8FihOyDhg2OMogiZ0RpWVUaHgdUbLP3_VyIkHj6nEehVxP7q_KrwPxtINMfxc3iIzXvEoOHZTux5j8RwPXnSaD0cRVkREPBMq0g/s1600/heads+very+best.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOdBYMWv2hgX_OAe-cyeWnJdJhnCVayBY-ZoB_yfOVI8FihOyDhg2OMogiZ0RpWVUaHgdUbLP3_VyIkHj6nEehVxP7q_KrwPxtINMfxc3iIzXvEoOHZTux5j8RwPXnSaD0cRVkREPBMq0g/s400/heads+very+best.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then OOOOooooooo went the wind and OUT went the light...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX21f4xRyA1hfMaxe3mYgAS4GXdhXiZh9dHIXNB8EHNNiMiQp9S5JlNuo3EaVOznkRZQtSiuxrozTQEHp5e7hVXyk_FxSlbL9RpDLWrKKfj18sX7ZX3WzIT4_Gdv64S2z6abNmwlrX3YWJ/s1600/IMG_5866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX21f4xRyA1hfMaxe3mYgAS4GXdhXiZh9dHIXNB8EHNNiMiQp9S5JlNuo3EaVOznkRZQtSiuxrozTQEHp5e7hVXyk_FxSlbL9RpDLWrKKfj18sX7ZX3WzIT4_Gdv64S2z6abNmwlrX3YWJ/s400/IMG_5866.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the five little pumpkins rolled out of sight.</td></tr>
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That little poem is from a board book we have. Since we have five little pumpkins, I thought we'd better by them some pumpkin-colored shirts and take some photos.</div>
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This week our five little pumpkins carved/painted pumpkins and tried to look really scary for the photo. Omar neither decorated his own pumpkin nor did he try to look scary.</div>
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<img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4xO48teT9cIYUA1q977RzSAy8r8nRemjyeDCxLb1I4FI5mdNWecUYv3v812hhXlxQvzFIFnmVIlmP2jpcZmfDnv5cKBjIQWNDqDvd9c5mu_Xuc9KvtA3SFN9MwJe2NtxbqBk7hN2b4M23/s400/IMG_6680.JPG" width="400" /></div>
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In other news, Liliana and Ruben went with Edgar, Abuelita, and Tia Elia and Tio Jonaton to a program at the Conference Center in Salt Lake. They looked sharp. Ruben needs some longer pants. His birthday's coming up and maybe he'll get some.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBkD7sACpqAFpp62d8LjwYm9jF1Z8tMd-z0guKeiVgAEq7YzljtYcYmm9rePKg07AZ8SshqxB3QiWyzI3Uu4Eq1U54XveX8BSiMOokIS_eq9hh7uRYDVaTp0LJh2DdMvP0K6DuihcQGm9/s1600/IMG_6682.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhBkD7sACpqAFpp62d8LjwYm9jF1Z8tMd-z0guKeiVgAEq7YzljtYcYmm9rePKg07AZ8SshqxB3QiWyzI3Uu4Eq1U54XveX8BSiMOokIS_eq9hh7uRYDVaTp0LJh2DdMvP0K6DuihcQGm9/s640/IMG_6682.JPG" width="425" /></a></div>
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Since the program was only for older children, I kept our three youngest and their cousins. I traded my two older (and I realized very helpful) kids for two really cute smaller ones. I had a baby, a one-year old, a two-year-old, a three-year-old, and a four-year-old. I was feeling like things were going really well and that I was a really capable care-giver. I was making some mac n' cheese from a box when Ian (the one-year-old) and Ammon (the two-year-old) came out of Omar's room with potting soil on their persons and in their hair. They had dumped one plant completely upside down and had knocked others partially over. Edgar had already vacuumed that room too.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqGJqMtSxgtItx1-JlwsSjvnKFOsAtcsEbjTH2d0yeGAsp29TZ6DMfYvx__R65y_YrCaPI2hXY3m1ohbg3mZrQJjlh457uUaMQZObQQaInUx-PeI_CUbhc7k2joSF8PQRT16iHDBhl4-K/s1600/IMG_6683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqGJqMtSxgtItx1-JlwsSjvnKFOsAtcsEbjTH2d0yeGAsp29TZ6DMfYvx__R65y_YrCaPI2hXY3m1ohbg3mZrQJjlh457uUaMQZObQQaInUx-PeI_CUbhc7k2joSF8PQRT16iHDBhl4-K/s400/IMG_6683.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian, Ammon, Kiara, Marcos, & Omar</td></tr>
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We had a great time and so did the performance-goers.</div>
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Happy Halloween from our pumpkins to yours!</div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-10642286307840847512012-10-21T15:20:00.001-07:002012-10-21T15:20:18.252-07:00All Kinds of Stitches, Blood, and Gore<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sweet little Marcos! Last Sunday as I was creating a new blog post, Liliana came in the house to report that Marcos was bleeding and that he needed a band-aid. If there's anything Marcos loves, it's a good band-aid (or even a bad band-aid). He wants them all over himself and probably applies an average of 1.7 band-aids onto his little body every day. I told Lili to give him a band-aid, and she took one outside. </div>
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About an hour later, Marcos was in the house and I realized there was quite a lot of dried blood behind his right ear. I removed his band-aid and there were a few jagged edges of skin. I found out that he had been climbing on a rock jack outside and had fallen from it. I don't know where the rest of him landed, but the behind-the-right-ear portion of him landed on a barb of the barbed-wire fence. Edgar was still gone to work and wouldn't be home for another hour. I needed a second adult opinion so I called Marianne to come over and see if she thought Marcos needed stitches. She didn't know and I didn't know, but it was nice to have someone not know with me. She pointed out that behind the ear isn't a real visible part of the body, but we also discussed the fact that Marcos's hair is short and that it will probably always be short. </div>
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I called Edgar. He thought he could probably superglue Marcos's skin together. I was relieved. Edgar is always so careful with our children and their health--more careful than I am. When he got home, Edgar washed his hands and got the superglue. When he saw the flaps of skin and that they were rather jagged, he changed his mind and decided we'd better go to the emergency room. I amended the "we" and decided I'd better take our little Marcos. Edgar had to leave Monday morning at 4:00 for work. I took Marcos, Omar, some books and Marcos's blanket. </div>
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We got to the emergency room at about 9:00. After we got a bed, I started feeding Omar and reading to Marcos. Our neighbor on the other side of the curtain was friendly and told us a lot about herself and her family. Her granddaughter also happened to be in the emergency room, just one door down. I felt like we got to know quite a bit about them all. The doctor finally came and said Marcos <i>did</i> need stitches. Then, an hour or so later, he came and stitched Marcos up. He also put superglue on top of the stitches. I had to hold Marcos's ear up so that it wouldn't get superglued (Sorry, Spellcheck, I'm going to insist that superglue is a verb and that adding a "d" to it makes it a verb in past tense.) to his little head. Then about an hour later, we got to leave. We got home after 1:00 am and as I went to bed, I looked at the clock. It was 1:40 am. I thought about how Edgar's alarm would be going off in exactly two hours. I'm glad I'm the one that took Marcos to the ER. Marcos is his usual happy little self:</div>
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<img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJbC-ggij_X0FzQzUyLqKCLrpgQ4iJvBdSY-SnnBoJhbOs0aL4AL4or3lnAsN5Lce87p5kqTWiOezv5lwcj5bCIQeTRDzsm-l_w19NNh7XVYPJ5HnSXEhu-c-jlZOF74oCoVlpxMnrOTFT/s400/IMG_6658.JPG" width="400" /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9QlQ0A7z2Xl0TYifL6pLiQih9lMTp9GOdJzzdHoaS6r_-kMJeK4lvlm8mKXAxg11CLmDvGGYegjQ4WRe7THxamjCW6HqvdydrkB2akGaU9EEGqwFKoVJk4yrfgreUCziVe_l17zMbCDL/s1600/IMG_6657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9QlQ0A7z2Xl0TYifL6pLiQih9lMTp9GOdJzzdHoaS6r_-kMJeK4lvlm8mKXAxg11CLmDvGGYegjQ4WRe7THxamjCW6HqvdydrkB2akGaU9EEGqwFKoVJk4yrfgreUCziVe_l17zMbCDL/s400/IMG_6657.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I tried to capture his stitches here, but the picture's a bit blurry. I'll blame Thelma for that.</td></tr>
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Monday night we had some more blood. This time it wasn't a family member--it was Edgar's deer. Monday was the opening day of his hunting season. That evening when he came home, he was packing things up to go early the next morning to hunt. When he went outside to get something, he saw a large buck in our yard. He shot it. We don't like venison, but our friends, Alma and Juan love it. Alma told me once that they love eating deer, but that Juan is too tender-hearted to hunt. I told her that I have a blood-thirsty husband who loves to hunt, but not eat venison. Edgar called Juan and he was on his way to come and help cut up the deer (something my house and I will have NOTHING to do with!). Edgar lamented that the children (who had just gone to bed) would not get to see the deer. I knew Lili was still awake, but I didn't know about the boys. So Edgar and I, in a bid to win a Parent of the Year Award, awakened our small children and took them outside in the chilly, dark night and led them over rocks with a flashlight to see a dead deer. We left Omar in his bed. Edgar shone the flashlight on the deer. Liliana, our animal lover, hated seeing it. Ruben was somewhat interested. </div>
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Edgar said to Marcos, "Are you going to shoot a deer someday?"<br />
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Marcos: "NO!"<br />
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"Why not?"<br />
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"It scares me!"<br />
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Ammon was just bewildered that his parents had gotten him out of bed to go outside and see a dead animal in the still of the night.<br />
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We tucked them all back in bed. Sweet dreams, kids! Please don't call CPS, dear reader. Everyone seemed to sleep well with no reported nightmares. One year I took pictures of Edgar's deer and vowed not to do it again. I will spare you that image. You are welcome. <br />
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On a much more upbeat note, Tuesday we got a treasure in the mail: Omar's baby quilt that my mom somehow found time to make while serving a full-time mission:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxjqNolLJh3wRKnsN0MjJ1StC3InRJ9o60-P23Feo7VmfoWAIVtsxEO5JX56q8jYGBrUFhTG79yZuqJnogs2573Xx50fNCxZdIgZ4IRCxf688PjQw5AEqzd-ceI1tneAzzyzmBWB4FsXi/s1600/IMG_6659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxjqNolLJh3wRKnsN0MjJ1StC3InRJ9o60-P23Feo7VmfoWAIVtsxEO5JX56q8jYGBrUFhTG79yZuqJnogs2573Xx50fNCxZdIgZ4IRCxf688PjQw5AEqzd-ceI1tneAzzyzmBWB4FsXi/s400/IMG_6659.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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It is gorgeous! I don't think these pictures do it justice. Each block is quilted in great detail. It's amazing how many stitches are in this beautiful keepsake--many more than are behind Marcos's ear! (Thank goodness!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpt2Dj-jFq1aiFZxPpcr02hquEVh0U6BwLBItV7xhCGzaAMuYbh3TToqJs3RaMBmpSbIbBA3YmQA2dhyphenhyphen3R3urzGWSeqjcgJQevgHgUaFglo_2G0iw7mBu_1P2NyhmkKT9THZVVOyfE77U/s1600/IMG_6660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqpt2Dj-jFq1aiFZxPpcr02hquEVh0U6BwLBItV7xhCGzaAMuYbh3TToqJs3RaMBmpSbIbBA3YmQA2dhyphenhyphen3R3urzGWSeqjcgJQevgHgUaFglo_2G0iw7mBu_1P2NyhmkKT9THZVVOyfE77U/s400/IMG_6660.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpdc0UxMZGBHuVy5sFQ2ccF-fwRF_1q8mOJTuzz91vOqZCmh4H9ks5lHytG3CHPeoth4M_pOYfBGStg_tNKJ7xtpE4YuTDyo9YtEmB_YiJcoXO1uwd1md5GNTUE6D3FviOwy5GOXW7-Mj/s1600/IMG_6661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcpdc0UxMZGBHuVy5sFQ2ccF-fwRF_1q8mOJTuzz91vOqZCmh4H9ks5lHytG3CHPeoth4M_pOYfBGStg_tNKJ7xtpE4YuTDyo9YtEmB_YiJcoXO1uwd1md5GNTUE6D3FviOwy5GOXW7-Mj/s400/IMG_6661.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKeUAoelPhwjBfyny_Vv1ga0GJCnxGjWFMSczNz0b8FBSBwmAQB0WWJer6qd0Fi74p36lHIlkM7RFxvrR86wXtJcVjzK4si0pS07OT37Ienpymq2ofRt8Y6zaPNSqVJMduW6SpxQPp4dF/s1600/IMG_6666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAKeUAoelPhwjBfyny_Vv1ga0GJCnxGjWFMSczNz0b8FBSBwmAQB0WWJer6qd0Fi74p36lHIlkM7RFxvrR86wXtJcVjzK4si0pS07OT37Ienpymq2ofRt8Y6zaPNSqVJMduW6SpxQPp4dF/s400/IMG_6666.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As you can see, Omar is thrilled with it!</td></tr>
