<?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-1026989841244594740</id><updated>2012-01-28T21:40:38.892-08:00</updated><category term='musical'/><category term='Phantom'/><title type='text'>Narcissistic Echo</title><subtitle type='html'>Because that's what a blog is. Am I right?</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>253</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7837335627475258638</id><published>2012-01-28T13:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T14:57:04.515-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fake MLK Jr Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan works at a startup company. They had a pressing deadline, so Dan had to work on Martin Luther King Day. But they said they would make it up to him. He would get the next Monday off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So, this past Monday we packed a picnic. The kids "helped" me put the sandwiches and apples and chips and water into a big basket. Asher was very excited. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The day was overcast, my favorite. We drove over to Discovery Park.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot35JEWR6Gw/TyRtpO9BiTI/AAAAAAAAA0I/V7q4KyqhlwI/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-28%2Bat%2B2.47.41%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot35JEWR6Gw/TyRtpO9BiTI/AAAAAAAAA0I/V7q4KyqhlwI/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-28%2Bat%2B2.47.41%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702803583314004274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We spread out a blanket in the middle of a huge field of yellowing grass. We were practically the only people there. Asher passed out the food like the baggies were Christmas gifts. We ate, and then walked over to a little hill. Dan had thrown some cardboard in the back of the car, so the kids would have make-shift sleds. They both had the time of their lives sliding down the hill, until a security guard drove over in a little cart and kindly informed us that our fun times were against the rules. Ah, well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wDCO5qrJWR8/TyRtpjLo7-I/AAAAAAAAA0g/rVBM2hk5g44/s1600/asheratpark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wDCO5qrJWR8/TyRtpjLo7-I/AAAAAAAAA0g/rVBM2hk5g44/s400/asheratpark.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702803588744015842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_q-Y1EiqdkE/TyRtpI0kz3I/AAAAAAAAA0Y/aCrAVvJI6aM/s1600/gwennducks.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After that, we went over to the duck pond. We had a few crumbs to throw into the water. Gwen couldn't throw far, but she sure wanted to try. These ducks weren't as trusting as, say, the ducks at Los Carneros Lake in Goleta... but there were some brave ones that came close enough for a snack. We left when Asher started complaining about the smell. For some reason there were dead fish everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_q-Y1EiqdkE/TyRtpI0kz3I/AAAAAAAAA0Y/aCrAVvJI6aM/s1600/gwennducks.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_q-Y1EiqdkE/TyRtpI0kz3I/AAAAAAAAA0Y/aCrAVvJI6aM/s400/gwennducks.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702803581667954546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today is Saturday. To digress from this story, but say something pertinent about "the now" as Edna from The Incredibles calls it, I participated for the second time in our neighborhood co-op. I paid my $17 and got a box filled with fresh kiwi, pineapple, apples, clementines, red potatoes, broccoli, blueberries, strawberries, lettuce, asparagus, tomatoes, carrots, and green beans. Last time I drove with the leaders of the group down to the warehouse. It was really interesting and fun. This week there weren't as many participants, so they didn't need me. I just got to show up at the park and pick up my box. I guess that was good for today, because I am sick and so are Gwen and Dan, but hopefully next time I can drive because that means I get my box for free.       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7837335627475258638?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7837335627475258638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7837335627475258638' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7837335627475258638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7837335627475258638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2012/01/fake-mlk-jr-day.html' title='Fake MLK Jr Day'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Ot35JEWR6Gw/TyRtpO9BiTI/AAAAAAAAA0I/V7q4KyqhlwI/s72-c/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-28%2Bat%2B2.47.41%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3149435039135734890</id><published>2012-01-16T12:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T13:23:34.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Go bags</title><content type='html'>This past Christmas the theme for BOTH sides of the family was provident living/preparedness. The year &lt;i&gt;before&lt;/i&gt; both themes were "homemade Christmas." I don't know how we get on the same page like that. Anyway, we got Heather and Jeff gift certificates and sewing supplies. But for my sister and her family, I made some "go bags." They are supposed to be filled with supplies and important documents, etc. that you can just grab and take with you quickly in case of an emergency. I made one for each member of the Wrenn family... but there is another boy on the way, so I'm going to have to get busy with another bag!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7AbVwHyFicE/TxSPeZk-zRI/AAAAAAAAAzw/7bbhS9j2oHM/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.24.14%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7AbVwHyFicE/TxSPeZk-zRI/AAAAAAAAAzw/7bbhS9j2oHM/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.24.14%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698337180955364626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I chose bright colors and sturdy fabrics. I followed a tutorial I found online &lt;a href="http://www.saltwater-kids.com/2008/10/retro-duffel-bag-tutorial.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v4W8_KDQa4Y/TxSPd915KeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/_EVShRT1CRU/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.25.42%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 261px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v4W8_KDQa4Y/TxSPd915KeI/AAAAAAAAAzk/_EVShRT1CRU/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.25.42%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698337173510105570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;These were incredibly fun to make. It was a satisfying project. I usually hate installing zippers, but this was actually kind of fun. I have left over fabric... I totally want to make more for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9GNdvoXqj50/TxSPdt6U4cI/AAAAAAAAAzY/SQo3g0EBqGw/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.25.22%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9GNdvoXqj50/TxSPdt6U4cI/AAAAAAAAAzY/SQo3g0EBqGw/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.25.22%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698337169233732034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3149435039135734890?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3149435039135734890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3149435039135734890' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3149435039135734890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3149435039135734890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2012/01/go-bags.html' title='Go bags'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7AbVwHyFicE/TxSPeZk-zRI/AAAAAAAAAzw/7bbhS9j2oHM/s72-c/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-16%2Bat%2B1.24.14%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5064804280936443475</id><published>2012-01-10T19:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T12:04:45.327-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Super Post-Christmas Post</title><content type='html'>Christmas happened last month, in case you hadn't heard. I'll give my blog the highlights... you know, for posterity. Or for two years from now, when I can't remember what the heck I did.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First of all, we put our Christmas decorations up early, which for us means before December 20th. But seriously, it was right after Thanksgiving this year. Yay team Hixon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I tried to start a tradition for us when we got married. I wanted to add a special ornament to our stash each Christmas- something that would represent the year. Dan doesn't care about this idea. So, I feel kind of lame every time I try to obtain a new ornament. It is like buying myself nice jewelry: it just feels wrong. I haven't been consistant. We don't even have one for the year Gwen was born. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtcvOaGSDhE/TwtUW1wU8KI/AAAAAAAAAy0/mI-QiRTgQpM/s1600/IMG_0767.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtcvOaGSDhE/TwtUW1wU8KI/AAAAAAAAAy0/mI-QiRTgQpM/s400/IMG_0767.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695738905103757474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Above is a shot of an ornament Dan and I bought in Vegas in 2008. Also pictured is a little something Sue Brown (Mom's friend) made me in 1985.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83nPtQqwBl8/TwtUWi91r-I/AAAAAAAAAyk/FoJjRS8bHZ4/s1600/IMG_0757.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-83nPtQqwBl8/TwtUWi91r-I/AAAAAAAAAyk/FoJjRS8bHZ4/s400/IMG_0757.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695738900060155874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is one of my special ornaments that broke this year. Asher blames Gwen. I wasn't in the room at the time. It was a gift from Suzie Couch. She gave it to me after we wrapped the first play I ever did at the Circle Bar B in 2004. I'm thinking that next year I will just have a "destroy my special ornaments" party and call that tradition a failure.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well, all except the ornament below. I think it works nicely as a star for my nativity. Plus, it was a gift from a wonderful student of mine when I taught Junior High.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H6lYy8kLuq8/TwtUWSufoMI/AAAAAAAAAyc/72kmgngwoZ0/s1600/IMG_0752.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H6lYy8kLuq8/TwtUWSufoMI/AAAAAAAAAyc/72kmgngwoZ0/s400/IMG_0752.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695738895700828354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;During the month of December we also went to a few parties. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-Our church party was Grinch/Whoville themed. It was awesome! And they had a hair contest, so there were a lot of wholicious hairstyles walking around. They even had an actual Grinch! Asher was quite scared of him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-The white elephant gift exchange/game night at the Stewarts. It was a blast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-RS progressive dinner... just for the ladies. I set a table with my china. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-White Elephant/game night party at Amy's house. There were a ton of people there, so the game of Telestrations we played was hilarious and off the hook.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;-I sang (and accompanied myself on piano) at a young single adult party. I performed Silent Night. I was disappointed with my performance, but it wasn't terrible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Another thing that occurred in December was a fun little visit right before Christmas. My sister-in-law Heather came into town to hang out with me for a couple days. She also wanted to learn how to sew. And no offense to anyone else I have taught, but she was my best student ever. She picked things up really quickly, and was motivated, direct, and self-sufficient. And she is super fun to talk to and be with. We are kindred spirits in a few ways. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Christmas came on a Sunday this year, which was really nice. Because before opening gifts, we got to go to church. That is how it should be done every year. Anyway, we were pretty low key on the gifts this year. We tried to keep to the old "Something you want, something you need, something to wear, something to read" theme. I think it is a fantastic plan. We might try it every year. The kids loved their presents from Santa, which were pirates and Blackbeard's ship for Asher and a "dancer mouse" for Gwen (Angelina Ballerina). And they were really excited that the reindeer ate the special food we left for them on the curb on Christmas Eve.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The day after Christmas we drove to Utah to stay with my parents for about a week. I felt like I hadn't seen my family in a long time, so it was really nice. It would have been even better if the Wrenns and my brother and his wife were there, but that was not to be. As it was, we had a super fun time with my parents, my Grandma (who is living with my parents until she can buy a house there), the Bourgeouses and my sister Tracy. We played some fun games and talked and enjoyed each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is a shot of the sisters. I'm wearing a blanket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zEuEefkqqaw/Twdy4LJv1XI/AAAAAAAAAyE/1Qy4P_bsX5U/s1600/SistersIMG_0739.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zEuEefkqqaw/Twdy4LJv1XI/AAAAAAAAAyE/1Qy4P_bsX5U/s400/SistersIMG_0739.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694646563225195890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My Grandma treated Tracy and I to lunch and a pedicure one day. I just love my Grandma. Another day my mom and Kristy and Tracy and I went shopping at a cool discount decorator's fabric store. We went a few other crafty places as well.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There is something about Utah that is just enchanting. Dan thinks so too. We don't think we want to really live there still, but it is so fun to visit. Provo, Springville, and Mapleton are fun and quaint and pretty in the wintertime. We love all the old buildings and the nice people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really get Dan anything for Christmas, so we went gun shopping while we were in Utah. He didn't actually end up buying a gun at this store, but I had to take a picture because that Elk was threatening to come back to life the entire time we were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MyeGe1jELqA/TweK7i3OCmI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/Y2e_lzxPIBk/s1600/IMG_0712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MyeGe1jELqA/TweK7i3OCmI/AAAAAAAAAyQ/Y2e_lzxPIBk/s400/IMG_0712.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694673009408608866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan bought a gun when he went up North for a day to "work" with his friend and colleague Ron Adair. They probably worked a little bit, but they also drove around and shot stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One night Dan and I left the kids at my parent's house and Dan and I went out for a date. Tracy recommended a fun place to eat at Riverwoods called La Jolla Groves. I loved that they didn't serve alcohol and it was still posh and classy. This is a shot of the inside. (We would have frozen outside.) If you looked up, the branches of the fake lemon trees showed a fake night sky with fake stars shining. I actually thought it looked very magical, even though I'm using the word "fake" over and over again. It was the good kind of fake. Plus the food was all good for you organic type stuff and it tasted AMAZING. Even Dan liked it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SuTE5Sq9HU/TwdxlRZt9YI/AAAAAAAAAx4/jBE4s2Ev55k/s1600/IMG_0714.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3SuTE5Sq9HU/TwdxlRZt9YI/AAAAAAAAAx4/jBE4s2Ev55k/s400/IMG_0714.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694645138973652354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;PS "Riverwood" was a little shopping center, and it was covered with lights. While walking around there, we ran into some friends of ours from Santa Barbara, the Amundsens. That was random and very fun. Rachel is pregnant with number 4, and she was carrying around her own barf bucket. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;After that, we drove to a movie theater to see Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. It was pretty good. And we hadn't been on a date in so long, it felt like our anniversary. And it almost was, so I guess that counts. Anyway, even though it was just dinner and a movie, it felt like more because we were in a new place having fun experiences. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One last thing. Kristy, my mom, my kids and I all went for a little walk just five minutes from my mom's house. It is where she goes walking when the weather is nicer. It is amazing how the ground can be dry at my mom's house and snowy at the trail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n4qW6YEPKhM/TwdxlImaPjI/AAAAAAAAAxs/-GwnTXTtqZ0/s1600/IMG_0724.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n4qW6YEPKhM/TwdxlImaPjI/AAAAAAAAAxs/-GwnTXTtqZ0/s1600/IMG_0724.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n4qW6YEPKhM/TwdxlImaPjI/AAAAAAAAAxs/-GwnTXTtqZ0/s400/IMG_0724.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694645136610967090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids had a fun time in the snow. We saw LOTS of cougar tracks. We threw some snowballs into a stream. Gwen had a smile on her face the whole time. Asher got cold near the end, and needed me to carry him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So that was December. There was so much going on I didn't have time to blog. But now we are back in the swing of things... hooray! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5064804280936443475?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5064804280936443475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5064804280936443475' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5064804280936443475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5064804280936443475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2012/01/super-post-christmas-post.html' title='Super Post-Christmas Post'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JtcvOaGSDhE/TwtUW1wU8KI/AAAAAAAAAy0/mI-QiRTgQpM/s72-c/IMG_0767.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7469276485073633022</id><published>2012-01-04T15:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T19:59:19.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TEN YEARS.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dUIk_NwY0cU/TwUdEUVSJII/AAAAAAAAAxg/j8Ppr8lhacg/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-04%2Bat%2B8.43.06%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 315px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dUIk_NwY0cU/TwUdEUVSJII/AAAAAAAAAxg/j8Ppr8lhacg/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-04%2Bat%2B8.43.06%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693989263894520962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yesterday was our tenth wedding anniversary. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tenth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan and I have been married TEN years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It doesn't seem like it has been that many years.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And yet, sometimes it seems like it has been longer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rvpAp4tDBnk/TwTf71Em2AI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/eHJCk4Y9Hhk/s1600/mendan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rvpAp4tDBnk/TwTf71Em2AI/AAAAAAAAAxQ/eHJCk4Y9Hhk/s400/mendan.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693922047854827522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We don't just love each other. We like each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We enjoy talking to each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We like doing things together. We like hanging out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wAcZ5NSBLJY/TwTf7zTKdqI/AAAAAAAAAxI/DvNunD6YuSw/s1600/danjamie.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wAcZ5NSBLJY/TwTf7zTKdqI/AAAAAAAAAxI/DvNunD6YuSw/s1600/danjamie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wAcZ5NSBLJY/TwTf7zTKdqI/AAAAAAAAAxI/DvNunD6YuSw/s400/danjamie.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5693922047379011234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Last night we went to the temple, and then we got In n Out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Not exactly a big way to celebrate, but that is how we roll. Some years we go all out, some years we don't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I feel like we already celebrated in Utah anyway. More on that later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan is the best. He appreciates me for who I am. He laughs with me, loves me, and does the dishes. He is a fantastic father and a good role model. He supports me in my interests and believes in me. He is smart, crazy talented at many things, and he can live with me when I am at my worst. I love him. He loves me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am one lucky girl.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7469276485073633022?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7469276485073633022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7469276485073633022' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7469276485073633022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7469276485073633022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2012/01/ten-years.html' title='TEN YEARS.'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dUIk_NwY0cU/TwUdEUVSJII/AAAAAAAAAxg/j8Ppr8lhacg/s72-c/Screen%2BShot%2B2012-01-04%2Bat%2B8.43.06%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1517868562395071623</id><published>2011-12-13T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T18:22:29.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Once there was a Snowman</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When Asher was born &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I could hardly wait for the day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; that I would be able to hang his art on my fridge. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mj7dDIk_FE4/TugGhLsclJI/AAAAAAAAAws/7h9OiDFgyTY/s1600/photo%2B%25289%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mj7dDIk_FE4/TugGhLsclJI/AAAAAAAAAws/7h9OiDFgyTY/s400/photo%2B%25289%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685801696699913362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thank you Ms. Kerri and Ms. Renae&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; for helping my wildest dreams come true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(See how it is puffy? I think it's shaving cream and glue.)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uIOe1YPk9Cc/TugGhfW0Q3I/AAAAAAAAAw4/l_DprSbZejE/s1600/photo%2B%252810%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uIOe1YPk9Cc/TugGhfW0Q3I/AAAAAAAAAw4/l_DprSbZejE/s400/photo%2B%252810%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5685801701977899890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1517868562395071623?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1517868562395071623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1517868562395071623' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1517868562395071623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1517868562395071623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/12/once-there-was-snowman.html' title='Once there was a Snowman'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Mj7dDIk_FE4/TugGhLsclJI/AAAAAAAAAws/7h9OiDFgyTY/s72-c/photo%2B%25289%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4233387807880107175</id><published>2011-11-30T19:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T07:48:48.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gwen, Thanksgiving, and Asher listens!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I4BGuQmCW_w/Ttb1Dvo3KnI/AAAAAAAAAv8/yii_24O4tVU/s1600/_dan2263.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I4BGuQmCW_w/Ttb1Dvo3KnI/AAAAAAAAAv8/yii_24O4tVU/s400/_dan2263.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680997424650726002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gwen turned two on November 19th. We still had some sickness in our house, so we didn't have a big party. As it was, she enjoyed opening her four gifts (Mrs. Potato Head, 2 books, and a baby doll- plus a card from G&amp;amp;G Hixon) and wearing a tutu all day. She also enjoyed stuffing cake into her mouth, as pictured. We enjoyed having Mom and Dad Hixon there, as well as cousin Ericson.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gwen is a very sweet child. She has her moments, of course. She yells like a demon monster when she thinks she is being ignored, and she freaks out when her brother gets too close to her sometimes. But she is also a singing, dancing, hugging, communicative, happy little girl. She likes all things girly and sweet. She loves books and she loves playing. She loves the park, and she is finally brave enough to go down the little slides by herself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On to Thanksgiving... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QxnsmlmwSVo/Ttb1E54qA5I/AAAAAAAAAwg/YCTHa2LhvLQ/s1600/_dan2326.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QxnsmlmwSVo/Ttb1E54qA5I/AAAAAAAAAwg/YCTHa2LhvLQ/s400/_dan2326.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680997444581196690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I want to document this because Dan and I seriously had a hole in our minds where&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt; last&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Thanksgiving should have been. I looked to my blog to fill in the gap. NOTHING. Seriously, how did that happen? Anyhow, our memories were jogged as soon as someone reminded us that it took place at the Stecks house. Right. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;this year&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt; it was at Stephen and Rachel's. We (I) made stuffing and an apple pie. The stuffing ended up a little soggy, but it had a good flavor... and the pie was delicious. My pie is not pictured in the spread, but let it be written. I made one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kfReVKVkZZ8/Ttb1EST3JmI/AAAAAAAAAwU/f8OvwC5e_Wg/s1600/_dan2324.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kfReVKVkZZ8/Ttb1EST3JmI/AAAAAAAAAwU/f8OvwC5e_Wg/s400/_dan2324.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680997433957885538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The food was delicious, the company was awesome, and Jake and Hannah fed Gwen so that I didn't have to. She would have been good with a booster seat, but we are lame and didn't bring one. Three things that I loved were the personalized letters we got at our place setting from a member of the S&amp;amp;R Hixon family (mine was from Jake, and it was so sweet), the cork "thankful" tree that you can sorta see in the above picture (More than one of their children is thankful for the show "Lost"), and the chalkboard featuring a scripture on gratitude (it looked like they changed the scripture at least a few times this month).