<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580</id><updated>2011-10-06T08:38:58.788-07:00</updated><category term='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQhttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0jpfoXaKI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zVzBzMkP2_g/s400/DSC02939.JPG0jpLvH3GI/AAAAAAAAAFE/VuNxL-PdpnI/s1600/DSC02932.JPG'/><category term='Party Time'/><category term='Pregnancy'/><category term='weight losshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOK6KC9Os9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Hxp-I-jfEMM/s1600/DSC02766.JPG'/><category term='Motivation'/><category term='weight journal'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='Baby Rulon'/><title type='text'>The Butterfield's</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-1425100013298144884</id><published>2011-01-06T20:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T20:47:29.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MY NEW MOTIVATION</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TSaZAPREiiI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2arxB52mSGc/s1600/gym.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 204px; height: 131px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TSaZAPREiiI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2arxB52mSGc/s400/gym.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559299019412638242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;div style="display: inline !important; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;So I made a rash decision today.  I need a distraction, and I need a goal.  Soooo....  I decided to pay $49 to join the Body Transformation Challenge at Golds Gym!  Oh boy!  The first place prize = $75,000, and I REALLY want to win.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;So here's my starting stats.  I'm going to log my daily progress (and pain) and for the next 90 days I'm going to kick my tooshie until there aint much tooshie left to kick :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;Current Measurements:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Waste = 31"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Thigh = 22"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Gut = 37 1/2"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Arm = 12"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Neck = 12 1/2"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Chest = 35"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   &gt;Hip = 39"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;STARTING WEIGHT: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;151 lbs&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Goal Weight: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;132 lbs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Ok - so now I'm freaking out a little.  I'm starting to have some doubts about this.  I'm pretty much worn out from just "life" right now, and Justin starts a new job on February 1 that will require him to be away from home a lot more, so a lot of this is going to be on my own.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;When I signed up I felt pumped - but now (after 2 workouts today) I'm feeling exhausted.  But I'm going to do this, I want to do this, I have to do this.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;So here's my log today:  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;January 6, 2011&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Gym&lt;/span&gt; - 1 hour Power Pump class, 10 minute walk treadmill, 15 minutes stationary bike, 25 minutes stair climber.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Calories burned:&lt;/span&gt; 950 calories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Eating:&lt;/span&gt; 2080 calories (not a usual day - feeling a little stressed today)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;And so it begins - Day #1....  Wish me Luck!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TSaaXe4ts3I/AAAAAAAAAGo/F0-xnySBlBE/s400/gym%2B2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-1425100013298144884?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/1425100013298144884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=1425100013298144884' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/1425100013298144884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/1425100013298144884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-new-motivation.html' title='MY NEW MOTIVATION'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TSaZAPREiiI/AAAAAAAAAGg/2arxB52mSGc/s72-c/gym.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-2566257767947589653</id><published>2010-12-18T13:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T14:08:53.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PARTY TIME! (The craziness begins)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;This time of year is just fun (and hectic).&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Mira had her dance recital. We started the tradition of going to Temple Square. And don't forget the Christmas parties.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;But before I get too many pictures to post - I thought I'd put on here what we have so far.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" align="center" style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;FAMILY FUN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;We had our annual family Christmas party last night. Now this is my side of the family - but not with the WHOLE family - just the "Oyler" side and Jeff. If that doesn't make sense to you than don't worry about it, even I get confused sometimes :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;I was in charge of the usual... rolls. Justin was sure I would need to make 3 batches because my fam sure knows how to down them rolls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;I love baking for people. There's something fun about it. Yah - it's time consuming and messy and its not like I have a ton of free time right now - but I find it kind of therapeutic. Especially when people enjoy what I make.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;So we did the cousin gift exchange with all the kiddio's and Grandma and Grandpa did their gift giving extravaganza (they just spoil the grand kids - it's so awesome!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;But before all that we did the baby Jesus story. I don't know how in the world Justin and I got picked to be Joseph and Mary - but alas we had the baby Jesus (aka: Xaylor) - so I guess that makes sense. I put on my costume and asked my Brother in Law - "Hey - do I look like a virgin?" - yahhh he didn't think that was very funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wBlfpb4I/AAAAAAAAAGU/SrDhuPda-YY/s400/DSC03024.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552146719420542850" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wBXGTSDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/RBAYMa4aUkk/s1600/DSC03023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wBXGTSDI/AAAAAAAAAGM/RBAYMa4aUkk/s400/DSC03023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552146715556137010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wBEPpyKI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eYryFIMLNvs/s1600/DSC03013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wBEPpyKI/AAAAAAAAAGE/eYryFIMLNvs/s400/DSC03013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552146710495086754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wA9cx0PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8DEWejiiINM/s1600/DSC03003.