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The final stitch I'll address is the stitch Lili didn't get in her side when she ran her second 5K yesterday. She has been training some and was a few seconds faster than last time. She got second place for her category this time. Last time she got first. I guess next time she'll get third. She ran the whole way and did great.</div>
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This picture of her running in at the finish line is staged. I was on the side when she ran in so we took this picture later.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Fom82SG4NdnOtr-iuTwqPb1AR-vGzXdhskuFyPvuohiPEYmxD3BaYhcNwNj_0khUJfSnwr4u0Gi0AROzRfnOaHNIU7KjXFeFbeqwy0iQDnsI1aWFqOZegs6vc8GCOfrfsOL3CRUUwzbN/s1600/IMG_6646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Fom82SG4NdnOtr-iuTwqPb1AR-vGzXdhskuFyPvuohiPEYmxD3BaYhcNwNj_0khUJfSnwr4u0Gi0AROzRfnOaHNIU7KjXFeFbeqwy0iQDnsI1aWFqOZegs6vc8GCOfrfsOL3CRUUwzbN/s400/IMG_6646.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who knew I'd ever have a daughter who likes to run? </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_h2VSP4yU8HS599oRYTZujm9_ZRhlFIs8ac0HxkQwAgU1wzPGdi8F7AyzFpiF5Ud0YRdmQGw0KitJXTRCOvrGjkTTNE3LyCUt1LUcPmBYruFXeM_On90v9_So89SwWUl6avRSA7jsP28/s1600/IMG_6637.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_h2VSP4yU8HS599oRYTZujm9_ZRhlFIs8ac0HxkQwAgU1wzPGdi8F7AyzFpiF5Ud0YRdmQGw0KitJXTRCOvrGjkTTNE3LyCUt1LUcPmBYruFXeM_On90v9_So89SwWUl6avRSA7jsP28/s400/IMG_6637.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The race was a the Marina in Spring Creek. It was a great location. The boys loved watching the water and the ducks. There was also a playground nearby.</td></tr>
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Lili enjoyed running so much that she and Morgan ran off while we had a family picnic later on yesterday. She missed our photo. My 94-year-old grandma came to visit. We had a nice lunch at my uncle Drew's house with all of my aunts and uncles on my dad's side except one (of course Elder Dahl was not there either). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_xSMSm99BULgfn5h3mjXqNv7GH9ZQEHLRN2Tl799PdkaWv0YzMKkXTwFgSRY9VLg7bhHdDfhazMHG8dvRHCCvsphSUalLGiVMMMLr3NRWLNlB7Ax-oYCA3nRJvHxeLDUexfnYper-vKH/s1600/IMG_6654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid_xSMSm99BULgfn5h3mjXqNv7GH9ZQEHLRN2Tl799PdkaWv0YzMKkXTwFgSRY9VLg7bhHdDfhazMHG8dvRHCCvsphSUalLGiVMMMLr3NRWLNlB7Ax-oYCA3nRJvHxeLDUexfnYper-vKH/s400/IMG_6654.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Today was Stake Conference. Edgar wanted to take the whole weekend off, but he could only get yesterday off because too many of his work buddies had taken time off to go hunting today. (I guess that work influence is where he gets his blood-thirsty tendencies--I'm sure he doesn't get them from me or from anything I do or dream about!)<br />
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We went to the Adult Session of Stake Conference last night and it was so good. Our niece, Deseret, babysat for us and did a wonderful job. This morning Edgar got up at 3:40 to go to work. I couldn't go back to sleep until 5:30. I had set my alarm, but for some reason it didn't go off and I woke up at 7:50. Our stake conference started at 9:00 this time and I had planned to leave at 8:00. There was no way I could do that, but I rallied the children and we ate, packed snacks and books, got dressed in church clothes (except Marcos had to wear his white tennis shoes--we could not find his church shoes on such late notice!), and left by 8:25. We drove a little fast and made it to Elko and the beginning of Stake Conference at 9:00. Of course we were sitting in the back of the gymnasium on the folding chairs. Hyrum kindly sat with us and helped with the children (especially with Ammon, who adores Hyrum).<br />
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This post has gotten LONG. Sorry and thank you if you are still reading!Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-18878190790670909172012-10-14T17:07:00.001-07:002012-10-14T17:07:41.655-07:00A Beautiful Fall Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Today is the most beautiful day in the history of the world. At least, that's what my dad would say. If it isn't THE most beautiful, I bet it's in the top 17 or so. The weather is perfect and the scenery lovely. I just ate a big, crisp apple, and I think I will start singing, "It's Autumn Time." The kids and I went to enjoy autumn. Of course, we took along the camera.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Parents' House</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFbQJoPdycO5lSWDqaBvOUPI4ZsVom3IYNPx58VjV7DIOcnQwoQu5TkFhNy4wYVP3YtoVtZZnNevQVpG2SjCM_zpLE4Ow0TvS_4p7hNwnWggQQC6c4QPXAcDjWweYE7ltumXKzhiU-OYp/s1600/IMG_6532.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFbQJoPdycO5lSWDqaBvOUPI4ZsVom3IYNPx58VjV7DIOcnQwoQu5TkFhNy4wYVP3YtoVtZZnNevQVpG2SjCM_zpLE4Ow0TvS_4p7hNwnWggQQC6c4QPXAcDjWweYE7ltumXKzhiU-OYp/s400/IMG_6532.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Grandparents' Barn and Buildings</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBwf657LMO2GlMAw6gcmtYLpoVZ-GdxIrPz6dgiceXnF8TuMaKcOR97sRua7vyVOuF0b1NtZ2Ttqxufgesj-Mbf9Yupo41U1Qgn7bVBQNWHH4P4qRzEpp2ZXYRluBL_TIl4QfQU4eHRInF/s1600/IMG_6547.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBwf657LMO2GlMAw6gcmtYLpoVZ-GdxIrPz6dgiceXnF8TuMaKcOR97sRua7vyVOuF0b1NtZ2Ttqxufgesj-Mbf9Yupo41U1Qgn7bVBQNWHH4P4qRzEpp2ZXYRluBL_TIl4QfQU4eHRInF/s400/IMG_6547.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN6hR4fYFL_Hn3NXCCLzkf435Nrtv5NeizpwJpCwlUSfgCt0qOEfwmfKg6bT93qE9jSICXZad9FvRH1YaTYzKH-KNKZYc7J8dUcUZNY5xLaQKaK2JH-wX-1FGlW9AzeaKF1LSCg4hVWcJ/s1600/IMG_6608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTN6hR4fYFL_Hn3NXCCLzkf435Nrtv5NeizpwJpCwlUSfgCt0qOEfwmfKg6bT93qE9jSICXZad9FvRH1YaTYzKH-KNKZYc7J8dUcUZNY5xLaQKaK2JH-wX-1FGlW9AzeaKF1LSCg4hVWcJ/s400/IMG_6608.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Road to my <br />Grandparents' House</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eLAY9kPrbG-eitmDRLRK9EqT08M2-gmwXuIiUDzi5KM1Qry4rq_o_pWQchTJpbqbEQ18FQgPvY5tkoIEcd9ZDIj4q6eY07sJL9fadranN_AWBDdbppTvjK_LjGXAwYIkGAaoUHbDClfM/s1600/IMG_6531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eLAY9kPrbG-eitmDRLRK9EqT08M2-gmwXuIiUDzi5KM1Qry4rq_o_pWQchTJpbqbEQ18FQgPvY5tkoIEcd9ZDIj4q6eY07sJL9fadranN_AWBDdbppTvjK_LjGXAwYIkGAaoUHbDClfM/s400/IMG_6531.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Kids</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRwvWYsHU3yGIZWpoi0CbVn7pHSjrhXodvpU70ojXPQse3iZ-4zr_cvGi6DyijKyvAaUZkLgPPzazG9RvDV5p_KZePF3eHRzxHPWrcqSISqTSkUnAVuouLYcz3tZbuqPUjknCiM5brR4_/s1600/IMG_6586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiRwvWYsHU3yGIZWpoi0CbVn7pHSjrhXodvpU70ojXPQse3iZ-4zr_cvGi6DyijKyvAaUZkLgPPzazG9RvDV5p_KZePF3eHRzxHPWrcqSISqTSkUnAVuouLYcz3tZbuqPUjknCiM5brR4_/s400/IMG_6586.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili loves horses, and this one proved quite friendly.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfODMFvdMMqxH90nkPbOItUDnnyQxutb4ec0VtNxjoeNfTcIQzfodRJehImNTfVsd-ZD-KIpaMqn4-emX2vPQcGmK8XS0uVIOgswZJQ5yBZrullwAxcLFoV7Ve4Wd7b0e1gCJEKKbzwuE/s1600/IMG_6587.CR2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfODMFvdMMqxH90nkPbOItUDnnyQxutb4ec0VtNxjoeNfTcIQzfodRJehImNTfVsd-ZD-KIpaMqn4-emX2vPQcGmK8XS0uVIOgswZJQ5yBZrullwAxcLFoV7Ve4Wd7b0e1gCJEKKbzwuE/s400/IMG_6587.CR2" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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When we got home, Omar was asleep, but we took a picture of the others in front of the lovely fall tree picture Marcos made at preschool. We just harvested these big beautiful pumpkins from our garden. That's a lie. We didn't even have a garden this year. Every year we can either have a garden or a baby, and this was a baby year. The years we do have gardens, we have never been able to produce pumpkins--especially like these. The pumpkins were a good price at the grocery store, so I got one for each child to decorate and another to make dinner-in-a-pumpkin (our traditional Halloween feast which nobody likes but me--no matter, I will continue to make it every year! Traditions die hard for an Olivia.).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0BCzGIjdgwX9SlWhp8NaV_oudFQfn98l6EKX4h6c1xIe7lzY8CIW9zVosN1fBme78zoB3cxNJgTWnew_823-LsdOHvQbLcngwhPWSDcf5mOMwjgIWulqoDs3VEEimhZ8im1pCPZy5gBy/s1600/IMG_6626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY0BCzGIjdgwX9SlWhp8NaV_oudFQfn98l6EKX4h6c1xIe7lzY8CIW9zVosN1fBme78zoB3cxNJgTWnew_823-LsdOHvQbLcngwhPWSDcf5mOMwjgIWulqoDs3VEEimhZ8im1pCPZy5gBy/s400/IMG_6626.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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And here is a final picture. Omar is loving is cereal, and since he's only been eating it for a week, everyone is still excited about helping to feed him:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOidBkAhpOHo-JJO3rvWOoyS8IZn-mpISyMhyphenhyphenUaKW4XnvPulbh6ZH_9fzJmLN1kwbF8fA7T3KK86jhj6eNkV9mls-GmuqySLGKESkdPWFL_SpGzoKB9qG6fkKphcOXhp5syX1HFwtJWvlZ/s1600/IMG_6527.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOidBkAhpOHo-JJO3rvWOoyS8IZn-mpISyMhyphenhyphenUaKW4XnvPulbh6ZH_9fzJmLN1kwbF8fA7T3KK86jhj6eNkV9mls-GmuqySLGKESkdPWFL_SpGzoKB9qG6fkKphcOXhp5syX1HFwtJWvlZ/s320/IMG_6527.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Happy Fall!</i></div>
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Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-54365922664843970172012-10-08T08:18:00.000-07:002012-10-10T20:58:03.862-07:00A Near Miss, A Hungry Baby, and a CRAZY DreamI hesitate to post this picture and relay this story because it will worry my mother. This week our little Ammon was running around the house with a dull pencil in his hand. He tripped and fell and hurt his eyelid.<br />
He was screaming and had his hands over his eyes. I was so scared to see what was behind those hands, but thankfully, his eye was still in tact. His eyelid was bleeding and now he has this little scab. I repeated tests to assure his vision. I kept covering his "good" eye and giving him a thumbs-up. Each time he gave me his version of a thumbs-up sign--an index finger-up. That was reassuring.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Unfortunately, I can't account for the other scrapes on his face.</td></tr>
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With our last four babies I have been very slow to begin solid food. It is just so messy and time-consuming. Omar has an appointment on Wednesday and he's almost five months old. (How did that happen so fast?!) I had thought I would start him on cereal after our appointment, but for three nights in a row the little love woke up three times each night and seemed extra hungry. So last night (Sunday) I gave him a little cereal. He loved it! He's ready whether I have time to spoon feed him or not. It is a lot more rewarding when the little one looks like this and is tickled to get a little cereal:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbdP0nKRuSLVNx6dB7m9wov9G702UC9cBRntQX-QvrE9tOhNAWchZw7B43pM5GnaMeKf0YZaOKoT5Xw7xWqRcQ5r-nvAuzJo1VM_np-zlQVcqn8T94M_0Vy0Pqp_1ps8JqlHn8415SYrQ/s1600/IMG_6523.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidbdP0nKRuSLVNx6dB7m9wov9G702UC9cBRntQX-QvrE9tOhNAWchZw7B43pM5GnaMeKf0YZaOKoT5Xw7xWqRcQ5r-nvAuzJo1VM_np-zlQVcqn8T94M_0Vy0Pqp_1ps8JqlHn8415SYrQ/s400/IMG_6523.JPG" width="400" /> </a></div>
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And now, for my crazy dream. This is one of those things that you'll wonder about. <i>Why did she include that?</i> you will ask. I'll tell you why: I think it's fascinating that I would dream something like this and I wonder if it means something. I would like to extend an opportunity to my vast readership to interpret the dream. With that build-up, here it is:</div>