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K1yMN9Qpg5w/Ttb1EM_CPLI/AAAAAAAAAwI/vfhAqZAOEYQ/s1600/_dan2305.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K1yMN9Qpg5w/Ttb1EM_CPLI/AAAAAAAAAwI/vfhAqZAOEYQ/s400/_dan2305.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680997432528354482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(This is Gwen getting love from Hannah and Grandma.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Lastly, I was shocked by something Asher said today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He really seems like he is never listening. Sometimes he asks "What you said?" and I have to repeat myself at least three times before he actually tries to listen to the answer. So today I told Gwen to be patient about something, and Asher turned to her and said, "Yeah Gwen. Don't you remember about patience from Family Night? You have to wait and wait with a smile on your face." I was astounded. I hardly remember that lesson, and I really doubted he was understanding it, but it must have gotten into that brain of his somehow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Now if he could just show her patience by example... that would be something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4233387807880107175?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4233387807880107175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4233387807880107175' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4233387807880107175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4233387807880107175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/11/gwen-thanksgiving-and-asher-listens.html' title='Gwen, Thanksgiving, and Asher listens!'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-I4BGuQmCW_w/Ttb1Dvo3KnI/AAAAAAAAAv8/yii_24O4tVU/s72-c/_dan2263.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-885662358342641056</id><published>2011-11-15T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T07:22:37.989-08:00</updated><title type='text'>new website love</title><content type='html'>I'm slightly addicted to &lt;a href="http://pinterest.com/littlejay/"&gt;Pinterest&lt;/a&gt;, but that is not the website I am going to talk about. I discovered this new fun website &lt;i&gt;through&lt;/i&gt; Pinterest though, so it should get a mention.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Disneyland. I love Pixar. I love Disney movies. I also love fashion. So of course I would love &lt;a href="http://disneybound.tumblr.com/"&gt;Disneybound&lt;/a&gt;. I love the idea of putting together an outfit based on a character, a movie, or even a section of Disneyland. And the way this girl does it is so understated and clever. And cute! Here are some favorites:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Based on a classic princess...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UGF51-6F9hQ/TsLm6uAfXvI/AAAAAAAAAvI/wAnRhc8e4cc/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B12.07.05%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 358px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UGF51-6F9hQ/TsLm6uAfXvI/AAAAAAAAAvI/wAnRhc8e4cc/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B12.07.05%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675352376897134322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...a classic character...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-SGT9XIu4GFE/TsLm6XXIYtI/AAAAAAAAAu8/WCZiQ1RPIH4/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.24.35%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675352370818081490" style="cursor: pointer; width: 343px; height: 400px; " /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...and sometimes there are more than one outfit for the same character. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pMhDXzwqXug/TsLm56RYooI/AAAAAAAAAuw/sjvczbJEgcs/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.25.04%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pMhDXzwqXug/TsLm56RYooI/AAAAAAAAAuw/sjvczbJEgcs/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.25.04%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675352363009352322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N5_x8ZDHXWw/TsLm5gOEciI/AAAAAAAAAuk/0e3sdNjzLCc/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B12.00.47%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 399px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N5_x8ZDHXWw/TsLm5gOEciI/AAAAAAAAAuk/0e3sdNjzLCc/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B12.00.47%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675352356016124450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sometimes there are couples costumes! I think you could wear something like this for family pictures and nobody would ever know where your inspiration came from.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-giZ95SMErsk/TsLqaE06FcI/AAAAAAAAAvU/oYybaIQ0wGY/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.26.03%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 284px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-giZ95SMErsk/TsLqaE06FcI/AAAAAAAAAvU/oYybaIQ0wGY/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.26.03%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675356214133396930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyway, it's awesome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh! And there are Harry Potter inspired outfits as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6Ok99MFl7g/TsLrIIBKJtI/AAAAAAAAAvo/hJaPInyyprE/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.35.27%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 379px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V6Ok99MFl7g/TsLrIIBKJtI/AAAAAAAAAvo/hJaPInyyprE/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.35.27%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675357005264070354" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kxCcy8Wr9WE/TsLrH29bx2I/AAAAAAAAAvg/jV7xMCjTN3U/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.30.42%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kxCcy8Wr9WE/TsLrH29bx2I/AAAAAAAAAvg/jV7xMCjTN3U/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.30.42%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 364px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kxCcy8Wr9WE/TsLrH29bx2I/AAAAAAAAAvg/jV7xMCjTN3U/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B11.30.42%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675357000685045602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If I can get myself to think this way about my clothes, I might not hate getting dressed every day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-885662358342641056?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/885662358342641056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=885662358342641056' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/885662358342641056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/885662358342641056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/11/new-website-love.html' title='new website love'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UGF51-6F9hQ/TsLm6uAfXvI/AAAAAAAAAvI/wAnRhc8e4cc/s72-c/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-15%2Bat%2B12.07.05%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3050522007138842585</id><published>2011-11-10T15:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-10T19:01:40.837-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The luckiest girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yesterday was Dan's birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First of all, I would like to ask... How lucky am I??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_7m9VXusZdI/TryBDR3hw1I/AAAAAAAAAs4/9Wuy6GKwhRE/s1600/1151866698__dan6266.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_7m9VXusZdI/TryBDR3hw1I/AAAAAAAAAs4/9Wuy6GKwhRE/s400/1151866698__dan6266.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673551523915875154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Look at how handsome Dan is. This picture was taken probably a year after we got married, and he still looks exactly like this. No wrinkles, no weight gain, no hair loss. He has some grays, but I think they are cute. You really only notice them when you are cutting his hair anyway. And not many people other than me and his mother have had that privilege. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Not only is Dan handsome, he is smart, funny, spiritual, a great dad, a fantastic photographer, and as I sit here and type about how great he is... he is doing the dishes. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We went out to Oreganos last night while Dan's sister Amy watched our kids. The food was exquisite. And we got dessert because their pazookies are the best dessert I have ever had from any restaurant ever. It was so fun to just sit and converse with him, even if the heat lamps were broken and it was super cold outside. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan usually makes my birthdays special. I try to reciprocate in my own way, but it is kind of hard because a) he doesn't like people to have to fuss over him and b) anything that would make him really happy would require a financial meeting between he and I, therefore eliminating the element of surprise. I had the kids make him cards, and I got him the Steve Jobs book. I got him a few articles of clothing and an itunes gift card. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I made him this shirt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EvYOqViwjos/TryBkYPwtZI/AAAAAAAAAtE/veLE1idLKaY/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-10%2Bat%2B6.58.35%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EvYOqViwjos/TryBkYPwtZI/AAAAAAAAAtE/veLE1idLKaY/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-10%2Bat%2B6.58.35%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 378px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EvYOqViwjos/TryBkYPwtZI/AAAAAAAAAtE/veLE1idLKaY/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-11-10%2Bat%2B6.58.35%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673552092563813778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is kind of like Asher's shirt, but more apocalyptic and Flight of the Conchords-y. I think he liked it. I laughed as I made it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyway, I love my husband. I always think about how I don't deserve him. I have definitely changed in the looks department, and I have gotten more crazy with kids. But somehow he still thinks I'm awesome. Thank goodness for love being blind, eh?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3050522007138842585?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3050522007138842585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3050522007138842585' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3050522007138842585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3050522007138842585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/11/luckiest-girl.html' title='The luckiest girl'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_7m9VXusZdI/TryBDR3hw1I/AAAAAAAAAs4/9Wuy6GKwhRE/s72-c/1151866698__dan6266.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1291263193349566972</id><published>2011-11-03T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-18T08:01:27.490-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This was Halloween</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was an enjoyable Halloween for all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I enjoyed staying home to hand out candy while Dan enjoyed escorting our children up and down neighboring streets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids enjoyed walking around in their costumes and getting free candy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am told that Gwen walked the entire time by herself, and she had a smile on her face although nobody knew who she was supposed to be. Maybe the pigtales threw them off. But believe me, if we would have taken them out at that point, her hair would have been crazy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And Alice does not have crazy hair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyway, Dan said that people knew that she was cute, and that is enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl5zAPjtXR4/TrNABVbPtzI/AAAAAAAAAr4/7z3HmP7QRRk/s1600/halloween_dan1615.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl5zAPjtXR4/TrNABVbPtzI/AAAAAAAAAr4/7z3HmP7QRRk/s400/halloween_dan1615.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670946747465054002" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On the other hand, everyone knew who Asher was. Captain Jack Sparrow is notorious. When Asher settled on this costume, it was my dream come true. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Look at him getting into it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YoHbVFNPxDY/TrNAA2dU_NI/AAAAAAAAArs/9GyY0WZ4_oM/s1600/halloween_dan1608.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YoHbVFNPxDY/TrNAA2dU_NI/AAAAAAAAArs/9GyY0WZ4_oM/s400/halloween_dan1608.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670946739152288978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All I made for his costume was his wig. I crocheted different kinds of black yarn that I had stashed in my craft closet, added a few beads, and then sewed them to the top of some pantyhose. Voila. Jack's hair. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And I finally did "finish" Averey's costume. If I wanted to invest any more time in it, it could have looked better, but honestly I was dying on this one. It was so detailed, and things kept going wrong. The fabric was too stretchy and kept getting all out of whack, the model magic dried funky and cracked, and then the resin wouldn't dry... nightmare. Anyway, this is how it turned out. If I ever make another costume like this, I now know how I will go about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, and she was wearing my humongous petticoat just for the picture. But honestly it might look better without it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yYqVPv-saMM/TrNADUl7qyI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/rH3dQagGI3A/s400/halloween_dan1503.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670946781601180450" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just FYI. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S7VmhYAYrcs/TrNACcC82MI/AAAAAAAAAsE/q8S-giFXnXc/s1600/halloween_dan1527.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S7VmhYAYrcs/TrNACcC82MI/AAAAAAAAAsE/q8S-giFXnXc/s400/halloween_dan1527.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5670946766422071490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1291263193349566972?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1291263193349566972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1291263193349566972' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1291263193349566972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1291263193349566972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/11/this-was-halloween.html' title='This was Halloween'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Rl5zAPjtXR4/TrNABVbPtzI/AAAAAAAAAr4/7z3HmP7QRRk/s72-c/halloween_dan1615.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6104307072403977520</id><published>2011-10-26T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-26T14:52:36.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Making stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The past week and a half have been crazy. Crazy. We dealt with sickness (mostly Dan and Gwen), wrote and gave talks in church, and just had a bunch of little responsibilities to attend to. Most of all, I was busy making stuff. I was asked to make a "freezer paper stencil" shirt to display at a homemade holidays themed activity, which I did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Cea5pyO1_0/Tqh5f9NZ8SI/AAAAAAAAAq4/ReJCzo4rhCo/s1600/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-10-26%2Bat%2B2.18.32%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 375px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Cea5pyO1_0/Tqh5f9NZ8SI/AAAAAAAAAq4/ReJCzo4rhCo/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-10-26%2Bat%2B2.18.32%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667913720959463714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Honestly, this has been on my "to do" list for a long time. My friend Jen, who is an awesome designer, gave me the high-res designs of her robot coins almost a year ago, and I finally got around to using them. That is how I roll. (See Jen's original project&lt;a href="http://www.ambrosiagirl.com/blog/robot-coins/"&gt; here&lt;/a&gt;.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ODcXwMy_N4/Tqh5fmAb6cI/AAAAAAAAAqs/rYwffqhQTdY/s1600/IMG_0532.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8ODcXwMy_N4/Tqh5fmAb6cI/AAAAAAAAAqs/rYwffqhQTdY/s400/IMG_0532.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667913714731051458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I put some metallic paint in with the black. I like it. Asher loves it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;I also made a Halloween costume for my girl. She looks so much like an Alice right now, I just had to try and replicate the Tim Burton movie costume. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fo-0W7J0C0A/Tqh7278tkQI/AAAAAAAAArQ/AkiIyGdWvig/s1600/alice_3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fo-0W7J0C0A/Tqh7278tkQI/AAAAAAAAArQ/AkiIyGdWvig/s400/alice_3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667916314781257986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know where all the mistakes are, but honestly I am so happy with the way it turned out. And I entered it into a costume contest. I probably won't win, but if you want to vote for me you can click this &lt;a href="http://www.burdastyle.com/gallery/275?page=244"&gt;link &lt;/a&gt;and help me win some cash. Until Halloween, that is, when the contest will be over. You don't have to sign up for the site if you sign in through your facebook or twitter account.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W6S-oPVheAg/Tqh72tGIkBI/AAAAAAAAArE/CmZYaXXv7Zk/s1600/alice_1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W6S-oPVheAg/Tqh72tGIkBI/AAAAAAAAArE/CmZYaXXv7Zk/s400/alice_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667916310794244114" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" &gt;I include this picture because she looks exactly like me when I was her age. I should find an old photo and prove it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Last but not least, I have been working on my niece's Zelda costume. The dress and the crown are done, but the armor has been giving me some trouble. I have it all molded out, but the resin coating won't dry! Frustrating. Anyway, this is the picture my niece referred me to when she asked me to make her costume.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 340px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bS57Z1w2C4E/Tqh_oLPftEI/AAAAAAAAArc/XrcQheuaEyk/s400/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-10-26%2Bat%2B2.42.40%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667920459235046466" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is a bit detailed, don't you think?? I'll post pictures of that when it is completely finished. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6104307072403977520?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6104307072403977520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6104307072403977520' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6104307072403977520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6104307072403977520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/10/making-stuff.html' title='Making stuff'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Cea5pyO1_0/Tqh5f9NZ8SI/AAAAAAAAAq4/ReJCzo4rhCo/s72-c/Screen%2BShot%2B2011-10-26%2Bat%2B2.18.32%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6254039531056271128</id><published>2011-10-20T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T23:33:55.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Farm Field Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today Gwen and I joined Asher's pre-school group on a field trip to Vertuccio Farms. My boy wanted to be pushed in the stroller from our car to the entrance, and then he demanded to be held as soon as he saw a bee... just a little sign of things to come. He also flipped out (and I mean on the point of tears) every time he saw a fuzzy caterpillar. I picked one up in the effort to show him that they were awesome. Asher remained hysterical and unconvinced.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This photo basically sums up the attitudes of my two children while we were there. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJwstxBDI1I/TqEIKCWXd7I/AAAAAAAAAqc/tiryD9_iXGY/s1600/IMG_0499.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJwstxBDI1I/TqEIKCWXd7I/AAAAAAAAAqc/tiryD9_iXGY/s400/IMG_0499.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665818774731192242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gwen was so incredibly happy, I thought she might burst. Asher was probably wondering why I was torturing him. At first he thought the train ride might be fun, but then he tried to jump out just before it departed. I somehow made him accompany his sister, and he ended up liking it once it got going. He also liked the bouncy house for a few minutes, and he liked the &lt;i&gt;idea&lt;/i&gt; of the bouncy horses. (You can almost make them out in the back of the first picture.) We tried them for a few minutes, but the kids found it hard to balance. So I ended up hanging out on the "horses" and bouncing with both kids. I'm sure I looked super cool.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The farm also had this huge thing that was a cross between a giant trampoline and a humungous jello mold. Asher liked that too. And he didn't mind the animals in cages. And he liked the "knock-a-crow-over-with-bean-bags" game because he could stand about two inches away from the crows and sometimes knock them down. We need to work on some of his athletic skills. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-daYczIiCpPI/TqEEx7gbU2I/AAAAAAAAAp0/qUDct7i-_z8/s1600/IMG_0490.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-daYczIiCpPI/TqEEx7gbU2I/AAAAAAAAAp0/qUDct7i-_z8/s400/IMG_0490.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665815062042596194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;There was a "high striker" (you know, the thing you hit with a mallet that makes a bell ring at the top?) for kids, and one for adults. Asher had me demonstrate the little one for him, and he tried but did not do well. He lost the desire to play almost instantly, but cheered on a few other kids. I don't think he likes hitting games. He was terrible with a piñata at Sofia's birthday party as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids started looking hot and tired after a few hours. Asher asked to go home quite a few times. We didn't even go &lt;i&gt;near&lt;/i&gt; the corn maze. But the last thing they tried before we bought two little pumpkins and took off was milking a cow. Not a real one. A pretend one.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MOIvheSDMbQ/TqEExWTTWdI/AAAAAAAAAps/qaB75GiKc90/s1600/IMG_0524.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MOIvheSDMbQ/TqEExWTTWdI/AAAAAAAAAps/qaB75GiKc90/s400/IMG_0524.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665815052055435730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids really thought this was interesting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is a good thing we don't live on a farm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CbK8mejvZms/TqEExL1iv9I/AAAAAAAAApg/gyFeqKIBqbs/s1600/IMG_0526.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CbK8mejvZms/TqEExL1iv9I/AAAAAAAAApg/gyFeqKIBqbs/s400/IMG_0526.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665815049246261202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&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;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6254039531056271128?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6254039531056271128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6254039531056271128' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6254039531056271128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6254039531056271128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/10/farm-field-trip.html' title='Farm Field Trip'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NJwstxBDI1I/TqEIKCWXd7I/AAAAAAAAAqc/tiryD9_iXGY/s72-c/IMG_0499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4107211235503787704</id><published>2011-10-07T18:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T15:27:07.363-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall, FINALLY.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have no pictures of the amazing weather yesterday. Nor do I have any visual proof of our trip to the park, but it happened, and I was practically weeping with joy inside to be able to load the kids into the stroller and take them outside to play. Just to sit and talk with my friend Nancy while our children ran and jumped and played in the sand was exquisite. We didn't have to worry about our kids dehydrating or getting burned by the playground equipment. And they were so happy.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I hear that temperatures are going back up next week. Well, to use a Shakespearean term, I bite my thumb at that, Sir. But I know that the intense summer heat of the desert is finally starting to retreat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Huzzah!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4107211235503787704?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4107211235503787704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4107211235503787704' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4107211235503787704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4107211235503787704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-finally.html' title='Fall, FINALLY.'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1618133965868013998</id><published>2011-09-22T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-24T13:41:38.801-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I started this painting YEARS ago. It was my first attempt at oil painting, and it was a gift to Dan for Christmas/our anniversary/Valentine's Day... you get the picture. For the last two years I have just considered it done, although I had never signed it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Then I was asked to put it on display for a church "talent show" night (tomorrow). Not a huge deal, but I still wanted it to be "finished."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I worked on it a bit two nights ago, and I finally felt ok about signing it. There, done.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wwbBx2heaTs/TnvGCijSiuI/AAAAAAAAAos/slz6leRKB-Y/s1600/degasweb.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wwbBx2heaTs/TnvGCijSiuI/AAAAAAAAAos/slz6leRKB-Y/s320/degasweb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655331504030649058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I should note that this picture of the painting makes it look more washed out and flat than it really is. Plus in real life it is HUGE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here are two little close up shots of the detail.