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wA9cx0PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8DEWejiiINM/s1600/DSC03003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wA9cx0PI/AAAAAAAAAF8/8DEWejiiINM/s400/DSC03003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552146708671090930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;But at the end of the story - my Dad, my sweet sweet wonderful Dad, comes crawling in with, heck I don't even know what you'd call it - but it was a mismatched bunch of socks and cloth on his head that made him look like a donkey. It was hilarious! And than he came and rolled over and passed out. I was a little offended being Mary and all :-) How dare my donkey be exhausted from carrying me ~.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;But I think what really affected me the most about that was after when my dad was trying to get off the floor. His left leg doesn't work very well and he was trying to get himself to stand up. I tried to help him but he said that he needed something hard to push against. The ottoman didn't work so than he went to the chair and pushed up on it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;How amazing it that! Even with all the pain he's in and how hard it is for him to get up - that he would crawl on the ground and be a donkey for the kids and for fun. GOSH I love that man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;Overall a great family party!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;color:black"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-2566257767947589653?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/2566257767947589653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=2566257767947589653' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/2566257767947589653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/2566257767947589653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2010/12/party-time-craziness-begins.html' title='PARTY TIME! (The craziness begins)'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0wBlfpb4I/AAAAAAAAAGU/SrDhuPda-YY/s72-c/DSC03024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-1642086252177854624</id><published>2010-12-18T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-18T13:58:47.472-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQhttp://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0jpfoXaKI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zVzBzMkP2_g/s400/DSC02939.JPG0jpLvH3GI/AAAAAAAAAFE/VuNxL-PdpnI/s1600/DSC02932.JPG'/><title type='text'>Winter Family Fun</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0mMljt_SI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jpZvJtgpTQc/s1600/DSC02992.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0jp18oOaI/AAAAAAAAAFU/HTCpXjRwD-Y/s400/DSC02967.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552133117380671906" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0jpfoXaKI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zVzBzMkP2_g/s400/DSC02939.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552133111390103714" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0jpLvH3GI/AAAAAAAAAFE/VuNxL-PdpnI/s400/DSC02932.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5552133106049735778" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;&lt;b&gt;SANTA BABY (At least she's still my baby)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mira was seriously the cutest little Santa I've ever seen.  She wanted to wear her hair down because she said it was prettier.  I REALLY wanted to pull it up into a ballerina bun - but Mira told me "Mom, none of the other girls wear their hair like that, so I don't think it's good."  Already a conformist - dangit! :-)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Now last years dance concert (with a difference teacher) was a complete nightmare.  It was downtown, parking was awful, and the concert was 2 1/2 hours long - NOT KIDDING!  And Mira's dance was just crazy.  All of the girls her age were dressed up like donkeys and they got on their hands and knees and acted like donkeys.  It was weird to say the least.  I can't believe I paid all that money so my little girl could be an Ass.  Granted most the time she's a pain in mine - but when she dances I prefer to see a princess or something precious - after all she is my only girl and this may be my only chance for these cheesy girly things.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;But this time was awesome!  We got there with our Posee' and hunckered down for the long haul.  Mira was the first to dance.  She was so cute!  And than - to my surprise - she was done.  We got to get her and go home.  45 minutes!!  45 minutes was all that took - it was a Christmas miracle :-)  Now that's the way to do a dance concert.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;TEMPLE SQUARE LIGHTS (and brake lights)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0mMljt_SI/AAAAAAAAAF0/jpZvJtgpTQc/s400/DSC02992.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So Justin says to me last Monday "We should go to Temple Square tonight!"  After the shock wore off I'm like "Are you crazy?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O.k. - so going anywhere right now is like a huge production.  There's always one kid crying, screaming, or whining (and sometimes more than one).  A poopy diaper that may result in an outfit change, a hungry baby that needs "Mom" and all that entails, extra blankets, coats, shoes, finding potty for Boyd, man I could go on and on about how fun going out in public is with the whole fam - but I'll spare you all the dirty details.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So needless to say I had a pissy attitude about the whole thing.  I had just got my 3rd cold in 2 1/2 months, Xay gave me the usual 4 hours of sleep the night before, and I was Mrs. grumpy pants.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;BUT - like all mothers do, at least the crazy ones, we packed the kids up and headed downtown.  I think my exact words to Justin were "This is gonna suck!"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Traffic was awful and Justin wanted me to drive around the block looking for a front space.  Oh how I love his optimism sometimes!  I, of course, ignored this suggestion and headed to the guaranteed space at the JSMB - which he later admitted was a good idea :-)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;One double wide, and one single stroller later - we trudge to the lights.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O.k. - I admit I was having a bad attitude.  Too many times of "trying" to do fun things with the kids that just end up with one exhausted mom had soured me a little.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0mLhKgfHI/AAAAAAAAAFc/V9eeJ3L769k/s400/DSC02973.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0mMM5iJHI/AAAAAAAAAFs/681aSRwHtj8/s400/DSC02988.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So first we go up to the top floor and see the view of the temple.  