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I was cooking dinner for my family and my parents (who were here at my house) and also Marianne's three youngest children. Carolina (Marianne's youngest) was sitting on the counter top helping me. I was slicing pork from a pork roast and putting it on top of rice. I realized that I wasn't going to have enough meat for everyone and so I matter-of-factly (which must not be a word because it's underlined in red squiggly) cut off Carolina's hand (which really isn't too meaty) and put it on top of the casserole-like dish I was making. It sounds disgusting, but in the dream there was no blood and Carolina didn't even flinch. As I was putting the dish in the oven to bake and using both of my hands, I realized that things might be difficult for little 'Lina without both hands. I also realized that Marianne might be upset that I had cut off her child's hand and eaten it. I asked my mom, who was helping with the dinner preparations, what she thought. She was undecided and didn't think it was a big deal. I wondered if I should try to salvage the hand and take Carolina to the Emergency Room to try to get her hand sewn back on. I wasn't sure what I should do with my own children while I took Carolina to the hospital. It seems like my mom offered to stay with my kids if I decided to take Carolina to the hospital. I got the dish out of the oven and was going to retrieve Carolina's hand. Then I woke up. I was horrified and when I realized it was only a dream I was incredibly relieved. Now, what do you think of that?</div>
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By the way, this week I came across the word "whoa" in several different things I was reading. Though none of you helped me, I was able to ascertain the proper spelling through my own stumblings (which also must not be a word--more red squiggly).</div>
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Au Revoir! Again, the French class. </div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-66611487734873388932012-09-30T19:36:00.001-07:002012-09-30T19:41:05.535-07:00I Love These Kids!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I love having a nine-year-old girl. She is learning to do more and more on her own, and it is fun to watch her. This week Liliana wanted to bake and decorate a cake like the ones in her American Girl magazine. She did a great job. I got to go with her (thanks to dear sister-in-law Jennifer keeping the boys!) to Activity Day this week to try to sew together. Like always, the seam ripper was my best friend. I don't know if I can help Lili sew when I'm so bad at it myself, but it was great to be with her.<img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj16GIPpztXZbh5c0vXdGnOKRr9RXkKGDmOzOf9LuSUnDgFGj5ddsx2QkNscCZGahpzJB4oBhJBBm_pZnqIYmIjGfIvbfdrs5qqoOz0294CllY0yr497wAyctyNIRIYtYT01zQibqBfJmY/s400/IMG_6504.JPG" width="400" /></div>
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The next best thing to having a sister is having a Carolina cousin as a neighbor. This week Carolina came over and the girls dressed up. They're so lovely:</div>
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I love having a two-year-old boy. Ammon is into giving a thumbs up and a squinty grin. (Why does squinty have a red squiggly line under it? Marianne? Am I spelling that wrong?) The best thing about it is that Ammon substitutes his index finger for his thumb and doesn't know the difference. I love it!</div>
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I love having a seven-year-old boy. Ruben looks like a jack-o-lantern these days with several missing teeth. His dress-up du jour (you can tell I'm taking an on-line French class, can't you?) is Buzz Lightyear. I know, his winter snowsuit and coat and gloves don't make him look a lick like Buzz Light Year, but in his mind it all does. I love his imagination (and how sweaty he gets running around in his winter gear). Since he's so into Buzz Light Year, he thinks he would like a Buzz Lightyear birthday party. I offered to dress up as Buzz for the party. Ruben said, "No thanks, Mom. I think that would make me nervous." (Uh oh, Lightyear is underlined too. Doesn't spellcheck know about
Disney Pixar characters? Woa!--woa and spellcheck and Pixar are also
underlined! I'd better quit while I'm ahead!)</div>
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I love having a four-year-old boy who still has no problem getting in touch with his feminine side. Marcos likes to pretend he's a "sister" by putting hair bows in his hair. Next to having Carolina for a cousin, Marcos is the closest Lili can get for a sister. Marcos gets quiet and docile when he's a sister. We're going to have him pretend to be a sister during the upcoming Primary Program.</div>
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I love having a baby! This sweet little fellow makes my day every day with his happy smile. He is so good. Last night while I was at the <a href="http://www.lds.org/broadcasts/archive/general-relief-society-meeting/2012/09?lang=eng">General Relief Society Meeting, </a>he stayed home with Edgar and did great. Then he slept through the whole night for me. By the way, the General Relief Society Meeting was excellent!</div>
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I love these five little monkeys!<br />
P.S: In your opinion, is turquoise considered a fall (as in autumn) color? I'm just wondering. </div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-20677780494715428992012-09-23T17:49:00.002-07:002012-09-23T17:49:54.331-07:00Our Trip to Nauvoo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0tmbvk5KolBszoSRX76vhnflKT4sDgi4fQSy3oqpWtQoGHyFVi5MOVVqxe3bPqh4kGF71e9Xol9n-9lEUedXwal-4b4vNMlLMtVLgJZZM81naJlY8FNvhqq_Q6UlQG7vSb1nw8cWY9Do/s1600/IMG_6191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
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I took way too many pictures on our trip to Nauvoo. If you don't believe me, ask my parents. At one point my mom said, "You know, Olivia, you don't need a picture of <i>every</i> site." I knew, but I was trying to take a bit of that wonderful Nauvoo feeling home with me. Every place was so spiritual and beautiful. My plethora of photos started even before we reached Nauvoo though. It was the first time we'd driven over the Rocky Mountains. They were gorgeous. The leaves were starting to change color, and it rained for two days straight as we drove through Colorado and Kansas and Missouri. It felt good to us thirsty Nevadans to get drenched.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUGpgjP9YB9MnzHeUdL1c3kRahBozOFRMpSV2ZIcHQWZeVj01i0r2pm7WSmGs3ZGKCkfkZeASQeZ6pa5FYLJkq2T7kxoXE5AKa8ZF_MtXaFrZ4tvoKpumNvfESKqJY14-qhVGxF28bn2T/s400/IMG_6042.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These weren't necessarily the most beautiful trees we saw, but we were stopped anyway, and decided to take a picture. Somebody had to go to the bathroom or Omar had to eat or my conscientious Edgar felt he ought to check the tire pressure. Needless to say, it was NOT a non-stop drive. We stopped an awful lot.<br /><div class="MsoNormal">
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In Golden, Colorado (near Denver), we went to a Railroad Museum that we'd been planning on visiting for months. My boys all love trains. The day we went to the museum it was pouring rain. The museum is 15 acres large and almost all outside. The museum staff was so kind. They gave us a rain check so that we can return and see the museum for free when it's not raining. I'm not sure when we'll be back there, but it was a great gesture. We bought all the kids hats and took some nice pictures anyway. <br />
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In Independence, Missouri, we went to the LDS Visitors' Center. It was a lovely place. We went on a little tour with a nice sister missionary. My youngest boys were very restless and had a hard time paying attention, but at the end, when we approached the Christus statue, they sensed something. Ammon came and sat on my lap and Marcos settled down and snuggled into me as we listened to some of the words of the Savior from the New Testament. "Come unto me, all ye who labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." I got teary for the first (but definitely not the last) time. It was very spiritual and even my littlest children felt something of the love of the Lord.</div>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6d5fvq1DWuh_OUkhbLkc7FgZoFWR_L-EYJjmEJFxpb2_bXW38yNRqALH2S26fH36NV9sCn17n9YIQy_Moo9LKRrr5XgZ-PrM0EcO-GM17me3JXCdLhG_YwrzBgDATPRbyFCXpoxyhGx2T/s400/IMG_6093.JPG" width="266" /></div>
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With our frequent stops and slow travel, it took awhile. We stopped at Liberty Jail and Adam-Ondi-Ahman. Finally, we arrived in Nauvoo and had these wonderful folks waiting for us outside their house:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzw-sUOFXL-6BUE3YCcXuV7dROBxJuzi-X9Pc9w3NL_GHGtNBir70Oh9bL-rIA3IdZWgSIiRBk8cxTtebs5HR8S8VDNFuXf1Ng7uiCnvuJpegJxUHvqZyeH_KYKu4lZxylNIwMst-FiAy4/s1600/IMG_6113.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzw-sUOFXL-6BUE3YCcXuV7dROBxJuzi-X9Pc9w3NL_GHGtNBir70Oh9bL-rIA3IdZWgSIiRBk8cxTtebs5HR8S8VDNFuXf1Ng7uiCnvuJpegJxUHvqZyeH_KYKu4lZxylNIwMst-FiAy4/s400/IMG_6113.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Could there be a more welcome sight? It was actually dark the night we got there--this picture was taken the next night before Elder and Sister Dahl's performance in Rendezvous. Please note the hose. They seem to be a great rarity in the mid-west. I guess you can either have rain or hoses. In Nevada we have hoses.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td></tr>
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Here are the performers in action:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO88f72tFRtRC2svYzrRHfo7JnDgA2TnNuGrRQswMfLbUtxJFSUEiNmihBBBnJ76bwDLgFTNuSTNx3amdzCYKiQzUBL0NTWYgjEA7oMK7JWiomKh2mPw0gaUwvYVxBdXkQiDm9pk8fUmv2/s400/IMG_6122.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They were so great! We were right on the front row, cheering them on.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIxCdmMoFvZNdAJlW0ggO14HlJR8wK9YsoHUnBGba0rQEg8QbkgY3LWudOBHHLZYYrudLf3FTA04T3H8u6pE9plvI_5ExGpnroj6TZyMrFCLFeNdIAQrPvkpVifCp8eBJrEj-h20QHE0oc/s1600/IMG_6207.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIxCdmMoFvZNdAJlW0ggO14HlJR8wK9YsoHUnBGba0rQEg8QbkgY3LWudOBHHLZYYrudLf3FTA04T3H8u6pE9plvI_5ExGpnroj6TZyMrFCLFeNdIAQrPvkpVifCp8eBJrEj-h20QHE0oc/s400/IMG_6207.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0tmbvk5KolBszoSRX76vhnflKT4sDgi4fQSy3oqpWtQoGHyFVi5MOVVqxe3bPqh4kGF71e9Xol9n-9lEUedXwal-4b4vNMlLMtVLgJZZM81naJlY8FNvhqq_Q6UlQG7vSb1nw8cWY9Do/s1600/IMG_6191.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0tmbvk5KolBszoSRX76vhnflKT4sDgi4fQSy3oqpWtQoGHyFVi5MOVVqxe3bPqh4kGF71e9Xol9n-9lEUedXwal-4b4vNMlLMtVLgJZZM81naJlY8FNvhqq_Q6UlQG7vSb1nw8cWY9Do/s320/IMG_6191.JPG" width="212" /> </a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Afterwards, they practiced a part for us that they are preparing to do later. Let me tell you, these parents of mine have talent!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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After the show, we felt like celebrities. So many wonderful senior missionaries, missing their own grandchildren, doted on my kids. They let them try on their fancy hats and told them they were cute.</div>