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vWPJKvqfd7g/TnvjRtusaeI/AAAAAAAAAo8/uIZCUzshhjw/s1600/_dan8040.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vWPJKvqfd7g/TnvjRtusaeI/AAAAAAAAAo8/uIZCUzshhjw/s400/_dan8040.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655363650566515170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I love impressionism. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5iqDLfJu2_c/Tnvi6vxOr_I/AAAAAAAAAo0/bJyp9CDu2bI/s1600/_dan8022.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5iqDLfJu2_c/Tnvi6vxOr_I/AAAAAAAAAo0/bJyp9CDu2bI/s400/_dan8022.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5655363255977029618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1618133965868013998?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1618133965868013998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1618133965868013998' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1618133965868013998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1618133965868013998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/09/finally.html' title='Finally'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wwbBx2heaTs/TnvGCijSiuI/AAAAAAAAAos/slz6leRKB-Y/s72-c/degasweb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6929738547648663534</id><published>2011-09-16T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-16T22:46:41.183-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures I Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sorry I've been away... I blame Pinterest. And my own laziness. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hu1oGM4aUKM/TnQyTPWT95I/AAAAAAAAAnI/vQ2153S1ZtI/s1600/20110914_4127.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hu1oGM4aUKM/TnQyTPWT95I/AAAAAAAAAnI/vQ2153S1ZtI/s320/20110914_4127.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653198738375833490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I cannot express how grateful I am to have a husband that can take beautiful pictures. I love that talent he has. And also, I love my children. How could I do anything but adore these faces??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7mqEI1DHH64/TnQySk2LxaI/AAAAAAAAAm4/mEWqU2kjhjU/s1600/20110911_4113.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7mqEI1DHH64/TnQySk2LxaI/AAAAAAAAAm4/mEWqU2kjhjU/s320/20110911_4113.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653198726966789538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-csaFfHjY13U/TnQySaBMjkI/AAAAAAAAAmw/KR6-sXSKGQI/s1600/20110914_4130.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-csaFfHjY13U/TnQySaBMjkI/AAAAAAAAAmw/KR6-sXSKGQI/s320/20110914_4130.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653198724060188226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EPcj2V9Mm-s/TnQySMVT1eI/AAAAAAAAAmo/tJAC_OjR2fw/s1600/20110911_4101.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EPcj2V9Mm-s/TnQySMVT1eI/AAAAAAAAAmo/tJAC_OjR2fw/s320/20110911_4101.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653198720386455010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I said "these faces"- so I'll add one of Asher. (The only reason this is Gwen-heavy is because I feel like she usually gets the shaft. We have way more pics of Asher than we do of Gwen.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sPVAD3zS-Rk/TnQySws7kpI/AAAAAAAAAnA/iisQv-Tm8uc/s1600/20110911_4026.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sPVAD3zS-Rk/TnQySws7kpI/AAAAAAAAAnA/iisQv-Tm8uc/s320/20110911_4026.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5653198730149204626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6929738547648663534?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6929738547648663534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6929738547648663534' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6929738547648663534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6929738547648663534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/09/pictures-i-love.html' title='Pictures I Love'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hu1oGM4aUKM/TnQyTPWT95I/AAAAAAAAAnI/vQ2153S1ZtI/s72-c/20110914_4127.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-339084509730680938</id><published>2011-09-06T22:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T18:11:40.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remembering When</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;2005&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I remember looking through the Phantom's box. Box Five.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg5tLcaRzHg/TmcC4matLYI/AAAAAAAAAmg/m02TJNP35oU/s1600/img_0288.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg5tLcaRzHg/TmcC4matLYI/AAAAAAAAAmg/m02TJNP35oU/s320/img_0288.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649487428968066434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I remember thinking the Paris Opera House was one of the most beautiful buildings I have ever seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VE9US1qG4E4/TmcC4LsjkeI/AAAAAAAAAmY/nMzpjHJapC0/s1600/img_0300.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VE9US1qG4E4/TmcC4LsjkeI/AAAAAAAAAmY/nMzpjHJapC0/s320/img_0300.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649487421795176930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I remember roaming the grounds of a few old properties that are now in the care of the National Trust. I felt like I was in a Jane Austen story. We got pretty close to the deer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8AXc8nZSnHw/TmcC3zVHAmI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/XwKx-N1zImY/s1600/img_0740.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8AXc8nZSnHw/TmcC3zVHAmI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/XwKx-N1zImY/s320/img_0740.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649487415254385250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...walking around in an English town that hasn't visibly changed for centuries... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wp7CFAtYXSA/TmcC3RlEeGI/AAAAAAAAAmI/Yk5fixqRKls/s1600/img_1036.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Wp7CFAtYXSA/TmcC3RlEeGI/AAAAAAAAAmI/Yk5fixqRKls/s320/img_1036.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5649487406194522210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh I am glad I made those memories. And I'm thankful for Dan's photography skills. I just wish we could go on an amazing adventure again! (Italy this time?) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;;-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-339084509730680938?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/339084509730680938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=339084509730680938' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/339084509730680938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/339084509730680938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/09/remembering-when.html' title='Remembering When'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg5tLcaRzHg/TmcC4matLYI/AAAAAAAAAmg/m02TJNP35oU/s72-c/img_0288.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2610905317560735029</id><published>2011-08-21T19:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T18:09:32.564-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Night Time Conversation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tonight, after a book (WALL-E, his old favorite movie, is making a come back), scripture, and prayer... I tucked my boy in, grabbed his face, and said "Asher, I need to tell you something. Are you listening?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vGqzx7XwWN4/TlHDS9LZo0I/AAAAAAAAAmA/4jkeDskfEIE/s1600/20110812_2810.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vGqzx7XwWN4/TlHDS9LZo0I/AAAAAAAAAmA/4jkeDskfEIE/s320/20110812_2810.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643506538499384130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Yeah."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Some days are easy, huh?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Yeah."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"And some days are hard."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Yeah. Some days have bad feelings in it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Yeah that's true, Buddy. Some days &lt;i&gt;do &lt;/i&gt;have bad feelings in them. But you know what?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"What?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I love you every day."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Asher smiled. "I love you every day too." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Even the hard days. I love you &lt;i&gt;every&lt;/i&gt; day."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I love you to the moon and back." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I love &lt;i&gt;you&lt;/i&gt; to the &lt;i&gt;sun&lt;/i&gt; and back!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"No, Mom! It's not sunny, it's &lt;i&gt;moon&lt;/i&gt;y!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Ha! You're right. Well, I love you to infinity and beyond."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"No Mom. You have to say 'to the moon and back.'"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Alright. I love you to the moon and back."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"I love you to the moon and back too."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;PS Today at church, he told me he loved me to the temple and back.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-2610905317560735029?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2610905317560735029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2610905317560735029' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2610905317560735029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2610905317560735029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/08/night-time-conversation.html' title='Night Time Conversation'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vGqzx7XwWN4/TlHDS9LZo0I/AAAAAAAAAmA/4jkeDskfEIE/s72-c/20110812_2810.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-865741295603671014</id><published>2011-08-16T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T21:29:45.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a Pathological Liar</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have performed with Dick Van Dyke... twice if you count Disneyland.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was directed and taught by John Cleese in college. He praised my acting and my British accent.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I went to acting school with Edi Gathegi (aka Laurent from the Twilight movies)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I sang at Katy Perry's 16th birthday party. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I grew up with Ryan Mendez from Yellow Card, and he married one of my good friends. I'm pretty sure he had a crush on me for a little while in High School. I'm pretty sure he would also admit to that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of my friends from High School married a pro football player. Right now he's with the Cards.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was once taken to some mystery building in New York to meet a guy that produced half of all the shows on Broadway. He had a weird elevator. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am friends with the folks who wrote the book for Sister Act the musical (which is only the latest in a long line of accomplishments for them).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have performed for Julia Childs, Joel Schumacher (director), Fred Couples (pro golfer), and so many other "famous" people- I've lost count. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I met Jared Leto, the guys from Jimmy Eat World (regulars at my dad's old club), Kathy Bates (oscar winner!), and I'm sure I'm leaving at least 10 more notable people off that list. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My friends from college are on TV. National commercials, spots in shows, music videos... and two of the guys from my class are currently shooting a TV movie that one of them wrote.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;No, I'm not lying. But when I put it all down like that, even &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt; don't believe it. You know what's kind of funny? I don't really care. I mean, I'm glad I've had all of those experiences... but being a mom that can't get a paying acting job to save her life right now is ok. My days aren't full of excitement, but honestly, I don't think my famous friend's days are any more exciting. And I'm building little people over here, which is amazing!   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTJwB3osaTA/TktA4QpT3nI/AAAAAAAAAl4/mTJOm5__9eI/s1600/Me_and_JC.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTJwB3osaTA/TktA4QpT3nI/AAAAAAAAAl4/mTJOm5__9eI/s320/Me_and_JC.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641674293496766066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;John Cleese once told me that "being famous was a f***ing bore." Please excuse his language for one moment and consider... if your life is boring, having more money or fame would NOT fix things. You would still be bored. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Every once in a while I have to remind myself of this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And please excuse the awkward picture. It isn't super flattering for either of us, but it's all I've got. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-865741295603671014?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/865741295603671014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=865741295603671014' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/865741295603671014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/865741295603671014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/08/not-pathological-liar.html' title='Not a Pathological Liar'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mTJwB3osaTA/TktA4QpT3nI/AAAAAAAAAl4/mTJOm5__9eI/s72-c/Me_and_JC.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-9074943203244472986</id><published>2011-08-13T15:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-13T19:34:14.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gwen and stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I looked at Gwen yesterday and noticed that she is getting older. I mean, she has enough hair for pigtails, she is getting longer and bigger in general. She is no longer measuring tiny for her age. Well, except for those size 3 baby feet. And those 6 half-grown in teeth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lk_8zsfTvns/Tkb8R8HyJZI/AAAAAAAAAlw/pm9SQgDYf4Y/s1600/20110812_2803.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lk_8zsfTvns/Tkb8R8HyJZI/AAAAAAAAAlw/pm9SQgDYf4Y/s320/20110812_2803.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640472968454874514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But she is starting to talk instead of whining for things. I love this stage in a child's life! The other day she sweetly said "Have cheese?" instead of crying and reaching at lunch. She says "that one!" and "Don't want it" (A LOT thanks to Asher) and she has said "Can I have?" for quite a while now. She knows lots of single words like &lt;i&gt;belly, nose, hair,&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;shoes&lt;/i&gt;, but she is actually putting sentences together now. She loves saying all of our names, including her own. And she sings recognizable songs like "Hello, Dolly," "You are my Sunshine," and "I am a Child of God." But my favorite happened last night. She and I were playing on my bed and she put her head on my chest and said "I yov you." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, my heart.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-enA0uFaXEL8/Tkb8RdKIesI/AAAAAAAAAlo/3LdsWdKfDnU/s1600/20110812_2804.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-enA0uFaXEL8/Tkb8RdKIesI/AAAAAAAAAlo/3LdsWdKfDnU/s320/20110812_2804.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640472960143227586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;FYI: I had a birthday. I didn't post about it, but it was awesome. Dan surprised me by taking me to a nice hotel in Scottsdale for the night while our niece (and sometimes nephew) watched our kids. We went to a crazy awkward but yummy hipster place called Cowboy Ciao for dinner, we walked around the mall (but didn't even see half of it because it is HUGE) and had dessert at the Herb Box. It was great to sleep in. And then we went to a place called Dilly's Deli, then home. That is a very abridged version of what happened.&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/1026989841244594740-9074943203244472986?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/9074943203244472986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=9074943203244472986' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/9074943203244472986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/9074943203244472986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/08/gwen-and-stuff.html' title='Gwen and stuff'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Lk_8zsfTvns/Tkb8R8HyJZI/AAAAAAAAAlw/pm9SQgDYf4Y/s72-c/20110812_2803.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8751757069882475112</id><published>2011-07-18T14:15:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-18T23:26:44.854-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pirate Party!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Guess who had a birthday?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xUiRL6-EEw/TiSi9X7X2DI/AAAAAAAAAkw/Ze-29wVcOV8/s1600/20110716_2520.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xUiRL6-EEw/TiSi9X7X2DI/AAAAAAAAAkw/Ze-29wVcOV8/s320/20110716_2520.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804609398724658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I decided to try throwing a real birthday party for Asher. Last year I did nothing, and I felt slightly bad about it. So this year I decided to invite friends and cousins over, make a cake, plan games, have a theme and decorate. The theme we (or should I say &lt;i&gt;I&lt;/i&gt;) chose was &lt;b&gt;Pirates&lt;/b&gt;. &lt;i&gt;Arrrr!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9ylJEDMSqQ/TiSjS1pD2hI/AAAAAAAAAlg/WGUCF_qEVko/s1600/20110716_2702.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k9ylJEDMSqQ/TiSjS1pD2hI/AAAAAAAAAlg/WGUCF_qEVko/s320/20110716_2702.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804978152233490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;First I had to decorate my front room pirate style, you know, with random booty hanging around. Some of it was even edible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BvPf_2TVHfk/TiSjStkS6GI/AAAAAAAAAlY/N4vzjZbE3YU/s1600/20110716_2699.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BvPf_2TVHfk/TiSjStkS6GI/AAAAAAAAAlY/N4vzjZbE3YU/s320/20110716_2699.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804975984765026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I might leave our light fixture like this. I kinda like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jk6R3VloXBI/TiSi8sCp8FI/AAAAAAAAAkg/0jup7Y3CbH8/s1600/20110716_2471.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jk6R3VloXBI/TiSi8sCp8FI/AAAAAAAAAkg/0jup7Y3CbH8/s320/20110716_2471.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804597618110546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I made a cake. My favorite part is the candles sticking out of the sides, like oars or cannons. And before you think I'm brilliant, I must confess that I got the idea from &lt;a href="http://familyfun.go.com/recipes/pirate-ship-cake-686286/"&gt;this website&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OQYMj-Ew7vg/TiSjSM5d3mI/AAAAAAAAAlI/BLtsJCThnB8/s1600/20110716_2609.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OQYMj-Ew7vg/TiSjSM5d3mI/AAAAAAAAAlI/BLtsJCThnB8/s320/20110716_2609.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804967215193698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The kids played piratey games...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hVOyWzwybCA/TiSi9-9S5SI/AAAAAAAAAlA/rao88fxZZrc/s1600/20110716_2576.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hVOyWzwybCA/TiSi9-9S5SI/AAAAAAAAAlA/rao88fxZZrc/s320/20110716_2576.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804619875771682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Including a freeze dance game to pirate themed songs. Man, these kids can &lt;i&gt;dance&lt;/i&gt;!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gf1R6GODUkY/TiSi8wGAXtI/AAAAAAAAAko/Y59cjTo79v4/s1600/20110716_2489.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gf1R6GODUkY/TiSi8wGAXtI/AAAAAAAAAko/Y59cjTo79v4/s320/20110716_2489.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804598705905362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;At the end of the party they looked for "buried treasure" under pillows. I just couldn't bring myself to make them go outside and dig in the actual dirt in the middle of the day. I wish I had a picture of the little burlap bags of loot I made, but you will just have to believe me when I tell you that they were way cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yw_6s1OqAck/TiSjSbjVc5I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/iuri-esmBCA/s1600/20110716_2685.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yw_6s1OqAck/TiSjSbjVc5I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/iuri-esmBCA/s320/20110716_2685.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804971148899218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;P.S. I have to include a picture of Gwen. She was a complete angel the entire time. Asher wanted her to dress up like a mermaid, but I was already in a little over my head. How do people throw big awesome parties more than once a year? I was so tired afterward! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ph2bKsdDgvQ/TiSi9hzCVHI/AAAAAAAAAk4/kL3hQfhb764/s1600/20110716_2573.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ph2bKsdDgvQ/TiSi9hzCVHI/AAAAAAAAAk4/kL3hQfhb764/s320/20110716_2573.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5630804612048114802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8751757069882475112?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8751757069882475112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8751757069882475112' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8751757069882475112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8751757069882475112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/07/pirate-party.html' title='Pirate Party!'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7xUiRL6-EEw/TiSi9X7X2DI/AAAAAAAAAkw/Ze-29wVcOV8/s72-c/20110716_2520.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5637277441174763359</id><published>2011-07-14T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-14T13:58:51.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>After the cleanse</title><content type='html'>I just finished a 7 day detox from the GOOP website. (If you want the details follow &lt;a href="http://goop.com/newsletter/15/"&gt;this link&lt;/a&gt;.) Well, actually I did the eating program for 3 days, went on vacation and completely anti-cleansed, and then went back on it for 7 days. The total loss from all of that was about 7 pounds, but if you are just counting the 7 consecutive days, it was 5 pounds. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My review:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was the easiest diet/cleanse I have ever done. Much easier than the Master Cleanse, but that probably goes without saying. I was rarely hungry, and most of the food was good. I LOVED the whey protein and fruit shakes I got to drink every day, and those filled me up for a long time. I also loved the carrot-ginger dressing and the teriyaki chicken. HOWEVER I did &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; like the beet/carrot/apple/ginger juice or the cucumber/basil/lime juice. I had to choke that stuff down. I thought I was going to hate the super greens juice, but that ended up being my favorite of the juices, although I wouldn't make it for fun. Also, I had to flavor my brown rice and my quinoa with a little bit of almond oil and balsamic vinegar. I put my quinoa in an arugula salad, actually. And I never made the salmon, because I don't like fish. I didn't make the cucumber avocado soup because I didn't have an avocado at the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I exercised more than half of the days, burning at least 300 calories each session. It was easy to have the energy for exercising since I was getting a lot of protein each day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I would totally do this again. And I would recommend it to anyone who wants glowing skin and a smaller waistline in 7 days.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5KkMJXZ3YS8/Th8SFzK0hjI/AAAAAAAAAkY/Y6wD9Z-eqlI/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-07-14%2Bat%2B8.56.08%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5KkMJXZ3YS8/Th8SFzK0hjI/AAAAAAAAAkY/Y6wD9Z-eqlI/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-07-14%2Bat%2B8.56.08%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629237950080648754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One last word about the miso soup. You will probably have to go to an &lt;a href="http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/06/oriental-markets-and-stuff.html"&gt;Asian market&lt;/a&gt; to get the ingredients, but it is worth it. You HAVE to get miso paste for this diet. I got two types, a white paste and a darker grains-based paste. I liked the darker one in the soup for sure. &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, and it tasted JUST FINE without the fish flakes.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5637277441174763359?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5637277441174763359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5637277441174763359' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5637277441174763359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5637277441174763359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/07/after-cleanse.html' title='After the cleanse'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5KkMJXZ3YS8/Th8SFzK0hjI/AAAAAAAAAkY/Y6wD9Z-eqlI/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-07-14%2Bat%2B8.56.08%2BAM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2172751967542658549</id><published>2011-07-13T14:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-13T20:02:06.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Final Chapter!</title><content type='html'>The Shumways + 2 strokes of luck = seeing the final Harry Potter movie last night at 7:00pm for FREE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie and Aaron won some free preview tickets to see this movie a few days before the general public. They had 4 tickets, so they decided to invite us. That was the first stroke of luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had to go "early" to make sure we had seats, since the theater usually over-invites for this type of shindig. We got there an hour before the showing, and we were the LAST 4 people to be let in. We were filling in to seats that were meant for press, so they were the best seats in the house. Woot! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The movie was amazing, and I am a harsh critic of movies. The only part that slightly disappointed was the Snape memories/flashbacks. Mostly because that is my favorite part of the entire series (as far as the books go). I want a t-shirt that says "Team Severus" on it. I love him. Anyhoo, the end made me snicker a little bit too, and you will know why when you see it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Last but not least, here is a picture of the four of us in our 3D glasses. I know we look like the 4 blind mice, but they look less dark and more Harry Potter-ish in person. And if you look at yourself in a mirror when you are wearing said glasses, you look like Professor Trelawny.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4PEdgc7KSYo/Th4Nn5gqIeI/AAAAAAAAAkI/rDGA_5pwRYo/s1600/20110713_2458.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4PEdgc7KSYo/Th4Nn5gqIeI/AAAAAAAAAkI/rDGA_5pwRYo/s320/20110713_2458.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628951563363557858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;PS We saw people dressed up as Death Eaters (with the masks and everything... they didn't speak even when ordering food), Hogwarts students with wands, and I saw one guy that looked like he should be at Magic Mountain. His arms and shoulders were completely covered with tattoos and hair. I think if we were playing, I would have gotten a "Premiere Bingo" for sure.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-2172751967542658549?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2172751967542658549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2172751967542658549' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2172751967542658549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2172751967542658549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/07/final-chapter.html' title='The Final Chapter!'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4PEdgc7KSYo/Th4Nn5gqIeI/AAAAAAAAAkI/rDGA_5pwRYo/s72-c/20110713_2458.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3889301456297629401</id><published>2011-06-28T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T19:17:10.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oriental Markets and stuff</title><content type='html'>Lately I've been ignoring my blog. I don't know why. I keep experiencing things and thinking "I should blog about that." But then I don't. Sorry, blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been sewing a lot. Maybe I'll post some pattern reviews later. I made a vest for my nephew, two pioneer dresses complete with bonnets and aprons made out of an old ripped bedsheet for my niece and sister-in-law, and I made a shirt for myself, which I haven't photographed yet. I don't know where my camera is.&lt;br /&gt;I am also in the middle of sewing a duvet cover for our bed. This is long overdue. I will definitely take pictures (or have Dan do it) and post them when I am done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally renewed my gym membership. We were poor for a little while, so I went 6 months without an honest to goodness workout. Unless you count things like dancing in plays. And you might be thinking "Why didn't you just work out at home?" Well, it is difficult for me to split my time when my kids are awake. I can multi-task things like reading and working out, or cleaning and writing music, but you throw my kids into &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt; equation and I just can't do it. And I'd love to walk around outside with the kiddos if it weren't for the infernal heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also decided to go on another cleanse. I feel like I've tried just about every diet, and nothing I've gone through before sounded appealing to me, so I found something new. Somehow I ended up at &lt;a href="http://goop.com/newsletter/15/"&gt;Gwyneth Paltrow&lt;/a&gt;'s website of all places and this is my second day of cleansing. Let me tell you, this is the easiest cleanse or diet I have done. The Carrot and Ginger dressing is to die for.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, the cleanse requires some pretty interesting ingredients. I was able to get whey protein and pro green powder at my local supermarket in the health food section, but they didn't have any miso paste or mirin or dried wakame or bonito flakes. I didn't know what any of that even was, but it sounded Asian.... so I went to my closest oriental supermarket. Which isn't that close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DXi50DNeVk/TgpJQUjXtCI/AAAAAAAAAjw/n6XbIKdqCTc/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.31.41%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DXi50DNeVk/TgpJQUjXtCI/AAAAAAAAAjw/n6XbIKdqCTc/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.31.41%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623387629469283362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Lee Lee's also sells jewelry and buys your gold. It is huge inside. And none of the workers that I ran into really spoke english very well. And none of the food looked familiar to me, and most of the labeling was in Japanese. It took me a while to find out where all of my ingredients were hiding...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AUMcRFg-5eQ/TgpJQ-s-y8I/AAAAAAAAAkA/Ikdl6E6SCwk/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.32.35%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AUMcRFg-5eQ/TgpJQ-s-y8I/AAAAAAAAAkA/Ikdl6E6SCwk/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.32.35%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623387640783883202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;...which was a shame, because the whole place smells very strongly of fish. Not my favorite smell. I guess I got used to it after awhile. And it was worth it, because I got to see things like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vlXpy17ljAQ/TgpJQuMOIcI/AAAAAAAAAj4/sGEE45Ri-j4/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.32.16%2BPM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vlXpy17ljAQ/TgpJQuMOIcI/AAAAAAAAAj4/sGEE45Ri-j4/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.32.16%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5623387636351508930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In case any of you were wondering, I found the miso paste in the refrigerated section, the dried wakame (seaweed) and mirin (sweet liquid) in the Japanese section, and I didn't want to buy the bonito flakes when I found out what they were. I figured my miso soup will taste better without the dried fish flakes in it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3889301456297629401?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3889301456297629401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3889301456297629401' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3889301456297629401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3889301456297629401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/06/oriental-markets-and-stuff.html' title='Oriental Markets and stuff'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9DXi50DNeVk/TgpJQUjXtCI/AAAAAAAAAjw/n6XbIKdqCTc/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-06-28%2Bat%2B2.31.41%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2312232654445332270</id><published>2011-06-06T20:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T20:47:19.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestones</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a8_KYCIe9kI/Te2ZVgsfUhI/AAAAAAAAAjo/6uwkeXnCp68/s1600/5776827083_2eb4269b15_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a8_KYCIe9kI/Te2ZVgsfUhI/AAAAAAAAAjo/6uwkeXnCp68/s320/5776827083_2eb4269b15_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615312905233715730" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ok, so Asher looks way too old for this milestone... but today was the first day he did some #2s on the toilet. Maybe too much information for some of you, but it was a much celebrated event in our house. Also, he wore underwear all day with no accidents. You better believe he was very positively reinforced. ;-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Also, my sister Tracy visited last weekend. It was wonderful, but I didn't blog about it because she did. She is so good at the blogging thing, that if we have the same thing to say, I just leave her to it. But I do have to publicly thank her for taking some awesome family pictures of us while she was in town. Thanks Tracy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;(Side note to the Arizonans: The Palo Verde trees are blooming right now. It is a great time to take pictures just about anywhere around here. This is a sidewalk right outside our neighborhood. You may steal our idea.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GjTzyIiDWyE/Te2ZVZwmxnI/AAAAAAAAAjg/R-JgMNfGC9M/s1600/5776831463_66b327d4af_b.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GjTzyIiDWyE/Te2ZVZwmxnI/AAAAAAAAAjg/R-JgMNfGC9M/s320/5776831463_66b327d4af_b.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5615312903371933298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And even though I know that Asher is in the act of pushing Gwen down in this picture, it is still super precious if I just pretend he is helping her.&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/1026989841244594740-2312232654445332270?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2312232654445332270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2312232654445332270' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2312232654445332270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2312232654445332270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/06/ok-so-asher-looks-way-too-old-for-this.html' title='Milestones'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a8_KYCIe9kI/Te2ZVgsfUhI/AAAAAAAAAjo/6uwkeXnCp68/s72-c/5776827083_2eb4269b15_b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6917863149121698060</id><published>2011-05-26T09:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T12:29:32.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandpa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mUApfxZnUsY/Td6qCYQZMiI/AAAAAAAAAjU/YeBDX0w3h5k/s1600/grandma%2Band%2Bpa.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mUApfxZnUsY/Td6qCYQZMiI/AAAAAAAAAjU/YeBDX0w3h5k/s320/grandma%2Band%2Bpa.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611109143597888034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandpa Mills was an amazing man. His own father died when he was 9 years old. He married my Grandmother when he was 21 and she was 18. He was a father of three, and a scout master to his two boys. He could play the piano and the organ. He graduated from USC with a degree in zoology. He then began teaching college courses in biology and human anatomy. He worked extra jobs so that he could provide for his family. My dad recalls that it was a struggle for his folks to pay the mortgage on the house every month, and many of their rooms didn't have any furniture. For a time Grandpa Mills worked at a liquor store and was once robbed at gunpoint. They tied him up in the back room. His story made it into the paper, although they called him Mr. Miles. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Grandpa had a fascination with planes and flying all his life. He made friends with pilots and got a job washing planes in exchange for flying lessons. By the time I knew my Grandpa he was a certified pilot and he owned a few planes himself. I remember going on a flight with him when I was very young. It was my first experience flying.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Grandfather used to ride his bike 5 miles a day 6 days a week to keep in shape. He was a hard worker. He was occasionally also hard on his kids, especially when my dad was a long-haired teenager, but Grandpa loved his family. And we loved him. Last Friday I attended my Grandpa's graveside service. This is when I found out that he had been in the army for a while. Some smartly dressed men came to our small family gathering and presided over the service. They gave my Grandma a flag, played taps on the trumpet, and shot some rounds to honor my Grandpa.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Grandpa had not been able to speak for some time, he had Alzheimer's disease. The last time I visited him he couldn't remember the time he gave me a medical picture book (I was about 8) because he noticed I loved to read, or the big family get-togethers, or even that he drew me some Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse replicas a few years ago. But when we sang to him, he would wink at us. And the last time we visited, he kissed my little Gwendolyn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My Grandma said that there wasn't a thing that Grandpa wanted to do in his life that he didn't do. He is an inspiration to me. And I can't wait to tell him that when we meet again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6917863149121698060?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6917863149121698060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6917863149121698060' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6917863149121698060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6917863149121698060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/05/grandpa.html' title='Grandpa'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mUApfxZnUsY/Td6qCYQZMiI/AAAAAAAAAjU/YeBDX0w3h5k/s72-c/grandma%2Band%2Bpa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6261276467672217961</id><published>2011-05-06T11:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T11:48:49.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Joker</title><content type='html'>Our family still has one car, and Dan takes it to work every day. I needed to go to the store this morning, so I put the kids in the double stroller and walked there. I tried to go early so it wouldn't be so hot, but come on, this is Arizona. When we got home I needed to take a shower. So I did. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Guess which of my little hooligans got into my liquid eyeliner while I was showering? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;That's right, this little Joker. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4rUM04kZPo/TcRBtnB8TyI/AAAAAAAAAjM/R2Vkri7lh9o/s1600/photo%2B%25288%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4rUM04kZPo/TcRBtnB8TyI/AAAAAAAAAjM/R2Vkri7lh9o/s320/photo%2B%25288%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603676088182787874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Don't worry, she got a bath right after her photo shoot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6261276467672217961?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6261276467672217961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6261276467672217961' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6261276467672217961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6261276467672217961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/05/little-joker.html' title='Little Joker'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t4rUM04kZPo/TcRBtnB8TyI/AAAAAAAAAjM/R2Vkri7lh9o/s72-c/photo%2B%25288%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7744056014534779182</id><published>2011-05-02T22:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T23:19:39.379-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Week</title><content type='html'>Last week I went from being a mom of two to a mom of six, but only for a few days. I was busier than usual and I woke up earlier than I have in years, but it was a pleasure watching my nephew and nieces while their mom was away. They are all really sweet kids. And they were only late to school once. (Tallia inexplicably lost a shoe and didn't have any spares.) They were only a minute late, so I think I did pretty well, considering. I probably messed up some of their homework stuff, but I sure tried. I even baked a pie with Averey for extra credit (pioneer unit). And I got artsy with their paper bags when I made the lunches. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One great thing that came with watching the Footes was the use of a car. We have been a one car family for many months now, and at times it kinda cramps my style. I haven't been going absolutely bonkers or anything, but it was nice to have a car. And the van was much easier to drive than I would have thought. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another great thing was having built-in babysitters. Dan and I went on an actual date. Outside of the house. It has been a while. We went to see &lt;i&gt;The King's Speech&lt;/i&gt; which was an amazing movie. I absolutely loved it. Colin Firth and Helena Bonham Carter were both fantastic. It might be the most impressive performance I have ever seen either of them give. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the theater that we went to was AWESOME. An old building... heavy on the neon and the life-size figures of movie characters, both 2D and 3D. I don't even know where they would find 3D figures of Klingons and Spiderman and Jack Sparrow. But they've got 'em. All squished in to one little area. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LhZcJO-vg3s/Tb-a_I4o8gI/AAAAAAAAAi0/Ws23wMtwE-Y/s1600/photo%2B%25281%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LhZcJO-vg3s/Tb-a_I4o8gI/AAAAAAAAAi0/Ws23wMtwE-Y/s320/photo%2B%25281%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602366870979670530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;See that chandelier? This place is super classy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TOlTXIzGbmg/Tb-a_ja31TI/AAAAAAAAAjE/LJ73LHkKvlM/s1600/photo%2B%25284%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TOlTXIzGbmg/Tb-a_ja31TI/AAAAAAAAAjE/LJ73LHkKvlM/s320/photo%2B%25284%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602366878102574386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ffC_181dhTU/Tb-a_dLZtfI/AAAAAAAAAi8/DVb7dwVkAg0/s1600/photo%2B%25282%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ffC_181dhTU/Tb-a_dLZtfI/AAAAAAAAAi8/DVb7dwVkAg0/s320/photo%2B%25282%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602366876427073010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;P.S. The movie cost six dollars. Total. Cheapest date ever. And we could hear the projector as the movie ran. It was awesome. I guess we appreciate old-school ghetto-type stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7744056014534779182?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7744056014534779182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7744056014534779182' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7744056014534779182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7744056014534779182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/05/last-week.html' title='Last Week'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LhZcJO-vg3s/Tb-a_I4o8gI/AAAAAAAAAi0/Ws23wMtwE-Y/s72-c/photo%2B%25281%2529.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8281369978864052147</id><published>2011-04-21T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T13:09:12.261-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Out of the Woods</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z8gqYaVGtrg/TbBiQaNaiaI/AAAAAAAAAis/h1BSmtZOweI/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-04-21%2Bat%2B9.57.53%2BAM.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z8gqYaVGtrg/TbBiQaNaiaI/AAAAAAAAAis/h1BSmtZOweI/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-04-21%2Bat%2B9.57.53%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598082370874542498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The show is done. My legs are very bruised and scraped and I feel like I was hit by a truck. Our last performance was on Monday morning to a group of 700 school children. We only performed the first act. Afterward there was a Q &amp;amp; A and the only question that was asked of me specifically was "how did you make yourself look pregnant?" Other kids wanted to know how makeup changes happened so quickly and why Cinderella was so pretty (awww...) and was it fun for the Baker to stab the wolf. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That was the hardest role I have ever played. By far. And this particular production had many crazy things happening behind the scenes that made it even harder on me. I don't think I ever want to play the Baker's Wife again. But I still would love to play any other role in some other production of &lt;i&gt;Into the Woods&lt;/i&gt; sometime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*******************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a dream last night that I got to play Christine Daae in Copperstar's production of The Phantom of the Opera. I was so happy to play a role I have wanted all my life, but they kept changing cast members in the middle of the production and nobody knew what was going on, and they cut the Phantom of the Opera song from the show, and at the end of the first act I looked up and the phantom was being played by an un-costumed woman with a script in her hand. I quit at intermission. Nobody seemed to care, and my friend Anna (who was watching the show and has an amazing voice in real life) stepped in to do my part. I was seething mad, and everything seemed so unfair. And then I woke up.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8281369978864052147?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8281369978864052147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8281369978864052147' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8281369978864052147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8281369978864052147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/04/out-of-woods.html' title='Out of the Woods'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z8gqYaVGtrg/TbBiQaNaiaI/AAAAAAAAAis/h1BSmtZOweI/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-04-21%2Bat%2B9.57.53%2BAM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5215799731221023248</id><published>2011-04-11T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T11:59:09.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning Story... from two days ago</title><content type='html'>She awoke to the boy's excited voice. "Mom! Dad! It's raining! Should we go downstairs and watch the flowers grow?" Neither Mom nor Dad moved for a few minutes, so he continued his happy exclamations and expectant questions, running from one side of bed to the other. Mom caved first and began to rise. The boy was ecstatic as he took her hand. They could hear the baby singing quiet nonsense from her room, and they made a detour to collect her. Little Dolly was happy to see her mother and brother, and she joyously held out the hand that was not holding tight to her pink silky blanket.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sleep still clung to Mom, but she slowly plunked down the stairs and to the back sliding glass door where the boy had run. He pulled the sheer curtains aside and Mom sat down with the baby and her blanket. They all took a quiet moment to look out at the soggy weed-choked back yard. Mom loved the rain, even more so now that they lived in the desert. "Look Mom," said the boy. "The rain is making bubbles." She supposed the water dropping into puddles did look bubbly. The baby settled down further into Mom's lap. "Should we hear it?" inquired the boy. Mom smiled and nodded. When the boy opened the sliding glass door a wash of cold air confronted them, and the musical cadence of the dripping became louder and more beautiful.       &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later there would be bottles and breakfast and diapers and books. Little Dolly would give up her blanket until nap time and she would do that silly walk on her knees. Brother would play little games with rocks and sticks and cars and hats. But for now, they all sat and enjoyed one another's presence and the miracle of rain falling from God's great heaven.     &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/1026989841244594740-5215799731221023248?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5215799731221023248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5215799731221023248' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5215799731221023248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5215799731221023248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/04/morning-story-from-two-days-ago.html' title='Morning Story... from two days ago'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4537545953038479262</id><published>2011-03-30T11:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T12:16:33.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Do you know what you wish? Are you certain what you wish is what you want?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh Stephen Sondheim. What a crazy genius you are. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I have always wanted to do Into the Woods. I actually have a "theater bucket list" of shows I want to be in before I die. I have listed parts that I would like to play in those shows, if applicable. Some shows (like "The Phantom of the Opera") I would take ANY role just to be a part of it. But Into the Woods I actually have a preference. My favorite role is Little Red Riding Hood. Of course I'm too old and tall to play her, so my next favorite is the witch, followed closely by Cinderella. And I always thought it would be fun to play a step sister. You know who I never really wanted to be? The Baker's Wife. She has a lot to do, and she has to kiss two different guys, and she is not very quirky or glamorous. She has some funny lines, but I always thought her songs were boring. Well, I finally got a chance to audition for Into the Woods, and guess what character I got. That's right. The Baker's Wife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She is the female lead, and that is flattering, but becoming the Baker's Wife is the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. First of all, the songs are hard. Like, change keys five times per song- switch time signatures eight times per song- constant shift in melody- fast- wordy- can't keep up or remember anything HARD. And there are those on stage kisses. I don't relate to the character very well. And I have to be funny, which doesn't come naturally to me. And I feel like a LOT of people are leaning on me for their blocking and lyrics and stuff. We open in a week and a half. I'm a little worried. Actually, I'm a lot worried. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm starting to enjoy my part more though, so I guess that is good. And I think our cast is amazing. We just found out that we are having canned music instead of a live orchestra which makes me a little bit scared and sad, but nothing is ever perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What's funny is that this is the first time I get to check a show off of my theater bucket list. I can't really choose what shows are available around me. I'm at the mercy of my family's location and schedules and the whims of directors. So you would expect this to be a joyous occasion. It was supposed to be so amazing. But it has mostly been stressful. Regardless, I'm still glad I'm in the show. If I hadn't done it, I would be sad. And really, it is SUCH a good show. I'm just a little torn about promoting it to the people that I know around here. If I were any other character, I would be all over it. But do I really want to tell my little nieces and nephews and students and neighbors and fellow church goers to see me in something where I have an on stage make out with someone? Wouldn't that freak them out, or would they be able to get past that? You see my predicament. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;"Careful the wish you make... wishes come true."         &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4537545953038479262?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4537545953038479262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4537545953038479262' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4537545953038479262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4537545953038479262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-wish.html' title='I wish...'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1441048164226712395</id><published>2011-03-16T14:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T15:43:50.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thick and Thin rant</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Why is it that everything that makes me happy also makes me fat? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Below is a picture of me in High School. Well, technically, it is a picture of a picture. There I am with my friend Jennie. I'm on the left. I suppose I am wearing a tankini and short shorts because we were at Magic Mountain and we went on water rides. I know I look a little trailer-parkish, but look at how skinny I am!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dL_epLtc9A/TYEveRfybVI/AAAAAAAAAik/a9KvyzbJBMc/s1600/IMG_6783.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dL_epLtc9A/TYEveRfybVI/AAAAAAAAAik/a9KvyzbJBMc/s320/IMG_6783.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584797210055437650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...except for my arms of course. I've always had meaty upper arms. I blame it on the year of gymnastics I took in fourth grade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I looked like that for years. I went on every diet I heard of to keep myself looking good. I also made sure I was active. Running, dancing, Tae Bo-ing. I was always trying, and it always paid off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This next shot is of me in a play right before I got pregnant with number one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OwZnNYhxQrI/TYEveLXCUFI/AAAAAAAAAic/JLzGZUIyRIU/s1600/39582975_img_5397.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OwZnNYhxQrI/TYEveLXCUFI/AAAAAAAAAic/JLzGZUIyRIU/s320/39582975_img_5397.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584797208408117330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Again... I feel like I look good here. And maybe you have to click on the images to really tell, I don't know. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Those were the good old days. Now I am about twenty pounds heavier, and two kids richer. My kids make me so happy. They also made me fat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Having kids has been hard on my body. I have to literally starve myself if I want to lose weight. And starving makes me very sad. Not to mention short tempered and basically useless. Working out like a crazy person doesn't do it for me anymore, I have to eat like a hibernating bear without the benefit of being able to sleep for months at a time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You know what makes me happy? Bread and other normal foods.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You know what makes me fat? Bread and other normal foods. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I don't drink soda. I don't drink alcohol. I don't drink juice. I don't eat a ton of candy or sweets and I don't eat chips or lots of processed foods. I like salad. I like soup. I like sandwiches and green beans and cereal and the occasional bowl of ice-cream.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Why is it that I know people who never work out but look fantastic? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Why is it that I know people who eat candy and junk for every meal and they are WAY skinnier than me? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know the answer to these questions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is because life is not fair.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; I&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1441048164226712395?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1441048164226712395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1441048164226712395' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1441048164226712395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1441048164226712395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/03/blog-post.html' title='The Thick and Thin rant'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--dL_epLtc9A/TYEveRfybVI/AAAAAAAAAik/a9KvyzbJBMc/s72-c/IMG_6783.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4320750731718597391</id><published>2011-03-12T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-12T20:18:20.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Postcards from the Moon</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I received a wonderful package in the mail yesterday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was from a certain Bill Steinkellner in Santa Barbara. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;For those who don't know, the Steinkellners are a powerhouse of awesomeness. Bill and his wife Cheri are Emmy winning writers, and they have three talented children. I was privileged to get to know Teddy Steinkellner a few years ago while I was teaching theater at Dos Pueblos High School. He is a fabulous actor, a talented improviser with great comedic timing, an all-around good person, and he is smart as a whip. He was valedictorian. I have also worked with the youngest Steinkellner, Emma. She is an amazing performer, and I would not be shocked to see her on Broadway soon after she graduates high school. Emma also has unbelievable art skills. Kit, the eldest Steinkellner, takes after her parents and has already accomplished a lot with her writing. And they are all down-to-earth and they love each other. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Are you jealous of them yet?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well I haven't even listed half of their accomplishments or how cool they are. I really look up to Bill and Cheri. They have amazing artistic sensibilities and they support their kids in every way. They inspire me.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ALRQNVbtl8c/TXvG32y-zZI/AAAAAAAAAiU/pEEwMQ1IwuQ/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-12%2Bat%2B12.16.12%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 170px; height: 258px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ALRQNVbtl8c/TXvG32y-zZI/AAAAAAAAAiU/pEEwMQ1IwuQ/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-12%2Bat%2B12.16.12%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583274825960312210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So you can imagine how happy I was to receive this signed book. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is filled with little pictures and short stories that could fit on the back of a postcard. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;These stories inspire me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sometimes the stories remind me of something I did when I was a little girl traveling in the car with my parents. I would look out the window and see a person driving and I would create a backstory of who that person was and what they were driving toward (or away from).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The postcard stories that Bill writes remind me of a time when I felt freer to dream and to look and to question. They invite me to wonder and to explore and to look at things in a slightly different way. I feel inspired to play with words and emotions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you want to know what I'm talking about, you can buy this book from Amazon, or you can visit Bill's blog. For some reason the link on my page is listed as "Don'ts for Husbands," though his blog is called "Greetings from Bill." I'll try to fix that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Maybe I should have titled this post "A Love Letter to the Steinkellners." Sorry to gush, but they really are a cool family. But I kinda hope they don't read this. Because that might be embarrassing.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4320750731718597391?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4320750731718597391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4320750731718597391' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4320750731718597391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4320750731718597391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/03/postcards-from-moon.html' title='Postcards from the Moon'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ALRQNVbtl8c/TXvG32y-zZI/AAAAAAAAAiU/pEEwMQ1IwuQ/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-12%2Bat%2B12.16.12%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8036800269772671515</id><published>2011-03-04T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T13:16:08.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>That girl...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, Gwendolyn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WA_xHg-obvE/TXFVL7N-q4I/AAAAAAAAAiM/INxdF_7d3co/s1600/1200527280__dan8762.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WA_xHg-obvE/TXFVL7N-q4I/AAAAAAAAAiM/INxdF_7d3co/s320/1200527280__dan8762.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580335076652002178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She's still all gums, but now I can feel a few teeth coming on top so it shouldn't be long. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She started doing this funny thing a few days ago where she walks on her knees. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When I put on her clothes I count "One, two..." and she says "TEE!" with a big smile.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today at Nancy's house she began to stand up by herself in the middle of the floor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Also at Nancy's house a flowerpot almost fell on her head and for the first time in her life, I saw her trying to hold back tears. You know, that little quivering frown accompanied by the saddest hurt eyes you've ever seen? Well she usually just erupts at everything, but today I saw that look. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I feel like Gwen is finally leaving babyhood. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'm a little bit sad, but I'm excited and proud too.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8036800269772671515?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8036800269772671515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8036800269772671515' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8036800269772671515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8036800269772671515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/03/that-girl.html' title='That girl...'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WA_xHg-obvE/TXFVL7N-q4I/AAAAAAAAAiM/INxdF_7d3co/s72-c/1200527280__dan8762.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-552589687872326446</id><published>2011-03-01T11:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T17:48:41.478-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Book Review Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I only update my blog a few times a month, and I really need to give my blog stalkers something to read. Since I can't commit to blogging more often, I'll just recommend some awesome books. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I finished reading two books recently, but I can't mention one of these without mentioning its predecessor. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k3-_hRErUY4/TW1JBO_oQzI/AAAAAAAAAiE/qNxrC6blm-I/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.25.29%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 198px; height: 286px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k3-_hRErUY4/TW1JBO_oQzI/AAAAAAAAAiE/qNxrC6blm-I/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.25.29%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579195798935585586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I read &lt;i&gt;These is my Words &lt;/i&gt;about a year ago, and it has become one of my favorite books of all time. It is an adventure, a love story, and a coming of age novel all rolled into one. Historical fiction isn't always my favorite, and the fact that it was in diary form turned me off at first, but it was so worth the bargain. This book had a lot of heart. It was almost like poetry, and yet it felt so real and matter-of-fact. I have read it and re-read it. The end always makes me cry like a baby. Side note: If I could chose one role to play in a movie, it would be Sarah. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-abO6-Wn1Z3E/TW1JAif9sHI/AAAAAAAAAh8/9V4aJrpf-5k/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.26.14%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-abO6-Wn1Z3E/TW1JAif9sHI/AAAAAAAAAh8/9V4aJrpf-5k/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.26.14%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579195786991612018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is the sequel to &lt;i&gt;These is my Words, &lt;/i&gt;picking up with Sarah about 10 years after the last book ends. I put off reading this because I was afraid &lt;i&gt;Sarah's Quilt&lt;/i&gt; would somehow mar the original story for me. And to be honest, there were parts of this story I didn't like. (I don't want to go into detail in case anybody is planning on reading these books.) However, it was a good read, and I am glad I decided to go for it. But let it be known that I would take &lt;i&gt;These is my Words&lt;/i&gt; over &lt;i&gt;Sarah's Quilt&lt;/i&gt; any day of the week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--idDtOByZ94/TW1JAURoaHI/AAAAAAAAAh0/hruuPOznpBY/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.27.12%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--idDtOByZ94/TW1JAURoaHI/AAAAAAAAAh0/hruuPOznpBY/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.27.12%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579195783173400690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This author usually writes screenplays for movies. Her book seams like it is targeting a younger crowd, but I don't mind the "Young Adult Fiction" genre. I mean, I loved the Hunger Games trilogy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Girl Who Could Fly&lt;/i&gt; is sweet and creative. I enjoyed it very much and I can't wait until my kids are old enough to appreciate it. I love reading stories aloud, and this is perfect. I totally recommend it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you have read any of these novels, let me know what you thought. If you haven't read them, hop to it! They are good books!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-552589687872326446?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/552589687872326446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=552589687872326446' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/552589687872326446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/552589687872326446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/03/book-review-time.html' title='Book Review Time'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k3-_hRErUY4/TW1JBO_oQzI/AAAAAAAAAiE/qNxrC6blm-I/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-03-01%2Bat%2B12.25.29%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4380303036234407498</id><published>2011-02-19T09:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-19T10:23:20.770-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Openin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Music Man&lt;/span&gt; opened last night at the HCPA. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am a "teen dancer" in the show. (Ha!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...Except in the big group numbers when I have a husband and 3 children.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of my "children" just turned four. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;You may want to come &lt;i&gt;just&lt;/i&gt; to see her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She is very cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFfxoyVZZHs/TWAGiDjGfLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/14sCv-kMRmY/s1600/IMG_7338.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFfxoyVZZHs/TWAGiDjGfLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/14sCv-kMRmY/s320/IMG_7338.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5575463520822525106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She also threw up all over the dressing room two days ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Last night, no less than six cast members got sick during the performance. Thankfully they made it outside before tossing any cookies. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Some of the kids went home in the middle of the show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Please pray that I don't become ill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And if you come to the show, don't shake hands with any of the cast members.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One more thing. I have an un-official fan club now. I always have kids (and some adults) around me, watching me draw in my book, reading things I've written, asking me about my life, etc. It is a rotating membership, so it's not always the same people surrounding me, but a few of them have admitted to "blog stalking" me. And some of them might &lt;i&gt;actually&lt;/i&gt; be stalking me. But one of the coolest members of the un-official Jamie Hixon fan club wants a shout out. So, without further ado: You are awesome Lindsey Goff! Don't ever change. Well, change your clothes and your underwear and everything but, well, you know what I mean. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4380303036234407498?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4380303036234407498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4380303036234407498' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4380303036234407498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4380303036234407498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/02/another-openin.html' title='Another Openin&apos;'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YFfxoyVZZHs/TWAGiDjGfLI/AAAAAAAAAhs/14sCv-kMRmY/s72-c/IMG_7338.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5442864030696389202</id><published>2011-02-17T12:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T15:14:48.341-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La Jour de L'amour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ok, so we celebrated the holiday over a few days, but still, this is my Valentine's Day post. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Somehow I had a very Twilight Valentines Day. It was so funny. I'm not exactly a Twi-hard, especially with the movies, but my husband gave me these in the morning...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Iu8io9XpoO0/TV2H5PLkSZI/AAAAAAAAAhk/NTuX--uQxG8/s1600/IMG_7292.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Iu8io9XpoO0/TV2H5PLkSZI/AAAAAAAAAhk/NTuX--uQxG8/s320/IMG_7292.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574761331151882642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;...which cracked me up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was nice to discover that the Sweethearts company hasn't bumped up the quality of their product since I was twelve. In fact, most of the Jacob flavored candies are blank or barely printed.  The Edward ones are sparkly, but kind of gross. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fYX_Kn97DWA/TV2H4zd7kJI/AAAAAAAAAhc/8eQzILq6F2s/s1600/IMG_7294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fYX_Kn97DWA/TV2H4zd7kJI/AAAAAAAAAhc/8eQzILq6F2s/s320/IMG_7294.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574761323712712850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And then my friend Erin came by and gave me this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfT_AhpsIkw/TV2H4VtcRbI/AAAAAAAAAhM/gtcqFPp2cYQ/s1600/IMG_7295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lfT_AhpsIkw/TV2H4VtcRbI/AAAAAAAAAhM/gtcqFPp2cYQ/s320/IMG_7295.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574761315724707250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I still don't really know what a "sky bar" is since Asher ate it. Well, I had a nibble. I think there is peanut butter involved. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The funny thing is that she used a Valentine that she found out in the blog world, and that Valentine happened to be created by my friend &lt;a href="http://www.ambrosiagirl.com/blog/twilight-valentines-free/"&gt;Jen&lt;/a&gt;. Small world. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I gave Dan cupcakes (I unfortunately ate quite a few of them, but I maintained my weight regardless) and yesterday I gave him this present:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zom_k3xj17c/TV2H317YZII/AAAAAAAAAhE/-UjS2p_E_a4/s1600/IMG_7340.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zom_k3xj17c/TV2H317YZII/AAAAAAAAAhE/-UjS2p_E_a4/s320/IMG_7340.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574761307193238658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On the other side of the card it said "Dan, you make my heart RACE"- so he totally knew what it was before he opened it up. But you probably don't, so I'll tell you. It was the blu-ray edition of Speed Racer. For some reason we both really love this movie. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I'll leave you with a picture of my littlest Valentines playing on my V-day gift from last year, our wonderful piano. I still really love it and use it often. In fact, I just gave a piano lesson on it. Want to know what is happening in this shot? Asher is plunking out notes and singing the Backyardigans theme song at the top of his lungs. Gwen is twisting her tongue and trying to help him out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JYbWV6p0JYg/TV2H4kYmOpI/AAAAAAAAAhU/xUKxm0Ds_XU/s1600/IMG_7326.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JYbWV6p0JYg/TV2H4kYmOpI/AAAAAAAAAhU/xUKxm0Ds_XU/s320/IMG_7326.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574761319663811218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Side Note: You know how some cameras frame people's faces while you are taking the picture so that it doesn't get the focus wrong? Well, when I was taking pictures of my Sweethearts candies the camera only recognized Jacob's box had a face on it. ahahhhaha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5442864030696389202?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5442864030696389202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5442864030696389202' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5442864030696389202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5442864030696389202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/02/la-jour-de-lamour.html' title='La Jour de L&apos;amour'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Iu8io9XpoO0/TV2H5PLkSZI/AAAAAAAAAhk/NTuX--uQxG8/s72-c/IMG_7292.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5541091151698927943</id><published>2011-02-07T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T15:39:50.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>P.S.</title><content type='html'>Asher is supposed to nap. Asher is supposed to go potty on the toilet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TVCCV7cLwiI/AAAAAAAAAg8/lkuvHZzbwI0/s1600/1177464970__dan8533picked.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TVCCV7cLwiI/AAAAAAAAAg8/lkuvHZzbwI0/s320/1177464970__dan8533picked.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571096052302070306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asher neither naps NOR goes potty on the toilet. He spends his nap time creating rainbows with the underwear he SHOULD be wearing by now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5541091151698927943?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5541091151698927943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5541091151698927943' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5541091151698927943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5541091151698927943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/02/ps.html' title='P.S.'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TVCCV7cLwiI/AAAAAAAAAg8/lkuvHZzbwI0/s72-c/1177464970__dan8533picked.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-308340830786655157</id><published>2011-02-04T10:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T10:23:48.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Boy the Artist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our house is usually a mess, but it is a fun mess.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAfRxaGEI/AAAAAAAAAgU/3-sU7Bm6vlQ/s1600/IMG_6908.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAfRxaGEI/AAAAAAAAAgU/3-sU7Bm6vlQ/s320/IMG_6908.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569897745241217090" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Asher enjoys both playing with his toys and &lt;i&gt;placing &lt;/i&gt;his toys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAeziarDI/AAAAAAAAAgM/OrN2xi0jZkw/s1600/IMG_6905.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAeziarDI/AAAAAAAAAgM/OrN2xi0jZkw/s320/IMG_6905.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569897737125276722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sometimes he even drags furniture around to complete his vision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAeT6LQaI/AAAAAAAAAgE/fGoBx6KEsEY/s1600/IMG_6653.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAeT6LQaI/AAAAAAAAAgE/fGoBx6KEsEY/s320/IMG_6653.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569897728634995106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He is always thinking of new uses for toys and found objects. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAeJ9tyDI/AAAAAAAAAf8/kZnstZnPrcg/s1600/IMG_6643.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAeJ9tyDI/AAAAAAAAAf8/kZnstZnPrcg/s320/IMG_6643.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569897725965486130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;For instance, he raided the pantry to create this "piano."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCJ11oFYI/AAAAAAAAAg0/DoGy65bxjUY/s1600/IMG_7162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCJ11oFYI/AAAAAAAAAg0/DoGy65bxjUY/s320/IMG_7162.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569899575988721026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes he leaves surprises like this. He likes to match things up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCJW_ElPI/AAAAAAAAAgs/0JqqOz5Z9Zk/s1600/IMG_7024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCJW_ElPI/AAAAAAAAAgs/0JqqOz5Z9Zk/s320/IMG_7024.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569899567706838258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And a few months back, he learned how to draw some pretty awesome monsters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCJEmnGUI/AAAAAAAAAgk/5rYRaTiFxhg/s1600/IMG_7212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCJEmnGUI/AAAAAAAAAgk/5rYRaTiFxhg/s320/IMG_7212.