It really is quite an amazing temple.  Plus I always love how it smells like rolls baking in the JSMB - it's just a homey feeling.  I asked the kids if they wanted to go and see the Jesus statue - and Mira says "nah" - and than I say "It's in the space room!" and both her and Boyd are like Alright - let's go!  Ah the space room - thank you for being so cool.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;So we go and see the Christus (I have no idea how to spell that) - and listen to the presentation and than watch the baby Jesus movie and go get hot chocolate.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;O.k. - so I have to admit it didn't suck.  It was actually really nice.  There's a definite spirit at temple square this time of year that's just calming and sweet.  I actually felt rejuvenated as opposed to the usual drainage.  I'm so glad we went.  In fact Mira's been asking every day since if we can go back again.  She calls it the "Jesus place". :-)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0mL32x3_I/AAAAAAAAAFk/6_S7aazX-ZY/s400/DSC02990.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-1642086252177854624?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/1642086252177854624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=1642086252177854624' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/1642086252177854624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/1642086252177854624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2010/12/winter-family-fun.html' title='Winter Family Fun'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TQ0jp18oOaI/AAAAAAAAAFU/HTCpXjRwD-Y/s72-c/DSC02967.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-6491580026116311</id><published>2010-12-06T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T11:36:43.422-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight journal'/><title type='text'>My Motivation Monster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TP07BFFcn_I/AAAAAAAAAE8/1JVqvV9B7nw/s1600/monster.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 257px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TP07BFFcn_I/AAAAAAAAAE8/1JVqvV9B7nw/s400/monster.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547655205721251826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;OK - so my motivation monster is HUNGRY!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Or - Old Man Winter is freezing the motivation out of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Or - Santa Clause sat on my motivation and he squished it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whatever you want to call it - it's a struggle getting my booty moving right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep - I still go to the gym almost everyday and when I'm there I kill myself.  I'm still doing awesome on my healthy eating.  But - I stare at the dessert tray a little longer than usual - in fact I take a 10 calorie sniff every once and awhile.  In fact - the other day my sniff turned into a 200 calorie bite - ouch - that one hurt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate admitting that I ate those couple bites.  Why???  I should be allowed a goodie now and than, right?  I think it must be a control issue, or maybe a "must meet my goal" thing.  I get so disappointed at myself when I slip up.  Of course in the last 9 weeks - I've had 3 slip ups and I beat myself about them.  I obviously need to get over it and move on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So how to stay motivated?  Well.....  I look better, I feel better.  Getting out of the house for a 90 minute "Mommy only" time definitely helps.  I've noticed after I get home from the gym that I'm a better Mom, a better wife, and just overall happier.  So those things help.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My Dead Leg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;OK - so going to the gym feels like dragging a dead leg behind me.  It just drags and drags.  Even when I'm warming up on the bike - my legs do not work.  They just hurt.  Those first 10 minutes are just plain awful.  It's like waking up a sleeping bear.  He growls and rolls over, sometimes he rolls on me and I can barely breath - but finally...  after 10 minutes of pushing and prodding, he awakes!  That's when working out can almost become fun (except when I'm doing plank, lunges and squats) those are always a "bear" - pun intended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; "&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;#1 - The $8.00 Motivator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "&gt;See you have&lt;/span&gt; to schedule an appointment at the gym and if I don't show up they charge me $8.00 (4 kids x $2.00 each).  That's usually a good kick to get the kids in the car and get going.  Because the choice between 500-700 less calories in my bod - or $8.00 out of my bank account, the calories usually always wins.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;#2 - The FEELS GOOD Motivator&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I just love that feeling right in the middle of my workout - when I get my 2nd wind and I start thinking about doing a marathon - or maybe even a triathlon.  You feel like you can do anything and go anywhere.  It's such a freeing feeling.  Now that is a motivation too!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The reality...  I get home from "feeling good" - like I can conquer the world and I walk in the door and all of a sudden there's this weight put on.  There's cleaning to be done, kids to be fed, bedtime routines to be completed, babies to be held and bounced.  It's a go, go, go bucket of to-do's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I admit this, ashamedly, but sometimes I don't even shower after a workout.  I know grouse, huh?  But I'm seriously so exhausted that I'd rather sit on my patootie and do nothing and just pat myself on the back and reward myself with a little "me" time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;#3 - The www.loseit.com Motivator&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So a friend of mine (Renae) "invited" me to join a website called loseit.com.  It's free (which I like) and it's AWESOME!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;You plug in what you eat for every meal and snack each day.  You tell it how much weight you want to lose and it calculates how many calories you can consume a day and still loose that weight.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;It has seriously kept me from "slipping up" several times.  Because I know I'll have to put in the calories and it might go over my allowed amount - which is a big No No!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I thought having to take the time to put my food in would be time consuming and cumbersome - but SO NOT!  It's actually kind of fun.  You also get to see what nutrients you are consuming and making sure that you get enough Protein and Carbs (and the all important "poopy" Fiber).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;This has been a great motivator for me in the "diet" area.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;IS THERE ANY (Other) TIME?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;The time is now! - that's what you always hear.  