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Here are some other shots from beautiful Nauvoo:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKNljCdQXDvvFeOuYpBGfhynG6ZTgz3HF_tzR90x4E-g8o8gwFXwkB9Px-1xBs4UTdsAUdIvc7hNrW1C6QGK08jH1aeKRDgQfDoYSZM1Sh_8syaSnfwy-PkiTtlsIKOvjVuK7u7IKXzbO/s1600/IMG_6250.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOKNljCdQXDvvFeOuYpBGfhynG6ZTgz3HF_tzR90x4E-g8o8gwFXwkB9Px-1xBs4UTdsAUdIvc7hNrW1C6QGK08jH1aeKRDgQfDoYSZM1Sh_8syaSnfwy-PkiTtlsIKOvjVuK7u7IKXzbO/s400/IMG_6250.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili took this picture of Edgar and me in front of the Nauvoo temple. I think it looks a little like an engagement shot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-hXpVAw5QDk_-FA0AZYLAPRFn2cgYLkdpq24lapmVWWqYGP0KjCoRAklyRPeWY8QsKfUHN-s4c3wgzdun4ixtogUkiRGZ-bIr-BzU7YdH8QX9fH4ll1nsvKrFD1iU5suEj6otSDxJKPT/s1600/IMG_6236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-hXpVAw5QDk_-FA0AZYLAPRFn2cgYLkdpq24lapmVWWqYGP0KjCoRAklyRPeWY8QsKfUHN-s4c3wgzdun4ixtogUkiRGZ-bIr-BzU7YdH8QX9fH4ll1nsvKrFD1iU5suEj6otSDxJKPT/s400/IMG_6236.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was in an ox wagon. I was snapping my finger so that Ammon would look at the camera.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEr-toCH11EY2pX1pl27u1BusjqBqXQkDNukvhye_DllBw7ngpn0qv1G6uF8xuKh6dXBsGRgNFXlj-HT8Iaiv3Ir4DS4sse0L9sK7O38fb2yri5zDityYYFsJdPF0WHBG_7HHrQtYEz1mR/s1600/IMG_6413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEr-toCH11EY2pX1pl27u1BusjqBqXQkDNukvhye_DllBw7ngpn0qv1G6uF8xuKh6dXBsGRgNFXlj-HT8Iaiv3Ir4DS4sse0L9sK7O38fb2yri5zDityYYFsJdPF0WHBG_7HHrQtYEz1mR/s400/IMG_6413.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elder Dahl, narrated a carriage ride. I loved it. He did such a good job.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWdA2BZIZCqhbKFWvTjol9tujsZbZPVExado79Z1AWGK2TE9096LfGour9vcqEfSKKwbpD9_Rq90G22hq4aPawL55cLWx2jgzskG-novFmMLw2sSUI-T_1yWrhPofupHCfu73PLLbh59O/s1600/IMG_6431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWdA2BZIZCqhbKFWvTjol9tujsZbZPVExado79Z1AWGK2TE9096LfGour9vcqEfSKKwbpD9_Rq90G22hq4aPawL55cLWx2jgzskG-novFmMLw2sSUI-T_1yWrhPofupHCfu73PLLbh59O/s400/IMG_6431.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister Dahl narrated the wagon ride we went on and Elder Dahl drove. They were wonderful, and I just loved seeing them in action!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here we were at Carthage Jail. It was a sobering place, but the Church has made it (and all of their sites) so beautiful with gorgeous and well-cared for flowers everywhere.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VcfNlXVDmkPTeKzTUqu_t8hLzaR_KSVv7VTd1MeICBjnXyaji6chkyFGxL4FcZQ-CwYYquuGYQtGTvWzi-f1ZTBT35db_Hb_tZXbgBo7h2Fz0P3Y-veAu0ColhWgGLU00s9GF0A4fjVi/s1600/IMG_6222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0VcfNlXVDmkPTeKzTUqu_t8hLzaR_KSVv7VTd1MeICBjnXyaji6chkyFGxL4FcZQ-CwYYquuGYQtGTvWzi-f1ZTBT35db_Hb_tZXbgBo7h2Fz0P3Y-veAu0ColhWgGLU00s9GF0A4fjVi/s400/IMG_6222.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister Dahl gave us a tour of the Log School House in Nauvoo. We loved it.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQ2eboq4abifzEjutNwEah8R7khA-cSqJT6qoTIB-7yJ9lSwhgmZ2bUOGUfp1Pvg4FGS9GuxKR1tGfHY1OYahIpGlLXhHMJ1icr__vs-fee-PHf9BHtRD0_S662VYCiNh2U9lNIJ9-G2N/s1600/IMG_6111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuQ2eboq4abifzEjutNwEah8R7khA-cSqJT6qoTIB-7yJ9lSwhgmZ2bUOGUfp1Pvg4FGS9GuxKR1tGfHY1OYahIpGlLXhHMJ1icr__vs-fee-PHf9BHtRD0_S662VYCiNh2U9lNIJ9-G2N/s400/IMG_6111.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sister Dahl also made these darling hats for each of the kids. They loved the hats and insisted on wearing them all the time. Even little Omar got one.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vYs-NABtBdDTmKGwGrLWDEcQz-FxIHMbCKaXC_OBP2NmMezF-tMWYIdPKh1QviElJoEABYlpN2Wcz3KqFIHVSBmx6vjNWn6NBLScO6r9YsA8xH9zE1C2GC9pvOuUN9aJL7tTTBR8RKKh/s1600/DSC_0075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3vYs-NABtBdDTmKGwGrLWDEcQz-FxIHMbCKaXC_OBP2NmMezF-tMWYIdPKh1QviElJoEABYlpN2Wcz3KqFIHVSBmx6vjNWn6NBLScO6r9YsA8xH9zE1C2GC9pvOuUN9aJL7tTTBR8RKKh/s400/DSC_0075.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our tour of the Cultural Hall, Sister Jardine had us dance on the dance floor because it is the original floor from the good old days when the city of Nauvoo was in full swing. Edgar was very hesitant to dance and he wouldn't have done it just for me, but the outside pressure from Sister Jardine and my mom was too much for my Eddie.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFUhJdCFmib0CC_9uUUUAUzHLuz2rGaoNxV9sTk1xYBuCCVBgoXCgREGT7VwPiyHuy1e9CCzLEMpjw5zh1Tkquo3gT_LCMemmNrnQO6bHuDw5Y7vvFcQLYAQsgbfhA3YtxLrWhbqWHfA8/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIFUhJdCFmib0CC_9uUUUAUzHLuz2rGaoNxV9sTk1xYBuCCVBgoXCgREGT7VwPiyHuy1e9CCzLEMpjw5zh1Tkquo3gT_LCMemmNrnQO6bHuDw5Y7vvFcQLYAQsgbfhA3YtxLrWhbqWHfA8/s400/DSC_0061.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Elder Dahl in the Browning Gun Shop with the Cobian children.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLY3nbTIM6A8IftKV1Z2izbcRMpgQQt9OBjUaBJp70PvUUwhhaMdRxSawK8WoXezbt1GqtNwTX6InmWwCHqIyCxn1gc1Y_UF3UlWQXACvEaxebnJOM0Wj4YqCMnjW9zBHt_s79RB85ruUV/s1600/DSC_0085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLY3nbTIM6A8IftKV1Z2izbcRMpgQQt9OBjUaBJp70PvUUwhhaMdRxSawK8WoXezbt1GqtNwTX6InmWwCHqIyCxn1gc1Y_UF3UlWQXACvEaxebnJOM0Wj4YqCMnjW9zBHt_s79RB85ruUV/s400/DSC_0085.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture was taken in the Seventies' Hall. This is where missionaries were trained. With our current missionaries and all our future missionaries, we thought we'd better take a photo.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wWDmLdT2tfjqN8tusjweokSkYCfdAKlIFaEQ39PrwS-PrnPY_cJCjaGIQmiUNnogMvHW90j41i1oBC5hCjv-gtaGGT8pzwVFQqou3Y6lwLz_Ng_av3x7mgomwv9bI1ES31uj1mfwt_ll/s1600/IMG_6486.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-wWDmLdT2tfjqN8tusjweokSkYCfdAKlIFaEQ39PrwS-PrnPY_cJCjaGIQmiUNnogMvHW90j41i1oBC5hCjv-gtaGGT8pzwVFQqou3Y6lwLz_Ng_av3x7mgomwv9bI1ES31uj1mfwt_ll/s400/IMG_6486.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This picture is at the Winter Quarters Visitors' Center. The kids got to dress up as pioneers and pull a hand cart.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKPaIcvBDmDryN6DO6EiDc1H2F2wvjt7xyH2igCu8QWaYjD-nKgSyhPNDvdHAwjcjUgizhF2J8GtzaTzy1kVmARi_KgZxffJA8wc6G6mucPC2mek2vUkcWFBiMOKvKf-zlnAPIgJDygRE/s1600/IMG_6495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilKPaIcvBDmDryN6DO6EiDc1H2F2wvjt7xyH2igCu8QWaYjD-nKgSyhPNDvdHAwjcjUgizhF2J8GtzaTzy1kVmARi_KgZxffJA8wc6G6mucPC2mek2vUkcWFBiMOKvKf-zlnAPIgJDygRE/s400/IMG_6495.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near Cheyenne, Wyoming, we took these pictures on our way home at a bison ranch. We were too late in the day to take a train ride to see the buffalo, but we did get a shot with this fellow. Our kids are so different. Ruben had no desire to "ride" the buffalo, and Ammon wouldn't even get close enough to the buffalo to be in the picture, but Marcos couldn't wait to get up there!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_AOPX1qY4yUnN2p32FkVMrGRPZyyXaddz7cCw_qy6tiENET4Od1SDFI-lo3DnW6_mm2iCIMhudMQMKg0FKrmO_coldXzH7XN2TfnPA4-i94yjlMcNjddYxnHGBrj3sknt_nuyM2qhwPR/s1600/IMG_6496.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD_AOPX1qY4yUnN2p32FkVMrGRPZyyXaddz7cCw_qy6tiENET4Od1SDFI-lo3DnW6_mm2iCIMhudMQMKg0FKrmO_coldXzH7XN2TfnPA4-i94yjlMcNjddYxnHGBrj3sknt_nuyM2qhwPR/s400/IMG_6496.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili rode the jack-o-lope.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHD-bm2TPtYAdlp-IXuDlW8Nn4O0iEa7XhLKnIKg_GSODkuQz12A1qrX86PP4jZWek00J2TDutszcaCtMdEt9eVk1iS1IVx4fiSVv-fpqxRDz6gJBItfwPrqdEjXTLm2wtWbkvjDNHXqm8/s1600/IMG_6498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHD-bm2TPtYAdlp-IXuDlW8Nn4O0iEa7XhLKnIKg_GSODkuQz12A1qrX86PP4jZWek00J2TDutszcaCtMdEt9eVk1iS1IVx4fiSVv-fpqxRDz6gJBItfwPrqdEjXTLm2wtWbkvjDNHXqm8/s400/IMG_6498.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Though we didn't see any live buffalo, we saw a lot of other animals. This camel was overly friendly, and kept trying to put its head near mine. I was a little nervous because there was a sign that said, "Camels can bite and spit."</td></tr>
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We enjoyed Nauvoo so much that I think everyone should visit there. If you act quickly, and go within this next year, you'll get to see these wonderful missionaries there:</div>
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<br />Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-70711137613957095352012-09-09T19:09:00.000-07:002012-09-09T19:09:23.260-07:00THE COBIANS, or in other words, NACHO BITES<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Usually, this is what you see atop our piano:</div>
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<img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqJjREqlvJtPL8o91IfNNOhuQtPHBEAsRAfAtUXEvifPM7OCxS_narAxCa_09oIriQszwCO8ubB5031EO0jE0MHhZnEyl5Ll4wEAuW-8HxwR3eVaY0e2jyUkORH27XI58ZD4ZEIOQNJcuY/s400/IMG_6017.JPG" width="400" /> </div>
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Last weekend when (one of) my clever brother(s), Ammon, and his family stayed with us, this is what we found atop the piano:</div>
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I never knew our name could do that.</div>
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This post will have more pictures than you ever wanted to see. Last week our computer had crashed and I did not blog. Labor Day weekend was very big for us. It was our county fair. It was also Omar's blessing in church. Tabor and Ammon and their dear families came for fair, but I think mostly for blessing (I think it's fun to omit articles). Actually, Ammon's family didn't make it to the fair at all--as you can see, they are missing in this picture of a lot of us watching the fair parade on the sidewalk by Capriola's in Elko:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiyPGrx0OGmAaheG1_A7_7_j-LsRxypcfZwU6HSAQWU_hesgPTickHvAgtbrMz2eo7k-VDhuIh9Jn9QuwQFWZdZAnBXKEXAD2vJ10XkY5QnWegJUtxvJnTbabiefDOSERDjWCk_wXjZVqW/s1600/IMG_5913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiyPGrx0OGmAaheG1_A7_7_j-LsRxypcfZwU6HSAQWU_hesgPTickHvAgtbrMz2eo7k-VDhuIh9Jn9QuwQFWZdZAnBXKEXAD2vJ10XkY5QnWegJUtxvJnTbabiefDOSERDjWCk_wXjZVqW/s400/IMG_5913.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Poor Ruby was traumatized (as were many of the children) by a float promoting a scary haunted house. As the scary people came by giving flyers and candy, my son Ammon also cried. I told them they were scaring children. They didn't care. I think that's what they wanted to do.</td></tr>
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Ruben could not have been happier with his white ribbon that he won for his Lego race car. He got a red ribbon on his race car drawing and he had a blue ribbon from last year. Now, when we sing "You're a Grand Old Flag" as part of our school, he collects his red, white, and blue ribbons and marches around. Patriotic little fellow. <br />
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I was really glad Lili got a blue ribbon on her snickerdoodles this year. Last year she made delicious peanut butter cookies and got a white ribbon. We love white ribbons (see above), but what bothered me was that all of the peanut butter cookies were there--the judges hadn't even tasted them. I didn't notice this year if they had tasted them or not. We had the blue ribbon; I was content.<br />
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On Sunday (September 2) was little Omar's blessing. He looked adorable in his little blessing suit. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVs2BcjPDHT0cQrTfBECoHsWqepHpTgJphHCnZGTyMXhKM-Nvcp898N4eV6Nze8ydtQA0tTm_Zn5kml6C8QwTYjIwC1Zc7Qro2rJH2nBV_lWNYKnzwo0Jqwo3TAtOZGWPnE47___nzbeAU/s1600/IMG_5931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVs2BcjPDHT0cQrTfBECoHsWqepHpTgJphHCnZGTyMXhKM-Nvcp898N4eV6Nze8ydtQA0tTm_Zn5kml6C8QwTYjIwC1Zc7Qro2rJH2nBV_lWNYKnzwo0Jqwo3TAtOZGWPnE47___nzbeAU/s400/IMG_5931.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
He wore booties that his Grandma Dahl gave me before she became Sister Dahl, full-time missionary. He also used the beautiful white afghan that his Grandma Dahl made for Lili when she was blessed. All of our children have used it on their blessing days.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVy2coXLAM-HTBxUJ4CcThwphe7VTV1qu5z8wmbfp3FLD7eVFBlu1AEWkXS9TKvqkxzf-WmeNmdElXIfEw4oCJ6hR7K9xImmXBykHw0ulQhDT_URHcUarJyTcwks3gYtbphVN1a0li4v11/s1600/IMG_5932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVy2coXLAM-HTBxUJ4CcThwphe7VTV1qu5z8wmbfp3FLD7eVFBlu1AEWkXS9TKvqkxzf-WmeNmdElXIfEw4oCJ6hR7K9xImmXBykHw0ulQhDT_URHcUarJyTcwks3gYtbphVN1a0li4v11/s400/IMG_5932.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have you ever seen such a cute baby?</td></tr>