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569899562772404546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He even gets into it with his food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCI7xV9hI/AAAAAAAAAgc/sX81fb5Pk3k/s1600/IMG_7206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxCI7xV9hI/AAAAAAAAAgc/sX81fb5Pk3k/s320/IMG_7206.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569899560401499666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  ;font-family:Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;font-size:20px;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'times new roman';"&gt;"Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up." - Pablo Picasso&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/1026989841244594740-308340830786655157?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/308340830786655157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=308340830786655157' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/308340830786655157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/308340830786655157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/02/my-boy-artist.html' title='My Boy the Artist'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TUxAfRxaGEI/AAAAAAAAAgU/3-sU7Bm6vlQ/s72-c/IMG_6908.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-985316953993518474</id><published>2011-01-11T09:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T16:10:31.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Polar Opposites (ok not literally)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Before I forget, I want to write about our December travels. Dan and I were privileged to visit sunny Hawaii and snowy Utah. Both locations were beautiful in their own ways. In one place we were with Dan's family and in the other we were with mine. What a lucky way to spend the most wonderful time of the year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A few weeks ago I mentioned how much I loved the Hawaiian atmosphere, but we didn't just sit on the beach all day and night. (I should mention that the 7 Hixons who came shared a "villa" which was basically a small 3 bedroom house with a kitchen and one bathroom. The back yard was the beach. The only hard part was the people-to-bathroom ratio.) We went to BYU Hawaii and saw a choir and orchestra concert which was just phenomenal. I love good music. We went to church and I saw my first skateboard rack where a bike rack would normally be. We went grocery shopping (and acted like children in the aisles) and visited Heather's family's hotel at Turtle Bay. My sister-in-law Amy and I worked out on the beach and I got a pedicure with Heather, compliments of her sweet mother. Then of course, there was the wedding day...   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYOVxfJ5I/AAAAAAAAAfo/lCNEm6rtRW4/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.44.09%2BPM.png" style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 209px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560987012026017682" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYOJTBSRI/AAAAAAAAAfg/c69uMgXLR9k/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.45.12%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYOJTBSRI/AAAAAAAAAfg/c69uMgXLR9k/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.45.12%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560987008677005586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan took some amazing pictures of the beautiful bride and groom after the ceremony. We ate at a restaurant on the beach. I kinda wish I had ordered the butterfish, because I tried some off of someone's plate... and it was good! I normally don't like fish at all. I ordered the Mahi Mahi because people always say that is the least "fishy" fish. Note to future self: That is hogwash. Butterfish is the way to go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We visited the Polynesian Cultural Center at some point. Our "villa" was across the street from the PCC, but we had a bunch of non-walkers in our party so we drove there. I thought it was a little silly, but I'm not the one with MS or bad knees. We were almost going to have to pay $8 for parking, but because my in-laws were wearing their missionary badges, they got to park for free. In fact, we got all kinds of discounts and free things because of them. And because of Amy. You know, with her magical discount powers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;When we were headed out we took the long way to the airport so we could see more of the Island. We drove by Pipeline, and we got some shaved ice from Matsumotos. Surprisingly, I think I was the only one that absolutely loved mine. We drove by the dole plantation, I had forgotten how huge it was. We dropped our rental car off, and then we went home. Amy figured out how to not pay for her humongous bag. Leave it to her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Interestingly, all of the things I did in Hawaii I had done before. Of course it was about 10 years ago, but it was the same time of year and everything. I think I loved it all more the second time around. I would love to live there for a year.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Next up, my parent's new home in Mapleton Utah! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYNXCdPKI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/yDIQcS9gJ8o/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.52.54%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYNXCdPKI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/yDIQcS9gJ8o/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.52.54%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560986995185761442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We drove through the night and got there the morning after Christmas. We had a few scares on the road (Our headlights started turning off randomly at the darkest part of Hoover Dam and Dan drove off a rocky hill while trying to switch freeways), but we somehow emerged unscathed. We went to church and visited with the family. The cousins played and had a ball. Asher was never bored and was often tired. Some of us went to Ikea together, but that was about the only "venturing out" we did. It was snowy and cold. I loved it! Dan and Asher made a snowman that is apparently still standing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYNzS8KQI/AAAAAAAAAfY/Y5kHDfcikD0/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.54.15%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYNzS8KQI/AAAAAAAAAfY/Y5kHDfcikD0/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.54.15%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560987002771089666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We got to have some sister time, and the boys went off and had some man time. It was really awesome to be together. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ7quCN0I/AAAAAAAAAfI/2akcQ8neJU8/s1600/1142931125__dan5320.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ7quCN0I/AAAAAAAAAfI/2akcQ8neJU8/s320/1142931125__dan5320.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560978994649773890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ7DatfvI/AAAAAAAAAfA/ZapOgpWkFWw/s1600/1142936087__dan5258.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ7DatfvI/AAAAAAAAAfA/ZapOgpWkFWw/s320/1142936087__dan5258.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560978984099741426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ6hfZ7TI/AAAAAAAAAe4/Os0Cxcz0g9Y/s1600/1142944108__dan5223.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ6hfZ7TI/AAAAAAAAAe4/Os0Cxcz0g9Y/s320/1142944108__dan5223.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560978974992624946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;One last picture: this is from New Years. It was legal to light fireworks in Arizona this year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ5_xGPrI/AAAAAAAAAew/v1lR087E_AI/s1600/1144871886__dan5792.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyQ5_xGPrI/AAAAAAAAAew/v1lR087E_AI/s320/1144871886__dan5792.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560978965940027058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-985316953993518474?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/985316953993518474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=985316953993518474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/985316953993518474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/985316953993518474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/01/polar-opposites-ok-not-literally.html' title='Polar Opposites (ok not literally)'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSyYOVxfJ5I/AAAAAAAAAfo/lCNEm6rtRW4/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2011-01-10%2Bat%2B10.44.09%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3531605742448363628</id><published>2011-01-05T23:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T08:22:08.159-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year and Anniversary</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Just for the record, we went to the Hixon family New Year bash. It was epic, as usual. There were a lot of people there. Our kids both took long afternoon naps and stayed up til about 1:00am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Stephen and Rachel are still my heroes for hosting this crazy shindig. If you want to hear more about the party, you can read all about it at &lt;a href="http://mystackofplates.blogspot.com/2011/01/goodbye-2010.html"&gt;Rachel's blog&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, Dan and I just celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary. NINTH!!! Seriously, that is a lot of years. We are almost to a major milestone here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our actual anniversary I tossed Dan a blu ray of Sherlock Holmes that I bought at Costco and said "Happy Anniversary!" I bought myself some chocolates. We sat in bed after putting our kids to sleep and took turns sharing memories of the last nine years. The next night we tried to go to the Olive Garden because we had a gift certificate there, but there was a wait. On Tuesday. Yeah, the employees didn't know why either. So we went next door to a Mexican place that wasn't bad, but we probably won't visit again. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSVr0WzQNHI/AAAAAAAAAeo/-FzU4fyjjX8/s1600/_DAN3728.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSVr0WzQNHI/AAAAAAAAAeo/-FzU4fyjjX8/s320/_DAN3728.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558967862276666482" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In other news, we didn't get around to sending Christmas cards this year. Maybe because this shot is the best we could do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3531605742448363628?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3531605742448363628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3531605742448363628' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3531605742448363628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3531605742448363628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-year-and-anniversary.html' title='New Year and Anniversary'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TSVr0WzQNHI/AAAAAAAAAeo/-FzU4fyjjX8/s72-c/_DAN3728.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6039551229400603410</id><published>2011-01-01T10:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T14:58:15.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's crafty...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy New Year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I know I should be talking about resolutions or goals or something, but I don't feel like it. Plus, I made a lot of stuff last month. I was so busy making things for others, that I didn't have time to blog. Now that we are back from vacation in snowy Utah, I have time... so get ready for a lot of pictures.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I made t-shirts for my nephews. I asked their Dad what they liked right now, and he told me they were into the movie Megamind, which I haven't seen. But I looked it up, printed images from the internet, bought cheap Hanes shirts, dyed them, and freezer paper stenciled. This is shirt #1:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR97NhuQw9I/AAAAAAAAAeI/qgcCJy3CAAg/s1600/IMG_7242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR97NhuQw9I/AAAAAAAAAeI/qgcCJy3CAAg/s320/IMG_7242.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295937519403986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Shirt #2 (which was actually an H&amp;amp;M shirt):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR97NWjgJpI/AAAAAAAAAeA/DhoDGBz6nj4/s1600/IMG_7243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR97NWjgJpI/AAAAAAAAAeA/DhoDGBz6nj4/s320/IMG_7243.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295934521484946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Shirt #3 (which required a bit of fabric paint layering. I'm tricky.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I wish I had a bit of red paint... it would make the Obama reference more noticeable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR9656SqayI/AAAAAAAAAd4/_gywzYc939Y/s1600/IMG_7244.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR9656SqayI/AAAAAAAAAd4/_gywzYc939Y/s320/IMG_7244.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295600517147426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Here is a shirt I made for my brother. I didn't make the money tissue. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR965Z9Wb9I/AAAAAAAAAdw/Qx7f_gZMies/s1600/IMG_7245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR965Z9Wb9I/AAAAAAAAAdw/Qx7f_gZMies/s320/IMG_7245.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295591837822930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;A headband for my niece. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR965BxcIBI/AAAAAAAAAdo/EzPp8Yog9yg/s1600/IMG_7247.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR965BxcIBI/AAAAAAAAAdo/EzPp8Yog9yg/s320/IMG_7247.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295585345413138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I finally got around to painting these letters. All the other girls in my family did this like two Christmases ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR9641wRTsI/AAAAAAAAAdg/oo1UJa68CmA/s1600/IMG_7250.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR9641wRTsI/AAAAAAAAAdg/oo1UJa68CmA/s320/IMG_7250.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295582119284418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My parents just moved to Mapleton, Utah after living in Santa Barbara for 25 years. I painted the LA temple for them. I used oil paint, and it still hasn't completely dried. I'm doing the same thing for my in-laws but I don't want to send it by mail... so it will have to be a late holiday gift. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR964ZVsOcI/AAAAAAAAAdY/6Fm0rrM7GhM/s1600/IMG_7264.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR964ZVsOcI/AAAAAAAAAdY/6Fm0rrM7GhM/s320/IMG_7264.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557295574491609538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am also painting the Mesa Temple for Mike and Marilee. It is... not done. Oops. This is a picture of the process.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR-ux-3XgCI/AAAAAAAAAeg/Mx-Y9-TaeBY/s1600/IMG_7255.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR-ux-3XgCI/AAAAAAAAAeg/Mx-Y9-TaeBY/s320/IMG_7255.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557352638910529570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I also gave my brother and his wife a pretty rad cross-stitch. And yes, I think rad is the appropriate word. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR-uxqZl2aI/AAAAAAAAAeY/ZDtYvJwRRwU/s1600/_DAN5100.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR-uxqZl2aI/AAAAAAAAAeY/ZDtYvJwRRwU/s320/_DAN5100.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557352633416931746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I got the pattern for both my brother's shirt and this cross-stitch from a blog called The Domestic Scientist. So awesome!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR-uxc9AyRI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/GjBiY6GNYmk/s1600/_DAN5105.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR-uxc9AyRI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/GjBiY6GNYmk/s320/_DAN5105.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5557352629807401234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Whew! That's all folks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6039551229400603410?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6039551229400603410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6039551229400603410' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6039551229400603410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6039551229400603410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2011/01/shes-crafty.html' title='She&apos;s crafty...'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TR97NhuQw9I/AAAAAAAAAeI/qgcCJy3CAAg/s72-c/IMG_7242.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5654593242250813858</id><published>2010-12-23T00:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-23T12:32:52.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mele Kalikimaka</title><content type='html'>I have not been blogging very frequently. Oops. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;About a week ago Dan and I returned from Hawaii. Dan's little brother Jeff married &lt;a href="http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/08/feather.html"&gt;Heather&lt;/a&gt; (YAY!) in the Laie Hawaii temple, so that was a great excuse to go on vacation. We left the kids here with my mom for a few days. She was really really nice to come and watch them in the middle of her move from Santa Barbara California to Mapleton Utah. That is a big move, especially for someone who has spent the last 25 years in Santa Barbara. My mom is the best, hands down.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Apparently my children were little angels and Gwen took to Grandma like a fish takes to swimming. This made our vacation more enjoyable because we really didn't have to worry about a thing. Except that Dan was sick the whole time, poor guy. And he was the wedding photographer. But he wasn't as sick the day of the wedding, and it looked like he was having a good time taking pictures. I had a fabulous time being his assistant. Really, I wish I could go on all of his shoots with him. But usually I have kids to look after. Which I also enjoy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TRMKNO8fvkI/AAAAAAAAAdM/a0TeJ3W8xxY/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-12-23%2Bat%2B1.36.22%2BAM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 194px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TRMKNO8fvkI/AAAAAAAAAdM/a0TeJ3W8xxY/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-12-23%2Bat%2B1.36.22%2BAM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553793987944365634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dan took this pic with his iphone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I had an awakening in Hawaii. I will explain. Usually here in Arizona I loathe going outside. It is either too hot, too cold, too dusty, too dry, too bright or I am afraid of getting attacked by a scorpion or getting skin cancer or something. I stay indoors A LOT. I guess I just figured it was part of my personality now, but when we got to our little "villa" in Hawaii and walked out to the backyard, a.k.a. the beach, I did NOT want to leave. I couldn't stop rubbing the sand in my hands and my body was drinking in the air and I just didn't want to blink. I kept telling Dan "we should move here." I think I was suffering from nature deficit disorder and I didn't even know it. Every time I stepped in the sand or the soft grass I just wanted to scream "This is the best!!" I guess I got out a lot more in Santa Barbara, but still Hawaii is like Santa Barbara on steroids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you Jeff and Heather for getting married in Hawaii. Really.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/1026989841244594740-5654593242250813858?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5654593242250813858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5654593242250813858' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5654593242250813858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5654593242250813858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/12/mele-kalikimaka.html' title='Mele Kalikimaka'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TRMKNO8fvkI/AAAAAAAAAdM/a0TeJ3W8xxY/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-12-23%2Bat%2B1.36.22%2BAM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7603462643423079622</id><published>2010-12-02T14:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T15:13:02.311-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Man, Nice Shot</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgny_WpXGI/AAAAAAAAAdE/AQVMe0z2o0w/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-12-02%2Bat%2B4.10.49%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 210px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgny_WpXGI/AAAAAAAAAdE/AQVMe0z2o0w/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-12-02%2Bat%2B4.10.49%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546226698060127330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you live in Arizona and you want a REALLY good photographer, head on over to &lt;a href="http://shotbydan.com/"&gt;http://shotbydan.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgnCxw3LaI/AAAAAAAAAc8/bE5XXkPkl8g/s1600/861674009_img_6369.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgnCxw3LaI/AAAAAAAAAc8/bE5XXkPkl8g/s320/861674009_img_6369.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546225869778267554" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am super proud of my husband's artistry and talent. He is really good at the whole picture taking thing. And how many photographers can build their own website?&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://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgnCRM3C6I/AAAAAAAAAc0/h2YQumaGd04/s1600/306390210_tWxhe-L.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgnCRM3C6I/AAAAAAAAAc0/h2YQumaGd04/s320/306390210_tWxhe-L.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546225861037329314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Spread the word, we are finally officially sharing Dan's amazing picture-taking capabilities. And right now, he has some awesome deals going...  &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/1026989841244594740-7603462643423079622?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7603462643423079622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7603462643423079622' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7603462643423079622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7603462643423079622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/12/hey-man-nice-shot.html' title='Hey Man, Nice Shot'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPgny_WpXGI/AAAAAAAAAdE/AQVMe0z2o0w/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-12-02%2Bat%2B4.10.49%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8226836089475067953</id><published>2010-11-26T20:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T09:26:45.802-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just ordered!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Ok, I am not buying a lot for Christmas this year. But one of the things that I had to purchase for Asher is the following amazing and wondrous accessory.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Behold!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPCRMUVsz3I/AAAAAAAAAco/vIcMIVW0fME/s1600/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B9.57.24%2BPM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 308px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPCRMUVsz3I/AAAAAAAAAco/vIcMIVW0fME/s320/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B9.57.24%2BPM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544090782097264498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes, it is a top hat sized for children. Yes, it was about $20. Yes I am already in love with it and I can't wait for it to come in the mail. Does that answer all of your questions?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;If you want to fall in love with something yourself, follow this link: &lt;a href="http://www.zulily.com/invite/jhixon997"&gt;http://www.zulily.com/invite/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yes you have to join zulily to see the goods, but joining is free and they have such cute stuff at 1/2 price, who wouldn't want to join?? And there are things for moms too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thank you. That is all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8226836089475067953?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8226836089475067953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8226836089475067953' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8226836089475067953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8226836089475067953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/11/just-ordered.html' title='Just ordered!'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TPCRMUVsz3I/AAAAAAAAAco/vIcMIVW0fME/s72-c/Screen%2Bshot%2B2010-11-26%2Bat%2B9.57.24%2BPM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1307700310050555836</id><published>2010-11-23T11:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T15:21:22.281-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe it's stupid</title><content type='html'>I have been powering through the old TV series &lt;i&gt;Roswell&lt;/i&gt;. I decided to watch it when I was sewing all those dresses. I needed something to help me stay awake. I'm almost done with the third and final season. Some of this show is totally weird, and some of it is cheesy, and the plot is riddled with holes... but I have still enjoyed it for the most part. And the first season had a ridiculous amount of similarities to Twilight. And Roswell came first.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the best thing to come out of my hours of watching this show though, is the discovery of this song. One of the characters was supposed to have written it. It is really soulful and has a pretty melody. Here are the lyrics, I want to find a recording of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alone&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish I could read your mind&lt;br /&gt;Words don't mean a thing&lt;br /&gt;I've given you all my time&lt;br /&gt;All you do is leave&lt;br /&gt;And if you were standing here in front of me&lt;br /&gt;I know you would say&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing oh so precious&lt;br /&gt;As something that's gone away&lt;br /&gt;And if there is a reason&lt;br /&gt;I just don't want to know&lt;br /&gt;Why you feel the need to love me so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...only when you go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1307700310050555836?