But I think whoever said that didn't have children.  Seriously?  With school, preschool, naptimes, and feedings, finding ANY time for myself is, well, difficult.  I know that school is until 11:30 - naptime is until around 3, and feedings are every other hour about.  So the ONLY time I can even leave my house is around 3:30 and I have to be back by 6 in order to feed my hungry animals again (this includes dad). :-)  And the worst part...  Is the guilt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "&gt;Why I even feel guilt - I don't know...  Sometimes I think it's because of our culture, my upbringing, or just plainly being a woman and mom and it just comes with the territory and emotional hormonal imbalances. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "&gt;I know and have heard from "expert" opinions that taking time for yourself is healthy and good - and I KNOW it is - but even knowing that doesn't seem to quail the guilt monster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;MY TUSH WILL GO ON&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;So I'll continue pushing and going and moving and trying my best to keep this booty active.  And hopefully, in time, it will shrink along with the madness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-6491580026116311?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/6491580026116311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=6491580026116311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/6491580026116311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/6491580026116311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-motivation-monster.html' title='My Motivation Monster'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TP07BFFcn_I/AAAAAAAAAE8/1JVqvV9B7nw/s72-c/monster.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-101735506164880177</id><published>2010-11-22T07:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T07:21:44.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Week of Thanks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOqKd4C-sQI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Tpysv1Eqi6o/s1600/DSC02810.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOqKd4C-sQI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Tpysv1Eqi6o/s400/DSC02810.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542394537298538754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;This time of year always bring out the thankfulness in me. There are so many things that I am so lucky to have. And not just a house, or food (which most of us have) - but the big stuff like 4 beautiful healthy children who make me laugh daily, a kind and faithful husband, and the church and atonement that will allow me to be with my Heavenly Father again one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;It seems too early to be getting so sentimental. But lack of sleep sometimes brings the emotional and "feely" side out of me. And since sleep has been a little lacking these days - it seems most days I cry about something. Whether it's a commercial, a song on the radio, or just random thoughts and daily trials.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;It's funny how the things that I am so thankful for - seem to be the things I also complain the most about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;You know, complaining seems to come too easy - especially for me. I think that if you hold it in than it will build up and one day explode into a big meltdown. This has actually happened once or twice - so my conclusion after these breakdowns was to always be honest about how I'm feeling and what I'm going through. But this turns out to be a fault of mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I sometimes say things - that maybe should have been kept under lock and key. Because being truthful about what you feel and think can sometimes be deemed somewhat "inappropriate".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I just typed a couple of examples of things I've done and said - but I actually deleted them due to the fact that I'm still a little embarrassed about them. But lets just say that they probably shouldn't have come out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I am just so thankful for friends and family who know these things, and love me anyways.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;So Thankful!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Yesterday I took my measurements as compared to 6 weeks ago. For the first time in awhile I was actually thankful for a measuring tape. I'm going to put these on this post. Not because I really want anybody to know them - but I know that I will eventually loose the paper that I wrote them down on (either by kid or a mommy extreme clean-up), and I want to have something to compare to 6-weeks from now. I'll take motivation in any form right now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;FIRST MEASUREMENT (Oct. 12)&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;SECOND MEASUREMENT (Nov. 21)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Waste&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;36.5"&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;32.5"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Hip&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;43.5"&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;                &lt;/span&gt;41"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Thigh&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;26"&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;       &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;24.5"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Neck&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;14"&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;                  &lt;/span&gt;13"&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Chest&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;40"&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;                 &lt;/span&gt;39"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Gut&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;?&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre; "&gt;                  &lt;/span&gt;39"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope by New Years to have some smaller numbers - we'll see...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-101735506164880177?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/101735506164880177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=101735506164880177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/101735506164880177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/101735506164880177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2010/11/week-of-thanks.html' title='A Week of Thanks'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOqKd4C-sQI/AAAAAAAAAE0/Tpysv1Eqi6o/s72-c/DSC02810.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-2984968995215069731</id><published>2010-11-16T08:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-16T09:51:30.208-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight losshttp://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOK6KC9Os9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Hxp-I-jfEMM/s1600/DSC02766.JPG'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Motivation'/><title type='text'>Here I Go Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOK5TIQCEHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/TEhlRQUgChM/s1600/DSC02664.