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Here are all The Cobians (Nacho Bites) before church:</div>
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And here's brother Ammon's family before church. They're a good-looking group. </div>
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Three of Edgar's siblings and their families and his mom all came to Sacrament Meeting to see Omar blessed. When I saw them come in, I started crying. Their love and support, and the love and support of my side of the family, really touched me. Of course then I felt silly and didn't want them to see me cry. Here is Abuelita with Omarcito:</div>
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcwZbCSkXYx-CRot-n2FfdtQ0uzt1T1KuUExt09Gov3l1yuyOvCcBfQSJePCPuDa_aIXvRqsUCaxti2Lifez8ecgVgkrxUF6jDG1_FumQBqO4CUPWKsJyGabJnTh1cMnwaG_kPWmRNX5Tm/s400/IMG_5953.JPG" width="266" /> </div>
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This couple needs to have more children (they only have six):</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVtrvgIkVcSm4tmjXWL1A4UXU7fWnTLkGqqON_kexUE2YSqKObIn5jw8XB7ZQBd1ZE-_nfW1KHrw1FlrBYLWXh2xNIokN2fgQ4xeVXdF2dSHr0KD8ZiPD5HXhGbxNcpMWFVqwGHLYtHu2m/s400/IMG_5966.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Robert & Marianne with Azure and Omar</td></tr>
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Of course, if they have more of their own, they won't be quite as available to help out with everybody else's.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkO3GaeyFoUvF0mwcuacBMXRXcmcqOJWwLd928HrQtEbDHRAgsaIzKQYph4YIrUOfRpYPHHTF-5P-xEiz_WasE41raAL8c5P1eRD8NDd0KyELFe-TCB_qPz8W-iiTH1EwQFapfxRQn_7W/s1600/IMG_5970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkO3GaeyFoUvF0mwcuacBMXRXcmcqOJWwLd928HrQtEbDHRAgsaIzKQYph4YIrUOfRpYPHHTF-5P-xEiz_WasE41raAL8c5P1eRD8NDd0KyELFe-TCB_qPz8W-iiTH1EwQFapfxRQn_7W/s400/IMG_5970.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cousins</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81NH0jr0oBK5Z6CipV64ASGhowjiH4socwgv7Ls5u373i0D7HePbiU5i79vWt66jQQMlr2L5Zgl_j8x6PWknbg2t8zWHNIJ7drDxpdZLuAbrYj_7okSt5MniSXIx1wsz3tLaDnQkR3VMG/s1600/IMG_5973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi81NH0jr0oBK5Z6CipV64ASGhowjiH4socwgv7Ls5u373i0D7HePbiU5i79vWt66jQQMlr2L5Zgl_j8x6PWknbg2t8zWHNIJ7drDxpdZLuAbrYj_7okSt5MniSXIx1wsz3tLaDnQkR3VMG/s400/IMG_5973.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More cousins--and there are many more not pictured. What a blessing for our kids to have so many cousins on both sides of the family!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvQBoOtCTJKaXioOXIhTyXqPuuJZOzMPDd_C4BxVnGBZzV64Krgkcwf4o8VSXIG1uJ2J3W71zVc7vPE45GpQZ_XVUayeVypgnJOhTYaDPFtcYDje4wqvQNR9X3SP_cN78xb0OcNVExfho/s1600/IMG_5976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKvQBoOtCTJKaXioOXIhTyXqPuuJZOzMPDd_C4BxVnGBZzV64Krgkcwf4o8VSXIG1uJ2J3W71zVc7vPE45GpQZ_XVUayeVypgnJOhTYaDPFtcYDje4wqvQNR9X3SP_cN78xb0OcNVExfho/s400/IMG_5976.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An after-dinner shot.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixk-j_Y3Kb8imf26EJwQjQ5heaKcRtzeq5DaYL2-PcJ7isGoIMvqgJqj-exMwY7Ob1ouKP7OVk1WvCRlU2tivbc4umur-fArcAAShzl87DGS-ykYT-vaD-uOnB4XwrmacDZm2AXxHtff6z/s1600/IMG_5982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixk-j_Y3Kb8imf26EJwQjQ5heaKcRtzeq5DaYL2-PcJ7isGoIMvqgJqj-exMwY7Ob1ouKP7OVk1WvCRlU2tivbc4umur-fArcAAShzl87DGS-ykYT-vaD-uOnB4XwrmacDZm2AXxHtff6z/s400/IMG_5982.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An after-dinner nap.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgllVuYIPgXsYPc8SEbAga6rvUhL9piSD4OIm3ADaf0mayS2NSg9q3mUn7WDifCENn93e-fgyV2t4K_wDVu21Di-gTOMtdBN6_UzZQCtLbrfh25rnUs-v5lUzJzZuoQWi-QUztX0zYk_WPn/s1600/IMG_5983.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgllVuYIPgXsYPc8SEbAga6rvUhL9piSD4OIm3ADaf0mayS2NSg9q3mUn7WDifCENn93e-fgyV2t4K_wDVu21Di-gTOMtdBN6_UzZQCtLbrfh25rnUs-v5lUzJzZuoQWi-QUztX0zYk_WPn/s400/IMG_5983.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An after-dinner braid. I thought it was so cute how Hyrum was braiding Carolina's hair.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoJEWy3B1EaVZIRSFkMy4ZY7PxscEf9903nbd1mILRgree8lyhHFEhOwV4aV7PD1ZxcLXCrF0p0xJIkgV3qR0rWguiOOwQXMHtxjN0S61nQnaeuLgG2kwdS2zBLd3RJWeG9bHKAj0pAC_/s1600/IMG_5988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoJEWy3B1EaVZIRSFkMy4ZY7PxscEf9903nbd1mILRgree8lyhHFEhOwV4aV7PD1ZxcLXCrF0p0xJIkgV3qR0rWguiOOwQXMHtxjN0S61nQnaeuLgG2kwdS2zBLd3RJWeG9bHKAj0pAC_/s400/IMG_5988.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE OLIVIAS--My niece Olivia is fortunately much more attractive than I.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8VtWdnDBMYEdpUFXpmdY-XWJEvq2AgPPVVL54UE2lu2HaGOnS_ow813iWsFTf2lSbn373Ovg9fii_JT3dMi7QpSkuqlbDLQX1iWSax58r2OhwGmOFyeOYNpL84za58WjkZJFAM52eQN7/s1600/IMG_5987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl8VtWdnDBMYEdpUFXpmdY-XWJEvq2AgPPVVL54UE2lu2HaGOnS_ow813iWsFTf2lSbn373Ovg9fii_JT3dMi7QpSkuqlbDLQX1iWSax58r2OhwGmOFyeOYNpL84za58WjkZJFAM52eQN7/s400/IMG_5987.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE AMMONS--Both are very attractive and this time we didn't let Ammon the Younger know we were taking the picture. I think this is the first Ammon shot in which Ammon the Younger is not crying.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5PINmAEAjbBH4uuLeXsti0BohOP5VdT2EwtaS7mqOZI7zxdDUnv0bjMRqkMygFujE7X_dqOPMJxJCFrQIwa6zp5Ep_IEvvFLZYRfnpjNvldGf2jAv0zMLfxklD_6JSRTMpwJ4eF6fM80/s1600/IMG_5990.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz5PINmAEAjbBH4uuLeXsti0BohOP5VdT2EwtaS7mqOZI7zxdDUnv0bjMRqkMygFujE7X_dqOPMJxJCFrQIwa6zp5Ep_IEvvFLZYRfnpjNvldGf2jAv0zMLfxklD_6JSRTMpwJ4eF6fM80/s400/IMG_5990.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">THE MISCELLANEOUS-NO-WE-WILL-NOT-SMILE-FOR-THE-CAMERA GROUP--Edgar aspires to join this one.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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And now, as if we haven't seen enough, we fast-forward to today. It is Marcos's fourth birthday and it has been a delight. His Sunbeam teacher brought cupcakes and he got a chocolate bar from the Primary. He is so exuberant, that giving him a gift is a great pleasure.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRBFvubFG8e-XHfHidCfRgu0WauFnTn5vIUyNV3i2IBQclLg8Knbunzexa9wIwUt-FRWTd3oRLq9kxU8i5r4Ze_BroUaAJiYYpVlZeFGdGc0P7ONPiHdcOMBxBv8U0q6CDZrJGPBgZWm0C/s400/IMG_5995.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="266" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All the Cobian children this morning in their PJs</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1UunOJF04E4oBjebr_2otd91eaEh4OWwY2NQ97NhqZnkIRhkpAc2jquqDByRt7xFbp0IVlZR0bScY9zko6f-Xz718CafjcziDiPzJo1XlvJe4rYnQR6oRzBJAeIR0Yu64yzdyzKedgCk/s1600/IMG_5998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv1UunOJF04E4oBjebr_2otd91eaEh4OWwY2NQ97NhqZnkIRhkpAc2jquqDByRt7xFbp0IVlZR0bScY9zko6f-Xz718CafjcziDiPzJo1XlvJe4rYnQR6oRzBJAeIR0Yu64yzdyzKedgCk/s400/IMG_5998.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See what I mean? He's so tickled.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNW127hRZUOdOWalwZokrBKc7sz0miqYOlfDBNmU4jbBhy7kTNqSdTjHqmxlGDZLgIdSZCM3AGLxWKY8k45QPy4rqDZz93NGUsQ6-utLdoLOv2PmMMgYzO-9KUNLOWDLKq1KZ_rykeiYcJ/s1600/IMG_6001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNW127hRZUOdOWalwZokrBKc7sz0miqYOlfDBNmU4jbBhy7kTNqSdTjHqmxlGDZLgIdSZCM3AGLxWKY8k45QPy4rqDZz93NGUsQ6-utLdoLOv2PmMMgYzO-9KUNLOWDLKq1KZ_rykeiYcJ/s400/IMG_6001.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what Elder & Sister Dahl gave him.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXVrpSOFhnwS73xYviegW9AGsJSz5vlvCqb0s_rrebOFqNPYnkhxwoexrAgJTPwiURfkRd9KKROqlEd8DC71AnutG-iJBEmJQDDamSGXrE51NotZs239Po4tVlPLu_uYKAGOCj1oUZ9M1L/s1600/IMG_6002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXVrpSOFhnwS73xYviegW9AGsJSz5vlvCqb0s_rrebOFqNPYnkhxwoexrAgJTPwiURfkRd9KKROqlEd8DC71AnutG-iJBEmJQDDamSGXrE51NotZs239Po4tVlPLu_uYKAGOCj1oUZ9M1L/s400/IMG_6002.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruben made Marcos a cardboard sword. Later Ruben said Marcos did NOT deserve the sword because Marcos was not letting Ruben play with his new toys.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFp_STwt_gmgwD2o4saLaFHPMxL18higcxUsDE7BvNOkeattHb0H8XPAv1cXKWHywpP6H1IFbaq0ps1Wmgg2DmDPra_zJ8XAJfloOVMVXfDEkYy_QBdGbWhCepABwmCesH374XGddwGV9h/s1600/IMG_6003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFp_STwt_gmgwD2o4saLaFHPMxL18higcxUsDE7BvNOkeattHb0H8XPAv1cXKWHywpP6H1IFbaq0ps1Wmgg2DmDPra_zJ8XAJfloOVMVXfDEkYy_QBdGbWhCepABwmCesH374XGddwGV9h/s400/IMG_6003.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili made a lovely sunset scene for Marcos out of construction paper.</td></tr>
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Marcos wanted a birthday cake that was featured in the Friend for President Monson's birthday. I was relieved because earlier he had wanted a Thomas the Train cake. I've only been a mother of boys for about eight years, but I've already made enough Thomas the Train cakes to last a lifetime.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Sff8w4GXnh2tG82sIrETnY2d8VVMBFqi_tTTc3Dzs5jcqRXNgplSDFia5VZdHNe2P0D8uFhaOHKyc2QVRO_NULZrvBl0a8EIkFyKr3KkNzckbR_vy_jfZwsiEGjTT_KRcFt6MOeqaG20/s1600/IMG_6005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Sff8w4GXnh2tG82sIrETnY2d8VVMBFqi_tTTc3Dzs5jcqRXNgplSDFia5VZdHNe2P0D8uFhaOHKyc2QVRO_NULZrvBl0a8EIkFyKr3KkNzckbR_vy_jfZwsiEGjTT_KRcFt6MOeqaG20/s400/IMG_6005.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKJERjgIjg6EhdDvoW7wmEX72JWTJtlszNPtuQ0P-ILHawOPfkAyjeaSL1tcFVN8f___Nngz05yUnB3lb8-Byy4JIkYql_-j_m4yiNnsg7VYsuLNNIQW3VSWEtZgrpcQEdV-2xf_OWyNZ/s1600/IMG_6016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdKJERjgIjg6EhdDvoW7wmEX72JWTJtlszNPtuQ0P-ILHawOPfkAyjeaSL1tcFVN8f___Nngz05yUnB3lb8-Byy4JIkYql_-j_m4yiNnsg7VYsuLNNIQW3VSWEtZgrpcQEdV-2xf_OWyNZ/s400/IMG_6016.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the cake is colored layers. Pink is still our four-year-old boy's favorite color.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Forgive me for all the pictures. They are mostly here for the Davises and for Elder & Sister Dahl who weren't here for the blessing--and for fair. Next Sunday we will be in Nauvoo with Elder & Sister Dahl. We will not be blogging. I can't wait to see my Mama and Daddy!</div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-4068557676118619522012-08-26T16:32:00.001-07:002012-08-26T16:32:24.508-07:00Carolina's Pajama Birthday Party<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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August is a very busy birthday month for the Dahl extended family. Yesterday we got to go to Carolina's birthday party. She'll turn seven this week, and she had a pajama breakfast party. A good time was had by all. We ate delicious pancakes with fruit and whipped cream and peanut butter and Nutella (I love Nutella). I don't know if I was really invited to the party or not, but I showed up in my muumuu (Marianne says it should be spelled with two u's at a time), and they let me eat all the pancakes I could hold. Here are some photos of the happy event:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_Jyi3GgD_ddLq9ZTR5m0YLUjsV1C3XBd4p8p9kxGk6sW2E2m8ScCQ3XMUasvqwpcsAc8oUW-HFUUxUE1oFszRBvn-cAwZybxm9o9jZC_ArOubKWCALErQ1dqiTVvP2Z57w66vPXznQAem/s400/basket.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast Basket Upset--based on Fruit Basket Upset. Ruben and Desi are vying for a chair. (Please note the muumuu in the background.)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The birthday girl and her cake with Dana Neff and Liliana.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the cards and presents Carolina got.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cowboys don't wear bedclothes! Well, maybe some of them do. Hyrum looked great in his pajamas, roping.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isaiah roping, not in bedclothes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Party-goers jumping on the trampoline. Please note how well the trampoline has recovered since Marcos had his little experience there.</td></tr>