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1307700310050555836/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1307700310050555836' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1307700310050555836'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1307700310050555836'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/11/maybe-its-stupid.html' title='Maybe it&apos;s stupid'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8168627440009746816</id><published>2010-11-20T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-20T22:34:42.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This Took Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I recently completed a project in the knick of time. My niece's dance concert was on Thursday and I was commissioned to make 7 red satin dresses for the dance she choreographed with her friend. The dresses were officially finished on Wednesday, the day before the show. And it is not that I didn't have a few months to complete my task, I was just busy. I think I gave everyone involved a heart attack. I think my niece may hate me a little now. I'm a procrastinator. I'm the first to admit it. But this was cutting it down to the wire.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sorry Hannah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4HrMlqwI/AAAAAAAAAb8/0x2g20kPiGI/s1600/1097992272__dan6791.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4HrMlqwI/AAAAAAAAAb8/0x2g20kPiGI/s320/1097992272__dan6791.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541881783473515266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And thank you to Hannah and Hailey's Mommies (and you too Sara)! They came in to help me finish. These lovely ladies gave me just the shot in the arm I needed to keep working. Because when you are making the same dress over and over again in different sizes, life starts to suck. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4IDj7H5I/AAAAAAAAAcE/mLhXicspUTA/s1600/1097991301__dan6793.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4IDj7H5I/AAAAAAAAAcE/mLhXicspUTA/s320/1097991301__dan6793.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541881790013841298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I really need to recover my mannequin don't I? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyhoo, they all got sparkly black sashes to tie around their waists. The dresses looked pretty good on stage. They had a good flow when they were dancing. They were going for a 40's vibe, hopefully that comes across. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4HWzkkpI/AAAAAAAAAb0/P7bMbXzR66g/s1600/1098000605__dan7053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4HWzkkpI/AAAAAAAAAb0/P7bMbXzR66g/s320/1098000605__dan7053.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541881777999876754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I went to the show on Thursday. I took pictures with Dan's camera. It was inspiring to see a dance show choreographed mostly by high school students. I miss dancing. And I miss choreographing. I totally want to start some sort of "live music video" thing here in Gilbert. Just pick a bunch of radio songs and create art on stage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi8Yn47HFI/AAAAAAAAAcM/TuAJzUDp-FQ/s1600/1098015057__dan7062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi8Yn47HFI/AAAAAAAAAcM/TuAJzUDp-FQ/s320/1098015057__dan7062.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541886472690015314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Asher dislocated his radius on Friday. We didn't even know he was in that much pain, he just didn't want to use his arm. Since Asher was still not moving his arm when he woke up, we went to see a P.A. Saturday morning. That nice man popped my child's bone right back into place. Asher had tears streaming silently down his face. I'm sure it hurt pretty darn bad... but he is one tough cookie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8168627440009746816?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8168627440009746816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8168627440009746816' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8168627440009746816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8168627440009746816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/11/this-took-time.html' title='This Took Time'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOi4HrMlqwI/AAAAAAAAAb8/0x2g20kPiGI/s72-c/1097992272__dan6791.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6102141780537174505</id><published>2010-11-19T22:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T22:46:11.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gwen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Today my sweet Gwendolyn Monet turned one year old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOdsdxY_D6I/AAAAAAAAAbs/8spnLuKI7UQ/s1600/1097546028__dan7429.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOdsdxY_D6I/AAAAAAAAAbs/8spnLuKI7UQ/s320/1097546028__dan7429.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541517125232824226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We celebrated with a few gifts. We wrapped up two things that she already had hanging in her closet and a set of cheap fabric blocks from Ikea. The presents were mostly for show... and for Asher. It isn't a real party without a box or two to open. While I was gone (rehearsing kids for our primary program) Dan made a delicious devil's food cake. Gwen liked it, but she is always willing to share.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOdsdEo-lmI/AAAAAAAAAbk/FArE0kJwpFo/s1600/1097537084__dan7628.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOdsdEo-lmI/AAAAAAAAAbk/FArE0kJwpFo/s320/1097537084__dan7628.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5541517113220306530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am so lucky to be this girl's Mom. She is almost always happy and smiling. She is learning so fast! She says "Uh oh" at appropriate times. She dances whenever she hears music. She loves her family. She is crawling really well now. Someday she will get teeth and more hair and she will start walking. Every child goes at their own pace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am loving every step of the way.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6102141780537174505?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6102141780537174505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6102141780537174505' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6102141780537174505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6102141780537174505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/11/gwen.html' title='Gwen'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TOdsdxY_D6I/AAAAAAAAAbs/8spnLuKI7UQ/s72-c/1097546028__dan7429.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5985100802374796977</id><published>2010-11-02T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T16:42:31.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Etoufee</title><content type='html'>A few of you have asked for this recipe, so here it is straight out of my New Orleans cook book. I make the whole recipe if cooking for guests and half if I'm just cooking for our family. Try it, it is amazing!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Etoufee-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 pounds of meat (I usually do cooked chicken and/or shrimp. Mix it up if you want to)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 cup oil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3/4 cup flour&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 1/2 cups onions&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/4 cup celery (many times I omit this)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/3 cup garlic, mashed and minced&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2/3 cup green peppers, chopped&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/4 cup butter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 cup tomato paste&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 can chicken broth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 cups water&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 chicken flavored bouillon cubes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 teaspoons salt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 teaspoons black pepper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 teaspoon Tabasco pepper  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 teaspoon fancy paprika&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In a large skillet, make roux by stirring oil and flour over slow to medium heat. When roux reaches peanut butter color, add chopped onions, celery, garlic, and green peppers and saute for five minutes. In another skillet (small) melt butter and add tomato paste. Saute paste in butter until smooth and thick, about 5 minutes, and then mix with the roux. Pour in broth, slowly add water with the melted bouillon cubes in it, and balance of seasonings. Cook for 30 minutes. Add crawfish tails (or shrimp or other cooked meat) 5 minutes before serving. Serve with rice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure I have a picture of this somewhere. I can't find it now, but when I do the picture will be where these words are now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bon Appetit! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5985100802374796977?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5985100802374796977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5985100802374796977' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5985100802374796977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5985100802374796977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/11/etoufee.html' title='Etoufee'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1923329924981906239</id><published>2010-10-27T21:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T08:50:11.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on the fam</title><content type='html'>I haven't blogged much this month... partly because I have been very busy. Here is a flash update on each member of our household:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkEEY0xjEI/AAAAAAAAAbc/kpXUOMY9Tuw/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.50.52+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkEEY0xjEI/AAAAAAAAAbc/kpXUOMY9Tuw/s320/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.50.52+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532958090631154754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Gwen still looks pretty much the same as she has for the past 9 months or so. She is longer, but she still has the same face, not a lot of hair, no teeth, and tiny feet. She has been diagnosed with hip dysplasia which just means that she is extra flexible in her hip area and it will take her a little longer to learn how to walk and stuff. A wonderful woman named Jessica has been coming to our house every 2 weeks for the last month and a half for therapy and Gwen can now get in and out of sitting by herself and will tolerate standing for long periods of time. She doesn't crawl yet, but she scoots like a champ. I think she would have been famous in China a few decades ago. She is white, chubby, bald, has tiny feet, is a contortionist, and I'm pretty sure she speaks chinese all the time. When Asher was this age (almost a year) he had teeth, his first haircut, and was taking his first steps. But I'm glad I get to pretend like Gwen is a 7 month old for a little bit longer. It is like having a baby forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkEEFdRVtI/AAAAAAAAAbU/2YzgAYbLGvM/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.51.28+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkEEFdRVtI/AAAAAAAAAbU/2YzgAYbLGvM/s320/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.51.28+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532958085432301266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Asher is saying some pretty fun things lately. He is a little obsessed with Harry Potter, but when he started speaking to me in parseltongue we decided to put that movie away for a little while. He still hordes and places toys like an art curator. You may think he is sleeping in the above picture. Not so. He is playing "chop chop ninja" on my iphone. He can work that little piece of technology far better than I can, so I think he might take after his daddy. We are also keeping him away from the games on our phones, hoping that we can bribe him into being potty trained. It is not looking too good right now. I wont go into details.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkED3eCYwI/AAAAAAAAAbM/7W6f2eB1KFE/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.53.00+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 184px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkED3eCYwI/AAAAAAAAAbM/7W6f2eB1KFE/s320/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.53.00+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532958081677419266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am in the last stretch of playing the Baroness Elsa Schrader in the Sound of Music for Copperstar Repertory Co. This is the only picture I have of myself so far... I'm in the lobby with my nieces and nephews. You can't see how epic my hair is, but it is so awesome. It takes Sam at least an hour to do it. He also colored my hair for free at his salon. I'm pretty lucky, because he is dang good. Past clients include Kristen Chenoweth and Hillary Clinton, to name a few. He used to work on Broadway and at a swanky New York salon.&lt;div&gt;I also painted the abbey wall, sewed humongous nazi flags and runners (as previously stated), and have volunteered my time all over the place for this show... but I am getting paid for the help I've given two times a week to run the kids in the pre-show act. So, yeah. I've been busy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dan quit his job at Red Pear and has been venturing out solo. He has a few independent jobs right now, so contracting looks promising so far. He also sold all of his Cannon camera equipment and sort of traded it in for new Nikon stuff. He has a renewed interest in taking pictures, but unfortunately he can't photograph himself. No picture of Dan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, Dan has been really supportive through tech week and performances. He has had both kids from pretty much 4:00 on most days this month and I am so grateful that he supports me in my crazy adventures even when it is hard. I will try not to go overboard with this acting thing... but I just love it so much! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, I love him more...  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1923329924981906239?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1923329924981906239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1923329924981906239' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1923329924981906239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1923329924981906239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/10/update-on-fam.html' title='Update on the fam'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TMkEEY0xjEI/AAAAAAAAAbc/kpXUOMY9Tuw/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-10-27+at+9.50.52+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4301707985281902679</id><published>2010-10-18T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T13:19:43.993-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More sewing</title><content type='html'>Here are some recent projects:&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I made a tutu for my sister-in-law Sara...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TLyqk1-Lv3I/AAAAAAAAAas/h-H9Aat7rsw/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-10-12+at+3.20.23+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 202px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TLyqk1-Lv3I/AAAAAAAAAas/h-H9Aat7rsw/s320/Screen+shot+2010-10-12+at+3.20.23+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529481992444034930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I made a pillow out of Dan's torn white church shirt and some sequins...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TLyqkvXPmaI/AAAAAAAAAak/_mUBznG0kHg/s1600/1052018967_img_8801.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TLyqkvXPmaI/AAAAAAAAAak/_mUBznG0kHg/s320/1052018967_img_8801.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529481990670096802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also am in the process of making nazi flags for my play. I'm a little scared to post a picture for fear someone will get the wrong idea. But they are HUGE and epic. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4301707985281902679?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4301707985281902679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4301707985281902679' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4301707985281902679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4301707985281902679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/10/more-sewing.html' title='More sewing'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TLyqk1-Lv3I/AAAAAAAAAas/h-H9Aat7rsw/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-10-12+at+3.20.23+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4639312185123414876</id><published>2010-09-27T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-06T14:14:14.009-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Unillustrated Happenings</title><content type='html'>On Friday we threw a little dinner party for the adult Arizonan members of our family. We have been trying to make this a monthly tradition, and thus far we have been serving up tacos. We took to calling our evenings together "talk 'n tacos" so I was a little nervous to change the rules. But I did it anyway. I made etouffee, rice, jalapeno cornbread muffins, and chocolate souffle with toffee sauce. (There are a lof of double fs in that food! Which is why it could make you ffat.) It was all SOOO good. Sara and Brian brought red berries and fruit dip that was also very delicious and Stephen and Rachel took care of the beverages with soda and Shirley Temples. It was like eating at a really good Cajun restaurant. I'm bragging, I realize, but I'm not kidding when I say- to coin a phrase from my sister Tracy circa 1998 or so- I wanted to go back in time and eat it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always like it when food turns out well for company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday Dan was gone all day at SunnyConf, which is a really cool conference for nerds. I think this was the first or second year they have held a rails (that is a computer language for those of you who don't speak geek) conference here in Phoenix, but Dan said they had some programming celebs there, and he met some cool people. He also signed himself up to do a lightning talk, which is where you talk about anything you want for exactly five minutes. He had no idea what he wanted to talk about when he put his name on the list, but he did it anyway. While he was waiting he fixed on a topic and put together some slides to go along with it. He gave the talk to me, and I thought it was pretty funny. I'm really proud of him. I mean, if our positions were reversed I would feel intimidated and freaked out to go out of my comfort zone like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am married to a cool guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While he was gone I had 16 cast members from &lt;i&gt;The Sound of Music&lt;/i&gt; rehearse at my house. It was super fun. I guess they couldn't get in the theater on Saturday and I told them I had an open area in my front rooms and a grand piano. It worked out perfectly, and I loved watching &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; kids watching &lt;i&gt;other&lt;/i&gt; kids sing and dance to Do Re Mi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I'm in the cast of &lt;i&gt;The Sound of Music&lt;/i&gt;. I was cast as Elsa, the rich fiancee baroness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry about the lack of photography.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4639312185123414876?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4639312185123414876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4639312185123414876' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4639312185123414876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4639312185123414876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/09/unillustrated-happenings.html' title='Unillustrated Happenings'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3257900552768123163</id><published>2010-09-22T22:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T22:26:00.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>That's Life</title><content type='html'>I never wanted to be in a sorority. It never appealed to me on any level. However, I am a little bit addicted to a facebook game called Sorority Life. I don't care about the part of the game where you fight other girls from rival sororities or the part where you plan events. To me, it is all about collecting outfits and accessories. It is like a game of paper dolls for grown ups. I suppose it appeals to the little girl in me AND the designer in me. I feel like such a shmuck admitting to the fact that I play this game, but hey... we all have our oddities, right?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrkAbt3NRI/AAAAAAAAAac/3QqyTc5kpPU/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.03.05+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 127px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrkAbt3NRI/AAAAAAAAAac/3QqyTc5kpPU/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.03.05+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519974989387216146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrj_gyP6eI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ib0PqKVQazI/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.00.54+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 132px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrj_gyP6eI/AAAAAAAAAaU/ib0PqKVQazI/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.00.54+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519974973567920610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrj_cGuY_I/AAAAAAAAAaM/q0ec_2CZcss/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.10.04+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 156px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrj_cGuY_I/AAAAAAAAAaM/q0ec_2CZcss/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.10.04+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519974972311626738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrj_HGqWdI/AAAAAAAAAaE/N-8e34bFh3s/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.25.58+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 142px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrj_HGqWdI/AAAAAAAAAaE/N-8e34bFh3s/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.25.58+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5519974966674217426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I know, I'm pathetic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3257900552768123163?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3257900552768123163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3257900552768123163' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3257900552768123163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3257900552768123163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/09/thats-life.html' title='That&apos;s Life'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJrkAbt3NRI/AAAAAAAAAac/3QqyTc5kpPU/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+10.03.05+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7873824816574963324</id><published>2010-09-19T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T21:49:38.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sewing on the brain</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a dream I was a contestant on Project Runway. Actually, it was kind of a nightmare even though I was chosen as someone who was "safe." We were making hats out of an article of clothing we owned. Everyone did a terrible job, including Heidi Klum, who was also a contestant. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I mentioned I have been teaching a sewing class. I think more people should learn to sew. I want to teach an adult class too. Here are some shots of a few of my lovely students with their first projects. In case you can't tell, they made their headbands. And they did a great job! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYqX9idI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/Rw2w5ktkAlc/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.40.23+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYqX9idI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/Rw2w5ktkAlc/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.40.23+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518852804266789330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYXrEaII/AAAAAAAAAZ0/NUgopWAhkCw/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.39.54+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYXrEaII/AAAAAAAAAZ0/NUgopWAhkCw/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.39.54+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518852799246657666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYKqWnhI/AAAAAAAAAZs/La9zuzhLdzk/s1600/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.41.10+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYKqWnhI/AAAAAAAAAZs/La9zuzhLdzk/s320/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.41.10+PM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518852795753995794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have decided to sew myself something this week. Stay tuned for the finished product!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7873824816574963324?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7873824816574963324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7873824816574963324' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7873824816574963324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7873824816574963324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/09/sewing-on-brain.html' title='Sewing on the brain'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TJbnYqX9idI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/Rw2w5ktkAlc/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-09-19+at+9.40.23+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7543540968522257568</id><published>2010-09-11T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T08:51:17.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to normal</title><content type='html'>Remember that &lt;a href="http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/lucky-is-that-you.html"&gt;post&lt;/a&gt; I did on how CRAZY Lucky the Leprechaun looked? Well, the right people must have read it, because things are back to normal now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIxdoD4k4mI/AAAAAAAAAZE/c9VtR8BHRog/s1600/IMG_7190.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIxdoD4k4mI/AAAAAAAAAZE/c9VtR8BHRog/s320/IMG_7190.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515886586440770146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, semi-normal. His eyebrows are still indistinguishable from his hair and he still has smoke around him, but it looks less suspicious. Because he doesn't look high. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are, of course, still pushing the whole teleporting thing, but it looks much more friendly now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIxdo25NWfI/AAAAAAAAAZM/3v7uC8EmSSA/s1600/IMG_7193.