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOK5TIQCEHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/TEhlRQUgChM/s320/DSC02664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540194229902512242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyVzjoj96vs"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyVzjoj96vs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;I remember sitting on the couch (which was basically my home the last 3 months of my pregnancy), finishing my Kneaders turkey sandwich and 2 pastries and thinking to myself "How am I ever going to get this weight off?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;My starting weight before I got pregnant was 145.  But, like usual, not being able to move and eating up a storm, I once again gained my regular 55 lbs over the course of the next 9 months.  I really DO NOT care about weight when I'm pregnant.  It's almost a gift :-)  But I do fret over whether or not I can lose the weight again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;In February when I found out I was pregnant I was shocked -&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;to say the least.  I had just been invited to join a team for Ragnar and was feeling healthy and in shape.  The gym was actually becoming a happy place to visit.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I hate to admit it - but I cried and was upset about having to do all that work all over again.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Going to the gym is like a sweet roll that tastes like crap.  Both good and bad.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Constantly feeling like your working against your own body to form it into something that it obviously doesn't want - but once it's done your body lets you know how grateful it &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;is.  In short: Working out, for me, hurts like hell (especially in the beginning).  This is part of my dread when getting pregnant - to know that I have to do the beginning all over again.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOK6KC9Os9I/AAAAAAAAAEE/Hxp-I-jfEMM/s320/DSC02766.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540195173374276562" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I know, I know - why don't I just work out throughout the pregnancy and stay in shape.  I see women at the gym with 8 month bellies working their patooties off, why not me?  Well - if it was possible you'd see me there elipticalling it away with baby got front - but time after time my body does not allow it.  Of course I try, and after 3 days of not getting out of bed after a workout I eventually decide that taking care of my kids, home, and husband is more important than staying in shape.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;NOW.....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;It's begun again.  My starting weight was 189, and after my 6-week program I am at 165.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;But staying motivated is the hardest thing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Let me take you through a typical day really quick.  Wake up 2-3am, feed baby.  Wake up 4-6am - feed baby.  7-8am feed Xay in bed.  Justin gets breakfast for kids.  8:20am Mira off to school.  On M,W,F - Boyd off to preschool at 9:30.  Start load laundry, clean kitchen, pick up house until 11:19 when Mira gets out.  Get Mira, get Boyd.  Make lunch.  Rulon's nap.  (All the time feeding Xaylor and holding Xaylor).&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Keep kids quiet so Rulon &amp;amp; Xaylor can sleep.  After naps - pack up all 4 kiddies (takes about 30-45 minutes) and head to the gym.  2 hour "break" of kicking my toosh, pack kids back up in car.  Go home, make dinner, watch kiddie show, bathtime, bedtime routine (anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours).  Bounce Xaylor until he falls asleep (anytime from 10pm-12am).  Off too bed for another day.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Just to make it clear - I &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;LOVE &lt;/span&gt;BEING A MOM!  My days don't weigh me down, I enjoy my job.  It's just hard staying motivated.  No nummy food, no shopping, no sleep, and until recently no sex = stressful tiredness unfunness.  &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;I know this won't last forever - and I tell myself this every day :-)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;But in order to stay motivated I feel like I need to keep a log of my diet, exercise, and feelings.  This way I can see my progress and not feel like I'm doing this for nothing.  Even if I can only do 7 push-ups rights now - maybe in two weeks I'll be able to do 8.  Sometimes the day to day progress isn't noticeable - but being able to read back on where I was 2-3 ago and looking at where I'm at now will help inspire me to keep going.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;So today....  I had a shake for breakfast, will have almonds and chicken for lunch, apple for a snack, and than at 4:00 I head to the gym.  Justin picks up the kids at 5:30 so I can work out longer and than for dinner I will have another shake and some more nuts.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Current stats:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last Run: 3 miles in 35 minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last weight: 10 lb biceps, 12 lb mower pulls, 70 lb pull downs, 3-sets 20 each triceps, 7 push-ups, 50 lb push tri's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last elliptical: 3 miles in 34 minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last stairclimber: 50 floors in 15 minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last rower: 2000 meters in 13 minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last bike: 112 cal, 2.98 miles in 10 minutes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here I go again :-)  Wish me luck!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-2984968995215069731?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/2984968995215069731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=2984968995215069731' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/2984968995215069731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/2984968995215069731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2010/11/here-i-go-again.html' title='Here I Go Again'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOK5TIQCEHI/AAAAAAAAAD8/TEhlRQUgChM/s72-c/DSC02664.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-5201109027720195066</id><published>2010-11-15T09:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T11:44:49.111-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pregnancy'/><title type='text'>MOTIVATION</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOGD0f2HXsI/AAAAAAAAADc/CSB8nl6i8Hg/s1600/DSC02655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOGD0f2HXsI/AAAAAAAAADc/CSB8nl6i8Hg/s320/DSC02655.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539853954567331522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;On September 26th, Xaylor James Butterfield was born.  