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Happy Birthday to all the dear ones (and the not-so-dear-ones) who celebrate August birthdays! I'm kidding. Of course, all of you are dear!</div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-57335715012817471522012-08-19T16:00:00.002-07:002012-08-19T19:09:10.706-07:00Mumu Sundays and Matching T-Shirts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Lately I've taken to wearing a special mumu on Sundays. (I hope that is the proper spelling of mumu. If it's not, I know I can count on some of my dear readership to help me out. Thank you.) It all started when Somebody spit up on my Sunday housecoat--I don't want to mention any names or embarrass anybody, but that Somebody who spit up on my Sunday housecoat (you know, the one with the mother-of-pearl snaps) looked an awful lot like this (notice the tell-tell signs of spit-up on his attire):</div>
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Anyway, with my Sunday housecoat no longer an option, I got out my mumu. My grandma gave it to me shortly after Lili's birth. I stayed with her in Salt Lake while Lili stayed in the hospital for 13 weeks. The mumu wasn't new with me, but it still looks great. Since Lili and I got out hair cut this week (while my sister-in-law, Jennifer, kindly kept the boys), I thought you'd like to see a picture of the two of us in our shortened hair and I thought the mumu deserved a little press:</div>
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"Mahona, you ugly!" comes to mind when I wear the mumu. Not that I feel ugly in it--quite the contrary. I think nothing makes me feel as lovely as wearing this roomy article of clothing--unless it's wearing my Sunday housecoat (you know, the one with mother-of-pearl snaps). I guess I feel more like Mahona at the end of the story when her confidence is high, thanks to Johnny Lingo paying eight cows for her.<br />
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Ammon was very impressed with his first exposure to the mumu. When I came out of my room in it, he said, "Wow, Mom! Shirt!" Shirt is his word for any article of clothing. Since he loves the mumu so much, I think I'll wear it when he's a teenager and brings his football team (he seems the most built for football of my boys) home for pizza. I hope he'll still say, "Wow, Mom!" <br />
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Now, to the matching t-shirts. I always thought it would be fun to have more than one girl and dress them in matching dresses. My two sisters and I had a lot of matching dresses--I know because as the youngest I wore those dresses year after year after year. The dresses grew with me. Since we couldn't do matching dresses, we decided to do matching striped t-shirts for all five of our little pumpkins:<br />
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They really love doing these head shots, as you can tell. Happy Sunday! May you rest from your labors in a mumu.</div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-50158023288451862262012-08-12T14:50:00.001-07:002012-08-12T14:50:40.378-07:00Emily's Visit<div style="text-align: center;">
This week this lovely lady graced our home--Emily Gardner. She and I met our freshman year at BYU. We lived on the same floor that year. We had several classes together and spent a lot of time studying together in the basement. We made up songs (some that we still remember!) to help us remember complicated definitions for our honors psychology class, stayed up way too late, and laughed a lot. We both studied abroad and went on missions and then roomed together at BYU. Now we can pick up like no time has passed. </div>
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Emily brought two of her nieces with her--Michaela and Lexie. They really hit it off with the cats and with Liliana:</div>
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It was terribly hot, of course, so we went swimming in Boulder Creek to cool off. The Johnsons came too and we had a great time.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liliana & Michaela</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lexie, Marcos, & Omar</td></tr>
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We sat outside in the evening, watched the sun set, & got Edgar to take a picture of us.</div>
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Here's to friendship, and to Emily, the star of this week's blog post!</div>
Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-45104652473990840292012-08-05T15:46:00.000-07:002012-08-05T15:46:25.158-07:00Ammon turned two!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Ammon turned two on Wednesday. We celebrated by not having school. (This week was our first week of school. Yes, I know it's still summer, but we are taking off later in September when we go to Nauvoo to visit Elder and Sister Dahl.) We also fought over Ammon's new toys all day. Ammon wasn't involved in most of the fights--it was everybody else. We went swimming in Boulder Creek and played Ring around the Rosies and the Farmer in the Dell (Ammon likes those).</div>
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This tractor set was from Elder and Sister Dahl:</div>
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Edgar bought the scooter for Ammon and I got him two board books (one in English and uno en espanol).</div>
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I made an impromptu cake. Edgar was working so I hadn't thought we would really celebrate much on the actual day, but the kids wanted a cake, and I always give my children what they want:</div>
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Our dear friends, Alma and Juan Solis and their daughters were visiting that day. Alma brought me a chicken she had recently butchered and helped me cook it, along with mole and Spanish rice, for dinner. They had cake with us.</div>
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The Johnsons gave Ammon a Mr. Potato Head toy. He loves the glasses:</div>
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We'll end with a happy Omar picture, because he is changing on a daily basis:</div>
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Many Happy Returns, Ammy Kabammy (as we here at home call him)!</div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-73144483076742000652012-07-29T16:09:00.000-07:002012-07-29T16:19:59.073-07:00"RED"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">It was Missoula Children's Theatre (I like spelling it that way--it makes me feel cultured. Just like spelling potty like a pea pod makes me feel vegetarian) week in Wells, Nevada. Our family was well-represented. Clarissa starred as Little Red Riding Hood, a teen who didn't want to be treated as a child anymore and preferred to go by "Red." Carolina was her baby sister, Baby Hood, who nearly stole the show with her singing and dancing. Deseret was Ranger Rooney, the forest ranger who cracked corny jokes. Liberty was one of the adorable three little pigs, always looking for new building material. Hyrum, Morgan, Isaiah, and Liliana were part of the naughty wolfgang who were up to no good. Ruben and Luke were cute little raccoons who tried to steal Red's picnic basket. The show was darling, the kids did great in it, and all rejoiced in the thrill of the performance. Here are a few pictures for the grandparents:<img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2vemtY2uBtU7z7XGNGmBG4cDtH2VtH1rN4b9qHpVUn23vbmfCdQJh6r-_2ZrESShjpHq4C5D_sgKzh6axXKnoKvU_DQ4d-QK01jbvfVop-H94dq0a1zLH5PKHfzS8FTr1beOd6Q9qBsLR/s400/IMG_5647.JPG" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Three Little Pigs (Liberty's the third from the right), Ranger Rooney (Deseret), & Little Red Riding Hood (Clarissa)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSinT3mHFXQFhIC2sI2HAiAL5Qo_Iyco3vkB2ZvKXrRfKJwC6eFUoa-cH5a49oULBsfESv-OIXkjLDZTnMLjKYiTwziGmP2o1cJ0RtUsYLC4CsdOy3I1stioixzEnJpg-5GbLO3aDYGSMW/s1600/IMG_5567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSinT3mHFXQFhIC2sI2HAiAL5Qo_Iyco3vkB2ZvKXrRfKJwC6eFUoa-cH5a49oULBsfESv-OIXkjLDZTnMLjKYiTwziGmP2o1cJ0RtUsYLC4CsdOy3I1stioixzEnJpg-5GbLO3aDYGSMW/s320/IMG_5567.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Red" and her girlfriend</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhun9Q_Fl2iA_x8ikrw8PAfPs3Jpex01whikDnmzFK3Ssi7lUGpZYqAybv3VDwAfmfMK_wayTWtb0BfZdp3ezCyKThD4iWY7biX4w_VZ1bW3weHWp_fWrAFYCoAgNLKKI7KyeV-2CEQ5i/s1600/IMG_5578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAhun9Q_Fl2iA_x8ikrw8PAfPs3Jpex01whikDnmzFK3Ssi7lUGpZYqAybv3VDwAfmfMK_wayTWtb0BfZdp3ezCyKThD4iWY7biX4w_VZ1bW3weHWp_fWrAFYCoAgNLKKI7KyeV-2CEQ5i/s400/IMG_5578.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranger Rooney singing about the beautiful morning</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincGj0APwuoHqobKHpGXap4GljNV8yfGzTX8l1twUOGv_0_988enV1VroW6nBVIbKyE_gervez7Yey7n7j9iiUy0CpOxSE9Bj_N2gaWKArDJ3sHe3_DRCTEPZeYDluk41lBFrkFKCVwDm5/s1600/IMG_5698.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEincGj0APwuoHqobKHpGXap4GljNV8yfGzTX8l1twUOGv_0_988enV1VroW6nBVIbKyE_gervez7Yey7n7j9iiUy0CpOxSE9Bj_N2gaWKArDJ3sHe3_DRCTEPZeYDluk41lBFrkFKCVwDm5/s400/IMG_5698.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That pig's got a cute smile!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_vygJ2Dv7povP7LwWGo-xT09tO2NA-YfMiIhELscNkbGq7zWQrB5n4ZETAD9FPeRSf7RbLeuGEG3AGNCOhe-ZmodtWXP0f54G9oUmVDgPmCmHVAA2bPL52XcuBOC7WEmwhxPhyD4d_Ck/s1600/IMG_5576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_vygJ2Dv7povP7LwWGo-xT09tO2NA-YfMiIhELscNkbGq7zWQrB5n4ZETAD9FPeRSf7RbLeuGEG3AGNCOhe-ZmodtWXP0f54G9oUmVDgPmCmHVAA2bPL52XcuBOC7WEmwhxPhyD4d_Ck/s400/IMG_5576.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carolina's way of hiding as Baby Hood</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKhc22cTBjZLaIEe66ObKC4OgtHMdHxlF76OYSC7Z-EaLoiZixrwODeQGQ0OyM01wJ2r_Z9Un_7hh9s69EdRnh_DdFCmYJqtX-Z0mogJ0A2RkXKO4D7rGq-ofpzGJRMqSsCIH2vgwbKHV/s1600/IMG_5559.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKhc22cTBjZLaIEe66ObKC4OgtHMdHxlF76OYSC7Z-EaLoiZixrwODeQGQ0OyM01wJ2r_Z9Un_7hh9s69EdRnh_DdFCmYJqtX-Z0mogJ0A2RkXKO4D7rGq-ofpzGJRMqSsCIH2vgwbKHV/s400/IMG_5559.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Hood singing "Stay on the Trail"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhem45UwOQZ3YCsiRtho41-P6dp_F4fVHuzYItaZGhptI7v7mDPJIcfndLnw803YW7Dm28Ji4A1r6XdkdAKraGvKjo-PgYOjkadAQqtshAFTOuxXqZ3UMe2uYPzUCiXFYZqs3dDUZyfdgp7/s1600/IMG_5550.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhem45UwOQZ3YCsiRtho41-P6dp_F4fVHuzYItaZGhptI7v7mDPJIcfndLnw803YW7Dm28Ji4A1r6XdkdAKraGvKjo-PgYOjkadAQqtshAFTOuxXqZ3UMe2uYPzUCiXFYZqs3dDUZyfdgp7/s400/IMG_5550.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ruben. Luke, & Kelsie as adorable raccoons</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZOMeGLqXwBfdgSrooAMsTJswB_rTtZpmYih1K2-yaeD5bVrkYXQ8o_TGfR8YWlS-YCrjVk7sU9DPdE7dF3jp8FSNKLJPvNdAMjqMwdcpepeMM3M1dLHPYTfq4hfP7KKY7s0ELnxgIgjyH/s1600/IMG_5621.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZOMeGLqXwBfdgSrooAMsTJswB_rTtZpmYih1K2-yaeD5bVrkYXQ8o_TGfR8YWlS-YCrjVk7sU9DPdE7dF3jp8FSNKLJPvNdAMjqMwdcpepeMM3M1dLHPYTfq4hfP7KKY7s0ELnxgIgjyH/s400/IMG_5621.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The raccoons' tails were my favorite part of their costume.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgwUKo3bAPfX_96NRF6100aSd-hLuGQ9CPikD07l9T0oTSmoDjfS0FicmEw0VVagvzbFfRA_g2pHh4BCGT84APHocRF2b_SVQzQzzjhbDAL-9U773af6XhyMbYgeW9er7kFQ4y5TpkH7g/s1600/IMG_5639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQgwUKo3bAPfX_96NRF6100aSd-hLuGQ9CPikD07l9T0oTSmoDjfS0FicmEw0VVagvzbFfRA_g2pHh4BCGT84APHocRF2b_SVQzQzzjhbDAL-9U773af6XhyMbYgeW9er7kFQ4y5TpkH7g/s400/IMG_5639.JPG" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isaiah being part of the Wolfgang</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVX45Di5dx0ZCj9ah0f22ilIuWf3gxsZgRRXAW45u6wMQDwC8l_kEYsx9kTmmbIEP1WynI8u_8EB6VateSW1lmV5aoXhyphenhyphenF-sbK5CtC2r_4BTa-e15yRhu7IKxLwMdq3l0o0qHpgtJsQF28/s1600/IMG_5607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVX45Di5dx0ZCj9ah0f22ilIuWf3gxsZgRRXAW45u6wMQDwC8l_kEYsx9kTmmbIEP1WynI8u_8EB6VateSW1lmV5aoXhyphenhyphenF-sbK5CtC2r_4BTa-e15yRhu7IKxLwMdq3l0o0qHpgtJsQF28/s400/IMG_5607.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lili as a wolf in sheep's clothing</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liliana</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ayNubR0rLCGeNVkVuSowPSNFfCI6H1ywec80-MXfgV-niu_T42Az4IvuL74KF5sU4ApD_OOQkNuTKDZbhXkNj8U3KYOeUUVPamuzDEkbBytChHgLXQg8yWdTU-f2uXqm6cNxvqVOl1eV/s1600/IMG_5634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ayNubR0rLCGeNVkVuSowPSNFfCI6H1ywec80-MXfgV-niu_T42Az4IvuL74KF5sU4ApD_OOQkNuTKDZbhXkNj8U3KYOeUUVPamuzDEkbBytChHgLXQg8yWdTU-f2uXqm6cNxvqVOl1eV/s400/IMG_5634.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hyrum hiding.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAt2kH7iZjL8Vlj3v2HToiyDtvs2zZzy-OwU73ayZJ5NfuAEeUZ3Hy_USpZMezuPrO5iEq3KE2iIwrY_iP3vIgCgGP6zvCvH0BV7-4dLLD2vqmTS8CoJHOUHmQkgYPxaQdyYpbqQV-Mek-/s400/IMG_5640.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="266" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morgan looking mischievous.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;">And now, lest my youngest three feel left out, here are some pictures of some acting they've been doing:<br />
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<img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtPAzOh5jPmUwemut0C5SaZd4xMSfuVKV-9kyZZiCKiidejFQW93W2G8DTsJgoHQDKgVwMeo5e2JZEVJ_yt7Wl8Nn2lKZ2eVlF_eZcUZSMD0IXY2C27gD2ClIUcH4McjXQpL8bchHqfOhy/s400/IMG_5705.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="266" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcos, acting like a train driver.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJaVamGcpogzwV0cVggkIO-3FalZfQsyP9Aj7tUkONCfqmk62EgHqpUdpmX3uuQjZvLPm2d8hITeim4tGJxscrBVJWr4JrCRaSISQA0Dr-irAMjO8TkLxxgcmdIcXM-iHqtI_XGm5Ng-C/s1600/IMG_5701.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJJaVamGcpogzwV0cVggkIO-3FalZfQsyP9Aj7tUkONCfqmk62EgHqpUdpmX3uuQjZvLPm2d8hITeim4tGJxscrBVJWr4JrCRaSISQA0Dr-irAMjO8TkLxxgcmdIcXM-iHqtI_XGm5Ng-C/s400/IMG_5701.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Omar, acting like he can't smile. He is his father's son. He is generous with his smiles, but hides them when the camera comes out. I have yet to capture his sweet smile to my satisfaction in a picture.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5QxjXXKzhktqryVjsfIllV_Eu_xHvtoOQLpuWIVVLu6OlFdwOlDSwNMTPXc6obymElGWojdlEC-6L_9f2DQZn7pZs3v11O1nxA-azZyVAM9CXsTnGijhYryQIXvrPPu56yG1xBt8G77b/s1600/IMG_5700.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5QxjXXKzhktqryVjsfIllV_Eu_xHvtoOQLpuWIVVLu6OlFdwOlDSwNMTPXc6obymElGWojdlEC-6L_9f2DQZn7pZs3v11O1nxA-azZyVAM9CXsTnGijhYryQIXvrPPu56yG1xBt8G77b/s400/IMG_5700.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And finally, little Ammon, acting like he's sorry he spilled three cups of water for the 76th time today--acting also like he cleans up after himself. With that smile, he's rather convincing.</td></tr>
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<br />Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-81230966417550775902012-07-22T15:31:00.000-07:002012-07-22T15:31:18.700-07:00A Correction, Glasses, Smiles, and A 5K<br />
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It turns out Marianne <i>does</i> read my blog and she alerted me to a misspelling. She said I spell poddy-training wrong and that it should be potty-training. Now, I see that. Poddy-training is underscored with a red, squiggly line and potty-training is not. "Just think of it like a pot--you know, a chamber pot," is how Marianne put it. That's helpful. We do have Edgar's ipod and we had some pea pods awhile ago, but I don't associate either one with Marcos learning to use the toilet. You never know though. He has been known to think outside the box (or the pot, if you will), when he needs to go.</div>
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<img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_yCDoURtWkM3CJ4WpN35D4dE7SseiVSUf5CwuUF87jt44Vp-0CirNghgN2eanConNRcvOjic_7XsO2bL2iEjEDwCQq35CPzSf4rjKWj9iPaFPjMGTUnxteE9H71UbpESACclCJcuBBCrP/s400/IMG_5545.JPG" width="400" /></div>
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We had eye appointments this week. As we waited for the doctor, Lili expressed how much she would love to have glasses. I hadn't noticed that she needed them. She hasn't been running into things or anything, but it so happens that she does need them. She now has them, but they hurt her nose so she doesn't wear them. She did try them on for this picture. We need to have them adjusted for her cute little face. Edgar picked them up and she was not with him.<br />
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Omar is smiling all the time--especially at night when I am up with him. He knows I need a little encouragement at that time. He has slept exceptionally well this week: six to seven hours at a stretch. That, coupled with his smiles, thrills me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_PjdrYcVaqRpmRWOUjavkxQNs1R4kdCOmj8ertIcV4oInXhGCYijNeBTRSZtmm72m2C0A2v6YytaoGiltPgBzEMrcu6xYZyR6Oko3xrIUdzEgbz-Yfn3KFRR-SJOn8NJRI-fkAFAtrcn/s1600/IMG_5542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy_PjdrYcVaqRpmRWOUjavkxQNs1R4kdCOmj8ertIcV4oInXhGCYijNeBTRSZtmm72m2C0A2v6YytaoGiltPgBzEMrcu6xYZyR6Oko3xrIUdzEgbz-Yfn3KFRR-SJOn8NJRI-fkAFAtrcn/s320/IMG_5542.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39gZwASNSu-5thnOJjP1MKVES2sWRIXms1lniF6_cedBUeADA8hxZxM7Qx0ir-v_OiIs2_DDJ-_VhwQG_eFVqBJTYRR642fN_JSmzpiIO_wCmk5bV15BgUXtkz8fdcct_BMcCBTvFk4F3/s1600/IMG_5541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh39gZwASNSu-5thnOJjP1MKVES2sWRIXms1lniF6_cedBUeADA8hxZxM7Qx0ir-v_OiIs2_DDJ-_VhwQG_eFVqBJTYRR642fN_JSmzpiIO_wCmk5bV15BgUXtkz8fdcct_BMcCBTvFk4F3/s320/IMG_5541.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Liliana was invited by the Johnsons (so glad they're back!) to be in a 5K yesterday. She loved it and won for her the girls in her age group. She decided running is her thing. (Marianne always knew it was--she has long said that Lili was destined to be a runner. Besides spelling, Marianne is good at a myriad of things.) Liliana said a lot of people got these blue ribbons, but we thought it was special enough to photograph. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjHr_Gb3LDGuUkjRQ0vu8tJ3swklkQyOdwgN3avcmSfHPohyro_8x425YZsta5OtRIMPmBI4Idgx2GPWcXPt6zzC-wnJrKqB9dfmJ99L4noYWz-zYZl3zwvVt1lqiQnmoKlUQx9s914Gm/s1600/IMG_5540.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMjHr_Gb3LDGuUkjRQ0vu8tJ3swklkQyOdwgN3avcmSfHPohyro_8x425YZsta5OtRIMPmBI4Idgx2GPWcXPt6zzC-wnJrKqB9dfmJ99L4noYWz-zYZl3zwvVt1lqiQnmoKlUQx9s914Gm/s320/IMG_5540.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
And I must leave. Edgar took all the children to our nephew's birthday celebration and I told him I would be there soon.Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-66987328236269167512012-07-07T22:12:00.001-07:002012-07-07T22:12:50.327-07:00Beating the Heat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_LUwpYMkEw6PM1xpsRwPIDVokxK_2AgisJDllAzGiukAI_1FPBg9UaY21O1sh3q1KEHlnWqRdMotAw-b7P1s71YdRJ2wKzcMJvUFddYANE0KiRbA-8BwH454AcoXlOymiusACjsuM42la/s400/IMG_5477.JPG" width="400" /></div>
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Nothing says summer around here like swimming in Boulder Creek. Edgar stayed home with the two youngest boys and I took the older three and three cousins for a lovely, cooling-off time. I became a spouting whale, as I am prone to do. Since the Johnsons weren't there, I took the liberty of spouting off all over the place. The Johnsons don't like my spouting. </div>
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To celebrate the 4th of July, Ruben made this American flag out of a piece of paper, a stick, and some tape. He is dressed as a soldier, if you can't tell. That hole in his mouth is where he lost a tooth this week. </div>
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Ammon is lucky and he knows it (as you can tell from this picture). Every time Marcos gets a treat for doing a good job with poddy training, Ammon also gets a treat. He had just enjoyed smearing the treat all over his face when I took this picture. He makes at least 84 messes every day.</div>
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Isn't Omar looking particularly wise and intelligent these days? He is changing so much all the time.</div>
<br />Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-9709374082172771172012-07-01T17:22:00.000-07:002012-07-01T17:22:32.839-07:00A Mini Reunion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Edgar's first day back at work is always a little sad for me. The Johnsons have been gone and I've been missing them--especially my sister Marianne and our several-times-a-day chats. On Friday I went to my parents' house to borrow some things (don't worry, Big Guy, I'll take good care of them and you won't even miss them). As I walked around their place and watered the greenhouse (We had our first cucumber!), it felt like my parents have already been gone FOREVER. It's only been about four months, so we have fourteen to go. I was a bit melancholy, but yesterday I got a little treat to make up for it. This lady, my dear Thelma, my sister from faraway Washington, came to my house:</div>
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She held my baby and gave my toddler fruit snacks. She told me my kids are cute and folded all of my socks (even the ones from the stray sock drawer that had been hanging over my head for months). I should have taken a picture of the little mountain of socks she folded. It was impressive. </div>
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Her dear daughter, Emma, made Lili's day by loving cats. The two spent hours outside laughing and talking about cats. Lili was in heaven. Emma was an angel. Besides the time she spent with Liliana, Emma also was the official Crystal Light maker of the day. We enjoyed some fine beverages thanks to Emma. </div>
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Meanwhile, Mark, who is just as imaginative and into playing the part as my boys, made my boys so happy. They played Army and pirate and who-knows-what-else. Mark is the handsome redhead, by the way. Braeden also played with my boys--marching around with them and lending an air of sophistication to their imaginings. </div>
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Later my little brother Enoch (I like calling him that since he's anything but--6' 8") came with his children Isaiah (not pictured) and Savannah. It was Savannah Eve (the night before her fourth birthday) and we sang Happy Birthday to her in her lovely pink cowgirl hat. The tall (taller than I!), good-looking teen in the back is my oldest nephew Braeden. Marcos was happy to jump into the picture next to his beloved Savannah.</div>
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Speaking of Marcos, we have good news and bad news about his poddy-training progress. The good news is, he has been doing great and wearing underwear a lot and not having (many) accidents. </div>
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The bad news is, yesterday he had an accident on our neighbor's property. The kids wanted to go play outside at the Johnsons' home. Since the Johnsons are gone, we thought it was a great idea. When Marcos came home, I asked if he needed to go to the bathroom. He cheerfully told me he had gone "yucky" (our name for number 2) on the Johnsons' "jump-o-line" (his name for trampoline). "What?!" I asked, hoping I'd heard wrong. "Yep. I went yucky on their jump-o-line, and when they come back, they're going to look at their jump-o-line and say 'What?! Somebody went yucky on our jump-o-line!'"</div>