He was so adorable!  We were SO glad to finally get &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;him here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;MY PREGNANCY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the first couple months I began to be extremely exhausted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By 3-4 months&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; into it - I began to have severe pains in my legs and back.  In the morning I would shake uncontrollably for hours.  I couldn't walk without pain, and the exhaustion grew to the point where some days I couldn't even get out of bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;By 4-5 months &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;- I began asking for help.  Justin was missing too much work and it became obvious that I would need to swallow my oversized pride and ask others to help me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dear Friend Renae would come over 2 mornings a week, and my sweet Mother-In-Law would come over 2 mornings as well.  After 4 weeks of this pattern, the shaking stopped, and Justin began working from home most mornings until I could manage my exhaustion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;By 5-6 months&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - the back and leg pain became so severe that I couldn't sleep at night.  Sharp pains would just come out of nowhere at anytime, whether awake or asleep.  My friend Renae hooked me up with a Chiropractor.  It helped a little bit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I began contracting and had to go to the hospital several times to stop the labor.  I contracted anywhere from 5-30 times a day, every day, at about 28 weeks pregnant until Xaylor came (at 38 weeks).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;By 6-8 months&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; - sleep was nonexistant.  I figured it was just preparing me for the new baby.  I tried to &lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOGNNPlxrWI/AAAAAAAAADs/tOX-S2Wuhoo/s320/DSC02350.JPG" style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539864275305213282" /&gt;stay positive, but most days left me in tears.  I pushed through the pain in order to take my kids places, but that usually resulted in 2-5 days of not getting out of bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My visiting teacher (aka: my angels), came and cleaned my house, even my toilets.  It was hard for me to let them do this, feeling so useless - but I love them so dearly for helping me during that hard time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;MY DELIVERY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was Sunday, and the Primary Program was at 1:00.  I had to be there at 12:15 to make sure everything was set to go.  I wanted it to be perfect.  I'd been having dreams about everything and anything that could go wrong.  I tried not to &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOGD0yFIhOI/AAAAAAAAADk/ZsT00f7Y4yk/s320/DSC02596.JPG" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539853959462159586" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;stress - but this was my baby and I wanted it to be perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everything was set, the kids were in their seats, and sacrament meeting began.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At 1:05 my contractions began.  This was no big deal - this happened everyday - so I just ignored it as best I could.  But than another, and another, and they weren't far apart.  I waved Justin down (three kids down the pew), and pointed to my wrist.  He knew exactly what that meant.  Contraction, than 5 minutes later contraction, than 5 minutes later contraction.  IT WAS FINALLY HAPPENING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was giving the closing remarks and so I sat there, with a new excited glow, waiting my turn to speak so we could get the heck out of there!  I began my remarks with "My contractions are currently 5-minutes apart, but hooray I made it through the primary program."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Justin and I hurried and arranged places for the kids to go, and grabbed Mira and off we went to the hospital.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Xaylor was born at 8:30pm and was so beautiful.  The delivery went perfect, he was perfect, and I felt great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BUT - now began my road to recovery.  So I've decided to begin a journal of my daily grime and grit.  I'm hoping it will give me more motivation and strength as I struggle and thrive being a mother of 4.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-5201109027720195066?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/5201109027720195066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=5201109027720195066' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/5201109027720195066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/5201109027720195066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2010/11/motivation.html' title='MOTIVATION'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOGD0f2HXsI/AAAAAAAAADc/CSB8nl6i8Hg/s72-c/DSC02655.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-3888222409561027517</id><published>2009-05-18T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T09:03:32.041-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Baby Rulon'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGClH4qQI/AAAAAAAAACA/jEW8vLIj-ho/s1600-h/DSC01861.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGClH4qQI/AAAAAAAAACA/jEW8vLIj-ho/s320/DSC01861.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337194412293794050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGCeAUUFI/AAAAAAAAAB4/nfJJcqUKPbk/s1600-h/DSC01821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGCeAUUFI/AAAAAAAAAB4/nfJJcqUKPbk/s320/DSC01821.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337194410383003730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGCPGtMYI/AAAAAAAAABw/gnkXB_hMzfY/s1600-h/DSC01825.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGCPGtMYI/AAAAAAAAABw/gnkXB_hMzfY/s320/DSC01825.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337194406383268226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NEW BABY BOY&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Rulon Justin Butterfield&lt;br /&gt;05/04/09 @ 1:22am&lt;br /&gt;6 lbs 3 oz, 20 inches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a crazy last couple of weeks.   Of course having a baby is always a crazy thing:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the sleepless nights, the sore boobs, and the "healing" down below - you know, the usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's crazy how each baby is so different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mira:  So excited.  First baby.  Took so long to get pregnant.  Than she came, and that's when all hell broke loose.    Screaming, barfing, non-cuddly, beautiful baby Mira.  Post pardom was awful.  But I had no idea what I gotten myself into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boyd: So excited.  Second baby.  Only a couple months of fertility.Very nervous about having another newborn (hence the Mira era).  