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We look forward to the Johnsons' return and their surprise at their altered jump-o-line. </div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-60132953920741257182012-06-24T18:05:00.001-07:002012-06-24T18:05:48.074-07:00A Week of Firsts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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FIRST SMILE </div>
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I think Omar smiled at me in the middle of the night Thursday. It was a fleeting, sleepy smile, and we couldn't recreate it for the camera, but I really think he smiled. I might have been a little sleep-deprived and delusional, but I will maintain it was a smile. When he smiles for the camera, you'll be the first to know. He is getting bigger and seems more alert and aware.</div>
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FIRST TV</div>
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Though we've always had a TV, we only ever watched DVDs and videos--we never had channels. This week that all changed. Now we have a satellite dish. I fought this as long as I could. I felt we'd be giving up our family time and our ability to create our own entertainment if we had something to watch on TV. My biggest fear is Edgar's use of TV. We watch TV in motels rooms when we travel and I <i>hate</i> watching TV with Edgar. He constantly hops channels and loves to be the one with the control. We are practicing what I think of as intentional viewing. Every day I let one child pick a PBS show that everyone can watch the next day. Then we record it (I love the DVR thing) and the next day we watch it. We can also watch "Little House on the Prairie" every day. So far it's been great. I've also set up our DVR to record every BYU Devotional and General Conference address. I watch them while I fold laundry and clean. I love that. Thus far Edgar has been working every day since we got our satellite, so we haven't had any conflict about his bad viewing habits yet. I explained to him our practice of intentional viewing and that it's the exact opposite of channel hopping. He told me he'll need to explore his options before he knows what he intends to watch. </div>
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FIRST TIME GOING TO CHURCH WITH ALL FIVE CHILDREN ALONE</div>
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Edgar had to work today. I took all five kids to church alone for the first time. It was the first time I had to buckle Marcos into the backseat. That is a difficult task--one Edgar had handled so far. Luckily, Omar slept through my Sunday School lesson. A few of my students did too, but at least there was no snoring. During Sacrament Meeting, Susy took Omar for me. After church I got busy visiting with everyone and forgot about our newborn. Then I saw my empty baby carrier. About that same time, Liliana came to tell me that Roberto, Susy's husband, was in the gym, holding Omar. I felt so irresponsible! Susy and Roberto always go home right after Sacrament Meeting--unless they have foolishly offered to help a struggling mother like me. We picked up two new cats for Lili on our way home and when we were about a mile or so from home we had a flat tire. Omar and Ammon were asleep and it was so hot. There was no way we could walk home. There was also no way I wanted to try to change the tire. I tried calling Marianne's cell phone and also the cell phones of everyone in her family. Lili suggested we pray. Right after we did, Marianne called. She wasn't far behind me and she picked us up, cats and all. There were a lot of us to fit in her car, but they kindly made room for us. Edgar will change the tire when he gets home. </div>
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FIRST TIME RUBEN WORE A BOW TIE TO CHURCH</div>
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He had never done that before, and as you can see, he was pretty tickled about it. He thought he looked like a waiter. I ordered a water on the rocks and told him he looked very handsome.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtSLGfCbvdspmsrZcSKfUFXpgVQbf8hjuYVbWK4zV23RvwEBTk6R6xC82pdjzVfeftwvnVdkniDKaS63L96GaaCb_4xlTFWatN8epzE1YmXYpzkyZFSrZh4K6-XLPyb4klTHnAM8YAzm1/s1600/IMG_5443.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtSLGfCbvdspmsrZcSKfUFXpgVQbf8hjuYVbWK4zV23RvwEBTk6R6xC82pdjzVfeftwvnVdkniDKaS63L96GaaCb_4xlTFWatN8epzE1YmXYpzkyZFSrZh4K6-XLPyb4klTHnAM8YAzm1/s400/IMG_5443.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Marcos would like to visit Grandma and Grandpa Dahl so he can eat an ice cream sandwich. I told him they're still in Nauvoo. I have told him we will leave two days after his birthday to visit them so now he wants to have a birthday party at Grandma and Grandpa's house in Nauvoo, complete with ice cream sandwiches. Will you take care of that request for us, Grandma and Grandpa? We'll send you the guest list. It will be Marcos's first birthday party and we'd like it to be very special.</div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-62477765540909291182012-06-17T17:14:00.000-07:002012-06-17T17:14:06.940-07:00Ready for Church<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You may remember these handsome shirts from Easter. The Easter Bunny left them for the boys, but was unable to find one for the then-unborn baby. Last week, my friend, Susy, gave us this cute outfit for Omarcito and it includes this shirt that fits in perfectly with the other boys' shirts.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WOns6yFDKSXavh0krxQKq8we8wsoIPWz5CJzCS9WM6pn5aMR-3NHoO8qSSpbLkSikHd7hlbVLfaBEUn1e1maLTELNsekaBBB0xWZL-Lh99OzgSD8LImqpWqOpCJHSntWNZlyj6WwvYdE/s1600/IMG_5440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WOns6yFDKSXavh0krxQKq8we8wsoIPWz5CJzCS9WM6pn5aMR-3NHoO8qSSpbLkSikHd7hlbVLfaBEUn1e1maLTELNsekaBBB0xWZL-Lh99OzgSD8LImqpWqOpCJHSntWNZlyj6WwvYdE/s400/IMG_5440.JPG" width="266" /></a></div>
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Speaking of Omar, he turned one month old on Friday. He weighs a little over 9 pounds now and is still a delight to us all. He enjoyed wearing his new tie which is about as long as he is. A fulltime mission is definitely in his future. He really knows how to sport a tie.</div>
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I really wanted Edgar to be in a picture with the children. He really didn't want to be. It might have something to do with the crooked haircut he got yesterday. More likely, it has to do with how he always hates posing for pictures. Since today we honor him, I accepted his refusal and did not insist that he be photographed. Happy Father's Day!</div>
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<br /></div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-84162195928649751902012-06-10T17:55:00.003-07:002012-06-10T17:57:50.679-07:00The Five Lights of our Lives<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Five little Cobian heads. Ammon's head wasn't sure it wanted to be there, but he stayed long enough for the photo. Poor boy. With each new baby, the next-to-youngest has to grow up a little more. The other day Ammon wanted to join his older siblings outside, but he wasn't dressed yet. I was feeding Omar (something we do an awful lot) and Edgar was at work. Ammon took matters into his own hands. Part of a pair of his pants was sticking out of his pants drawer. He grabbed it and started jerking. The entire dresser fell down--on Ammon's legs. Marcos came and tried to urgently tell me Ammon needed me. Marcos is always rather urgent and I told him I'd be there "in a minute." I felt bad that poor Ammon had been pinned. I was able to move the top of the dresser up long enough for the little fellow to pull his legs out. I got him dressed and he was fine. He went out to play.</div>
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A little later I went in to check Ruben's progress with cleaning his room. He's such a nut. I asked him why he was wearing the hard hat. In all seriousness he said, "I don't want anything to fall on <em>me</em>!" Better safe than sorry, Ru. Around here, we always clean sporting hard hats.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-3S3crQRJb2xT6tdN6NuCjKw7IXK_xREVCBemKxlqMk2_lhAdxntfORicf9sLtrDSusb6o0tpbp70VqMOhtwqj74qOK61YKO3gSkMLKfaBGJA0c5FoTmrWGtNO8-h0-dYzF9RDsVmAQe/s1600/IMG_5397.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-3S3crQRJb2xT6tdN6NuCjKw7IXK_xREVCBemKxlqMk2_lhAdxntfORicf9sLtrDSusb6o0tpbp70VqMOhtwqj74qOK61YKO3gSkMLKfaBGJA0c5FoTmrWGtNO8-h0-dYzF9RDsVmAQe/s400/IMG_5397.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-56978659780692453262012-06-03T19:22:00.001-07:002012-06-03T19:22:02.994-07:00Summertime<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Look at this boy--growing up way too fast. He had company come this week (two sets of Cobian aunts & uncles) so I dressed him in this cute little duck outfit. It says "I'm a lucky ducky on it." I wish it came in Edgar's size. He would love to wear something like that--especially to match the baby. I think yellow is a good color for Omar.</div>
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Also this week we went to Utah for my post partum visit. It was a very long day--we left at 5:40 am and got home at 10:30 pm. We took the kids to This Is the Place Park. The train was not working (poor Ruben), but we liked the flowers.</div>
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The kids also got to pan for gold.</div>
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It has been so hot (I'm so grateful to not be pregnant in the heat!) and the kids love running through the sprinklers (often the younger two do this without bothering to change clothes which makes for a lot of laundry).</div>
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Happy Summer!</div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4613308926818170335.post-14012331998012826732012-05-27T15:25:00.000-07:002012-05-27T15:28:42.170-07:00Everybody's Growing Up Too Fast!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
When you're baby isn't even two weeks old yet, it's a little crazy to think he's growing up too fast, but he is. He's outgrown some clothes already and in my addled, emotional state, I want time to freeze. It's not just Omar who's growing up. Ammon has grown up a ton in the week since he got replaced as the baby. He's a cool kid now rather than a baby.</div>
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He's very helpful. He happily takes dirty clothes and dirty diapers and puts them in their place. I'm really glad I noticed these three smelly diapers and Ammon's dirty pajamas in the dryer before I piled my newly-washed laundry inside.</div>
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Ammon's also playing more and more with the big boys. They all still love cars which makes for some enjoyable sound effects.</div>
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Everybody still loves holding Omar. Liliana is a huge help. I've been pumping a bottle every day for Omarcito and Lili fed it to him one night. It's nice to know that's a possibility. Lili went off with the Johnsons and the Myers three different times this week. She loved it. I missed her. I'm so spoiled as a homeschooling mom. I'm glad I usually have my girl with me.</div>
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This week Ruben was the BYU Police. </div>
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His badge and cap are his uniform. </div>
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Marcos loves singing "Hush Little Baby" to Omar. I recorded it and tried to upload it here, but after two failed attempts, I quit. I think our internet is not up to speed.</div>
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Omar's umbilical cord stump fell off today. Of course I'm saving it. Do you have to ask? </div>Olivia Cobianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07546861660426638419noreply@blogger.com2