He came and was such a snuggler.  He was a spitter too, but the cuddling made up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rulon:  SURPRISE!  Got pregnant during a huge transitional time.  Hardest pregnancy yet on my body.  Labored for 3 weeks on and off.  Being sent home without a baby from the hospital is the worst!  But than he came.  Easiest delivery ever!  Perfect, with no complications at all.  Even the healing has been awesome.  He's such a sweetie, and loves to cuddle.  He looks just like his Dad, and not much like his Bro &amp;amp; Sis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are loving having him here.  So far not too bad.  I'm still getting up every 30-90 minutes throughout the night, and am a little sleep deprived, but we're going good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has bright blue eyes and brown hair.  When he looks at me it seems like there is such sweetness and smarty pantness behind his eyes.  I cannot wait to see him grow up and get to know his little spirit more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We feel SO blessed to have our children.  They are all so different and so fun.  And YES - we do plan on adding more:-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-3888222409561027517?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/3888222409561027517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=3888222409561027517' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/3888222409561027517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/3888222409561027517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2009/05/new-baby-boy-rulon-justin-butterfield.html' title=''/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/ShGGClH4qQI/AAAAAAAAACA/jEW8vLIj-ho/s72-c/DSC01861.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-7190287838443364210</id><published>2008-11-06T17:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T17:40:27.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>OH THE JOYS OF A RENTAL HOME</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SROcc7ji46I/AAAAAAAAABE/17iJ3wrfM9o/s1600-h/DSC01012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265724410163291042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SROcc7ji46I/AAAAAAAAABE/17iJ3wrfM9o/s320/DSC01012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SROccsj3ktI/AAAAAAAAAA8/0t4ZQUHtkDk/s1600-h/DSC01009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265724406138114770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SROccsj3ktI/AAAAAAAAAA8/0t4ZQUHtkDk/s320/DSC01009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OF MICE AND MEN (or WOMAN)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I got up and we are finally getting over the strep. Yep - Tuesday the whole family spent the morning at an IHC instacare where the result was positive. Not in a good way. Everybody had strep. After two days of awfulness - I was ready this morning for a good day - dangit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After laundry and cleaning all morning (finally a clean house...) I was vacuuming and a little friend scampered across the floor. Now - I'm not really scared of a mouse - but yes I did do the girly Ahhh and may have jumped a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He/she ran straight into my pantry full of all sorts of yummy foods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate to admit it - but I panicked. I called Terminex and was going to let them deal with it. They didn't call back for 2 whole hours. I had trapped the little bugger with one of the kids blankies blocking the pathway under the door (yes I washed this later - ewe!). When they called back and told me they wouldn't be here until tomorrow I knew what had to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with spatula and rubber bowl in hand I opened the pantry. "Here mousy mousy". I slowly took one thing out at a time. There was mouse poop everywhere and two bags of chips and actually been eaten through - not very bright because just 2 shelves up there was a perfectly good bag of chips already opened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was ready to smack and cover at the first movement. Just then - I stepped on something squishy and I was up in arms (jumping and squealing at the same time). Whew - it was just one of those stupid jelly bracelets. But where the crap is the mouse?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cleaned out the whole pantry - which was great for finally gettting it organized - and the little bugger wasn't there. He must have slipped out during the jelly bracelet part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No mouse - dangit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called Justin and told him to stop on the way home and pick up some mouse traps (as this is exactly what the Property Management Company told me to do - losers!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Justin got home he started to put the traps together and as he was sticking them in the bottom of the pantry - POP - there he/she was!!! I told him to move aside and let me get the bugger. I was getting this mouse one way or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He/she JUMPED AT ME - and BAM - I smacked the plastic bowl right on top of his head. VICTORY!!! I was so excited. Mira and Boyd came a running - they thought that was the coolest thing ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - but it wasn't Over - OH NO! POP, scatter, POP - OH MY HECK - yep Another one. Justin slid the first one across the floor with the kids scooting along with him. You'd think we never had a pet - oh wait we never have. So anyway...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It jumped too (must be a sibling, they act the same:-). And BAM - under the bowl he went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew! Now they sit in their little bowls with paper plate lids (with air holes of course) with mouse killer pellets just waiting to be eaten. They really are quite cute little verman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT - I burned my chicken while I was trying to catch them - so I think we might be having MouseKaBobs for dinner:-) So much for cute - more like nummy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-7190287838443364210?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/7190287838443364210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=7190287838443364210' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/7190287838443364210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/7190287838443364210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2008/11/oh-joys-of-rental-home.html' title='OH THE JOYS OF A RENTAL HOME'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SROcc7ji46I/AAAAAAAAABE/17iJ3wrfM9o/s72-c/DSC01012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-1459789141141520192</id><published>2008-10-31T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-31T19:36:10.682-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><title type='text'>HALLOWEEN 2008</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAExsBszI/AAAAAAAAAA0/7MqmV34xhRw/s1600-h/DSC00989.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263511777802564402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAExsBszI/AAAAAAAAAA0/7MqmV34xhRw/s320/DSC00989.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAEZQ642I/AAAAAAAAAAs/DHQpsAw6zKA/s1600-h/DSC00990.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263511771246420834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAEZQ642I/AAAAAAAAAAs/DHQpsAw6zKA/s320/DSC00990.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAEIawJVI/AAAAAAAAAAk/SAjprTUlqxQ/s1600-h/DSC00985.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263511766724257106" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAEIawJVI/AAAAAAAAAAk/SAjprTUlqxQ/s320/DSC00985.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvADcHPqyI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9K_LrnTXjv0/s1600-h/DSC00983.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263511754831276834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvADcHPqyI/AAAAAAAAAAc/9K_LrnTXjv0/s320/DSC00983.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvADItsd0I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Xd84eqPg5Bc/s1600-h/DSC00992.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263511749623838530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvADItsd0I/AAAAAAAAAAU/Xd84eqPg5Bc/s320/DSC00992.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So today started out NOT like any other day. Up before dawn due to my endless nightmares this week (Must Be A Halloween Thing), and than a morning and afternoon filled with yard work fun.&lt;br /&gt;BTW - THANK YOU TAMMY, ANNA &amp;amp; KIRSTEN for ALL your help today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got the flowerbeds to look Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 1:00 I was ready to pass out - this included not just yard work but several diaper changes, quick lunch for the kids, and 2 time outs. Whew! So I began my short relaxation on the couch with some leftover chicken enchiladas - YUMMY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 2:30 I began getting Mira and I ready for trick or treating at Daddy's work. I know I should have passed on this - but who misses the chance to show off such cute kids:-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 3:30 all the kids are in the car ready to go. I still have rollers in my hair and for the life of me I cannot find my cell phone. WITHOUT MY CELL PHONE - I am driving naked. It's just not doable. So I began my calls to my phone with half my curlers still in my hair and only 1 knee high nylon on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I kept my ear to the side of that couch for 3 whole phone calls. For the life of me - I couldn't figure out how the heck it got down there. So I got a knife and I attempted to turn the BIG couch over. My leg still hurts. So I braced myself and grunted a big "OOOOOOOAAA" and it lifted. It was a miracle. However - I heard a distinct ripping sounds from my body. I was a little worried until I saw that the whole side of my costume had been torn. But - I got my phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off to Dad's work. Fun - quick, and dad got off early.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the 1st year I've gotten to go trick-or-treating with the kids. It was so much fun. The only problem was when someone didn't answer the door - Boyd would break down into a fit of rage. Can you blame him - I mean What The Hell is wrong with people that write things on their door like "No Candy, Go Away". Asses! Boyd just expressed what we were all feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came home and spread out the candy and went Hog Wild. All of us ate til we were sick. Boyd opened all the suckers and tasted them and than ate the one he thought was the best. I had to remind my conservative hubby (aka Dad) - that it wasn't a big deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm ready to get this dress off and relax my ta-tas for awhie. PJ's and shower here I come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone had as fun a Halloween as we did!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-1459789141141520192?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/1459789141141520192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=1459789141141520192' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/1459789141141520192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/1459789141141520192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2008/10/halloween-2008.html' title='HALLOWEEN 2008'/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/SQvAExsBszI/AAAAAAAAAA0/7MqmV34xhRw/s72-c/DSC00989.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5317579771765258580.post-3350788877476413509</id><published>2008-10-26T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T18:13:31.065-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Party Time'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;October 26, 2008&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;BOYD'S FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is my first official blog.  I've heard this is pretty cool stuff - so I thought I'd give it a try.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Boyd's Birthday was yesterday.  We didn't really say anything because his party is next week (we delayed his birthday due to a BYU football game - I know, I know).  But when we went to the Butterfield Halloween party they sang to him.  He was so excited to get all that attention and he is just learning how to blow out the candle.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Basically - he sucks at the candle thing - but he's got years to improve it:-)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Than we went to a haunted forrest at this nursery which was pretty cool for being free.  I wish I would have known ahead of time because my cute black heels were not the shoe of choice for the dirt path.  Step, smoosh, step, smoosh - you get the gist.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mira was so scared and kept grabbing onto me as tight as possible - thus cutting off my air circulation.  Which basically came down to step, squish, breath, step, squish, breath.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;However today she was begging to go back.  She's such a horror junkie.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So a BYU game, Halloween party, Birthday Party, and haunted forest - I think I'm pretty much a super Mom (for a moment anyway).&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh and Boyd is the freakin cutest chicken/turkey I've ever seen.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5317579771765258580-3350788877476413509?l=jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/feeds/3350788877476413509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5317579771765258580&amp;postID=3350788877476413509' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/3350788877476413509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5317579771765258580/posts/default/3350788877476413509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jjmbbutterfield.blogspot.com/2008/10/october-26-2008-boyds-first-birthday.html' title=''/><author><name>BUTTERFIELDS</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09376555969262619062</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cH_VDzJbr-Q/TOFxube6M9I/AAAAAAAAACk/T_fRxs-HYJc/S220/DSC02678.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