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIxdo25NWfI/AAAAAAAAAZM/3v7uC8EmSSA/s320/IMG_7193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515886600133630450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good for you General Mills, good for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7543540968522257568?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7543540968522257568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7543540968522257568' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7543540968522257568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7543540968522257568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/09/back-to-normal.html' title='Back to normal'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIxdoD4k4mI/AAAAAAAAAZE/c9VtR8BHRog/s72-c/IMG_7190.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8017559149457904530</id><published>2010-09-03T11:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T11:07:42.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Silver Dresser</title><content type='html'>In case you were wondering what a silver leafed dresser looks like...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIE4oxz1xaI/AAAAAAAAAY8/JCh7Rg_J4ko/s1600/IMG_7199.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIE4oxz1xaI/AAAAAAAAAY8/JCh7Rg_J4ko/s320/IMG_7199.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512749692094891426" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... it looks like this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really love the way it turned out, but it took a REALLY long time. And I should have ordered the silver leaves in bulk. But it is great to try new things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our room colors are greyish blue, white, cream and silver. I think the color palate of our room is relaxing. I have been noticing mirrored furniture, but I don't like the idea of always having to wipe it down. I have never heard of anyone silver leafing a dresser, but I love the way it turned out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8017559149457904530?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8017559149457904530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8017559149457904530' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8017559149457904530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8017559149457904530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/09/silver-dresser.html' title='Silver Dresser'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TIE4oxz1xaI/AAAAAAAAAY8/JCh7Rg_J4ko/s72-c/IMG_7199.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5184872264266552349</id><published>2010-08-30T10:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T10:13:11.077-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Acts</title><content type='html'>On Friday night I went to the gym with Amy and Michelle. We were just exercising away on the treadmills and elliptical machines in the back and we all had earbuds in so I guess we didn't hear the warning. When we finished up, we were the only ones in the building. The doors were locked. I guess they close at 9:00 on Fridays.  We took some pictures for documentation, but none of them turned out well.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Sunday, one of our neighbors shot an arrow into our house. Yep, you read that right. It was sticking out of our stucco right next to my craft room window. He seemed to be appropriately embarrassed and distraught. We thought it was funny. Especially since he offered to send some people over to patch it up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wrote, directed, and choreographed a roadshow that performed on Saturday. I got away with only rehearsing the kids twice! How awesome is that??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I'm teaching a sewing class in about 30 minutes. I guess that is random too, but it's true. Gotta go!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&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/1026989841244594740-5184872264266552349?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5184872264266552349/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5184872264266552349' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5184872264266552349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5184872264266552349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/08/random-acts.html' title='Random Acts'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-505087288159642934</id><published>2010-08-28T22:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T23:21:25.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I win again</title><content type='html'>My friend Emily did her first ever giveaway on her blog &lt;a href="http://www.emilybartlett.com/"&gt;Southern Sunshine&lt;/a&gt;. And I got a little something in the mail yesterday. This is the second thing I've "won" out in blog land, the first being a super cute monster onesie from &lt;a href="http://rachellidesign.com/"&gt;Rachelli&lt;/a&gt;. Of course, both of my winnings have been through friends' blogs, so maybe they just hooked me up to be nice. Emily actually said she had a lot of extra headbands hanging around, so she could have given one to every person that commented for all I know. Be that as it may, I'm sure glad she unloaded one on me! It is super cute. I tried it on Gwen, and she wasn't super thrilled, which is why I don't have a shot of her wearing it. Soon though... soon. &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/THn7Uf9P6JI/AAAAAAAAAYs/71jrPbtYrpI/s1600/IMG_7194.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/THn7Uf9P6JI/AAAAAAAAAYs/71jrPbtYrpI/s320/IMG_7194.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5510711948658862226" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Little Kenzi even has her own stationary. How cute is that?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-505087288159642934?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/505087288159642934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=505087288159642934' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/505087288159642934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/505087288159642934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-win-again.html' title='I win again'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/THn7Uf9P6JI/AAAAAAAAAYs/71jrPbtYrpI/s72-c/IMG_7194.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8444069342295356469</id><published>2010-08-19T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T08:09:52.780-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Feather</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TG4GfgJrk-I/AAAAAAAAAYk/VfgMsPoh4K0/s1600/IMG_7174.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TG4GfgJrk-I/AAAAAAAAAYk/VfgMsPoh4K0/s320/IMG_7174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507346532596945890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Heather, we miss you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Heather is Jeff's girlfriend. Asher calls her Feather. She came to stay with us for about a week. Her sole reason in coming was to help me out. I pretty much love her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is an abbreviated list of what Heather did for me:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-swept and mopped all the tile in the house&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-cleaned my shower (even after I told her she shouldn't have to because it was too gross) and the bathroom&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-babysat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-fed Gwen bottles and baby food&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-played with my kids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-dishes, dishes, dishes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-cleaned all of our blinds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-accompanied me to the gym and motivated me to work out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-fixed lunch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-accompanied me on hard shopping adventures (such as Al's building supplies/seedy junkyard) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-vacuumed &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-helped me seal and finally finish my silver leafed dresser &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;-detailed and washed my car&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I'm probably leaving at least one thing off this list, but Heather and I accomplished A LOT while she was here. And we had fun! We talked and sang (she asked for a voice lesson, but it was more like a sing-along) and worked out and had a blast. I wish she lived with me. Life is much more fun and easy with her around. Before this week I didn't know Heather well. Now, I think of her as a friend. A sweet, gorgeous, talented, hard-working, motivated, smart, wonderful friend. Come back any time, Heather. You are always welcome here. Oh, and marry Jeff. We need to be related.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8444069342295356469?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8444069342295356469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8444069342295356469' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8444069342295356469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8444069342295356469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/08/feather.html' title='Feather'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TG4GfgJrk-I/AAAAAAAAAYk/VfgMsPoh4K0/s72-c/IMG_7174.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7155741395619463990</id><published>2010-08-10T14:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T15:17:25.973-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back from Mars</title><content type='html'>I have sort of an obsessive personality.&lt;br /&gt;I don't obsess about &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt;. Sometimes the thing I'm obsessing over is good, and sometimes it is bad. There is really no rhyme or reason. For instance, I can see a movie like Inception and think "that was a really good movie" and that's the end of it. But I can see a terrible movie like the most recent version of The Stepford Wives and I can't get it out of my mind. It is a little maddening.&lt;br /&gt;This tendency of mine doesn't just apply to movies. I can get hooked on music, hobbies, or just about anything. If I start reading a book, no matter if it is good or bad, I &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;need&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt; to finish it, and quickly. It is a curse, really. &lt;div&gt;I don't watch much television. I usually tune in to a show via hulu.com after it has been out for a while. Sometimes the show has already been cancelled, which was the case for my latest foray into a little program called Veronica Mars.&lt;br /&gt;Somehow that show got its hooks into my brain. I know what I have to do when this happens. I just need to get it over with as soon as possible. I need to watch it all and get it out of my system. It is a good thing there were only three seasons. Of course, now that I've seen all they made, I'm a little sad that they left it hanging like that, but I suppose they couldn't help getting cancelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TGHJ2jEMUSI/AAAAAAAAAYc/K36M_5D3ZuU/s1600/vm.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TGHJ2jEMUSI/AAAAAAAAAYc/K36M_5D3ZuU/s320/vm.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503902158586401058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just left Veronica Mars on all the time for a couple days. I missed a lot of what was going on in the second and third seasons, because you know... I had children to care for. But I got the gist and I didn't miss the important stuff. Whew! Anyway, I can come back to reality and live my normal life now. I hope I get obsessed with cleaning soon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7155741395619463990?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7155741395619463990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7155741395619463990' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7155741395619463990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7155741395619463990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/08/back-from-mars.html' title='Back from Mars'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TGHJ2jEMUSI/AAAAAAAAAYc/K36M_5D3ZuU/s72-c/vm.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2363553310439477373</id><published>2010-07-27T02:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T15:29:32.879-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It rhymes with Hurt-y</title><content type='html'>So. I had a birthday. Despite entering another decade -(shudder)- it was a nice weekend. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dan got me a piano keyboard that hooks up to my computer. This is awesome because I have written a lot of songs and I want to be able to record them. That man is always thinking. (side note: he had me enter the room where it was already set up, and he rigged up some little mechanism where a ball got knocked onto a box that pressed a button and the computer started playing the Birthday Song. It was awesome!) He also gave me his old iphone and got me a new docking station and a case for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got cards and gifts and facebook love. I guess it is almost worth having a birthday to get that little reminder that other people like me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got a massage and a facial. It was.... &lt;b&gt;SO&lt;/b&gt; good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I dyed my own hair for the second time in my life. The first time I was 13 and it came out orange. Now I'm 30 (shudder) and it came out kinda brassy reddish blonde. Think Nicole Kidman meets Draco Malfoy. I'm probably going to try to fix it soon. Notice in the photo I have a wide headband covering the offending part of my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TE6jZtvqArI/AAAAAAAAAYM/EQQuzX57sWs/s1600/IMG_7156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TE6jZtvqArI/AAAAAAAAAYM/EQQuzX57sWs/s320/IMG_7156.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498511857237492402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;Sorry Dan and Gwen. This is my blog and I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:x-small;"&gt; show the best picture of myself at the expense of others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had Dan's Arizona siblings (minus the still vacationing Amy) over for tacos and cake the day after my b-day. It wasn't exactly &lt;i&gt;for&lt;/i&gt; my birthday per se, but it was fun to get together. We vowed to do something like this more often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TE6jaN5ayDI/AAAAAAAAAYU/AmJKs9H_meg/s1600/IMG_7149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TE6jaN5ayDI/AAAAAAAAAYU/AmJKs9H_meg/s320/IMG_7149.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498511865868372018" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We fit them all at our itty bitty table.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. On my birthday my children had 4 different caregivers in one day! FOUR! First the gym day care, then my friend Nancy watched them while I went to Massage Envy, then a girl with 7 siblings from church came to be here while they were napping while I &lt;i&gt;tried&lt;/i&gt; to go get my license renewed at the MVD (yes, that is what they call the DMV out here) but they were closed randomly, and then my lovely niece Hannah watched them while Dan took me to eat at Carrabas. That is a record I hope will never be topped.    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-2363553310439477373?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2363553310439477373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2363553310439477373' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2363553310439477373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2363553310439477373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/07/it-rhymes-with-hurt-y.html' title='It rhymes with Hurt-y'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TE6jZtvqArI/AAAAAAAAAYM/EQQuzX57sWs/s72-c/IMG_7156.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4013838945092679715</id><published>2010-07-22T11:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T13:09:46.561-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates Galore</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Gwen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEicLGfFuII/AAAAAAAAAYE/wfYlf7tZnpA/s1600/gwenmonet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEicLGfFuII/AAAAAAAAAYE/wfYlf7tZnpA/s320/gwenmonet.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496815059739195522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has been eating solids (no chunks) and sitting like a pro for quite a few weeks now. I remembered that I was supposed to be reading books to her everyday so I have been trying to do that. She eats ok... not as well as Asher did, but she gets the job done most of the time. She also takes in less liquid, which is a problem here in the dry hot Arizona air. I try to make her drink water bottles, but so far she only likes water if she is sucking on a rag in the bath. She won't put her weight on her feet, and maybe it is because they are still the size of a newborn's. As I mentioned before, she has the EXACT same size feet as her cousin Zach who is 8 weeks old. I have given up on socks and tights. They don't work at all.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Asher.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEicKdQso-I/AAAAAAAAAX8/pz-9G3Mpmwg/s1600/gashereyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEicKdQso-I/AAAAAAAAAX8/pz-9G3Mpmwg/s320/gashereyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496815048672977890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tic Tacs are candy to him. Also- he calls Gwen's Gerber bites "starfish" and Sunny D "Sunshine." Marshmallows are still "secrets" and business cards and receipts are "treasures." He will call any ball a "space ball" especially the little squishy basketball around here. He has a few mispronunciations like "hangabars"(hamburgers) "callapaters" (caterpillars) and "Minjas" (Ninjas). He is getting more imaginative, and the other day he pointed to some clouds and called them "polar bear mountains." We were reading his "foot book" and he pointed to a duck and told me it had "diver feet." He currently has a preoccupation with an imaginary scary orange hippy-pot-o-mus (another mis-pronunciation.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No picture, sorry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not much going on with me. I go to the gym a lot. I tried a diet that was supposed to make me lose 12 pounds in 2 weeks, and I was starving, but in a week and a half I had gained a pound instead of losing any, so I decided to quit that. I'm about to turn 30, which is a coincidence because that is exactly the number of pounds I would like to lose (at the minimum). I have a lot of housework to do all the time. I'm not reading anything, going anywhere or hanging out with anybody. I don't have any goals or projects I'm working on. I got a new calling of primary song leader which is something I never really wanted to do although everyone thinks that is a perfect calling for me. I got released from my nursery singing calling which I loved. I promise I'll let you know if anything exciting happens to me in the future, because right now I'm just kinda sitting around watching my kids. Good thing they're cute.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still cute and skinny and smart and working for Red Pear. He also has other projects that come his way every once in a while, which is nice. He works on his website spokt.com every now and again adding features and whatnot. He is a secretary in the Elder's Quorum Presidency and he still takes the occasional picture of our kids as seen above. I'm glad he has talent and a good camera. Cute pictures of my kids are nice to have. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow. This feels like the kind of Christmas Card we never send out! Sorry for boring anyone who made it this far. I guess this is mostly for... posterity?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4013838945092679715?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4013838945092679715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4013838945092679715' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4013838945092679715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4013838945092679715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/07/updates-galore.html' title='Updates Galore'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEicLGfFuII/AAAAAAAAAYE/wfYlf7tZnpA/s72-c/gwenmonet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1331092870462995884</id><published>2010-07-20T12:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T12:25:20.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>July 17th</title><content type='html'>This past Saturday marked two important dates in our lives. First of all, exactly one year ago we moved into our house. Secondly (and far more importantly) the 17th is Asher's birthday. He turned three years old.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laugh when I think about how we commemorated these events. First of all, there was no celebration for our house. Not one room is "done" as far as decorating goes. The house is still lacking in furniture and style. Some rooms need paint. The house didn't even get cleaned for it's anniversary. Sad I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On all the mommy blogs I see out there in cyberspace, every child's birthday party is amazing. There are themes and tons of children. There are specialty cakes and fun favors. Not to make Asher feel left out, I decided on a theme. Would you like to know what it was? Of course you would. The theme was "cheap and free stuff." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep. He got some cheap birthday hats and some cheap red and blue streamers that were hung unevenly through the blinds on our windows. The cake was free: an ice cream cake that Grandpa bought from the grocery store while he was in town that we never busted out. We wrapped things like tic tacs and fruit snacks. I got most of his gifts on sale at the Disney store. I didn't buy anything that wasn't at least half off. There were no kids at his party, unless you count his baby sister. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did much better last year. Somehow as we were moving into our house we had time to make a Wall-E cake and invite cousins and stuff. Right now all the cousins are in California, so that didn't work out this time. We still have no friends, so there was no one else to invite.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The thing is... it didn't really matter. Asher is only three after all, he doesn't know he is supposed to have friends or themes or anything. He loved opening things like tic tacs just as much as he loved opening his Buzz Lightyear shirt or Hamm piggy bank. He still had a fun time, and hopefully I'll try harder when he is older and he cares more. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEX3cDk9GeI/AAAAAAAAAX0/7HxwG4d0260/s1600/photo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEX3cDk9GeI/AAAAAAAAAX0/7HxwG4d0260/s320/photo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496070981644261858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See. Look how happy he is. All the time. No matter what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1331092870462995884?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1331092870462995884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1331092870462995884' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1331092870462995884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1331092870462995884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/07/july-17th.html' title='July 17th'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TEX3cDk9GeI/AAAAAAAAAX0/7HxwG4d0260/s72-c/photo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-9040076966091269028</id><published>2010-07-12T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T08:33:44.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Visit</title><content type='html'>Last weekend I had some family members in town again. How lucky am I that I keep getting visited? Kristy and her three kids came as well as Lori and her two boys and my mom and dad. We were all comfy in this house, but I really need to think about getting a queen sized bed set up in a guest room. We have so many visitors and only one extra twin bed. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I keep not blogging about it because I don't really have any pictures. I took a few, but my camera battery ran out and I can't find my charger. So here it is... my &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; late blog with no pictures. Here are some of our highlights:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Kristy's and my kids playing outside at the mall play area in the heat. That took the energy right out of them, and quick! They play really well together and it was fun to watch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- Reanne and Sierra conspiring to give me and Asher gifts because it is our birth month. They got Asher a frog that terrifies him (you can never tell what is going to put him over the edge), and me two pots of pretty flowers that I can't seem to keep alive. Thanks girls for being thoughtful, and thanks Kristy for paying for those treats!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- We went to my Grandma's 79th birthday! It was special to be there with so many relatives even though my grandma actually hates to be fussed over and doesn't like crowds much. She loves her family, so she put a brave face on. I love my Grandma.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- I loved just sitting and talking with my family. I miss that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- We watched some old embarrassing family videos. So funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- We went to Cornish Pastys again! LOVE that food. (It is especially good when just coming off of a diet.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;- We discovered on the last day of our trip that Gwen and Zach's feet are the same size. Exactly. Zach is EIGHT WEEKS OLD. Gwen is almost eight MONTHS old. We knew she had tiny feet, but this is ridiculous. If they had a chart for feet size she probably wouldn't register. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-9040076966091269028?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/9040076966091269028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=9040076966091269028' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/9040076966091269028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/9040076966091269028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/07/another-visit.html' title='Another Visit'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3617429855769139135</id><published>2010-06-28T22:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T23:31:56.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Important One</title><content type='html'>I did get one thing from my project pile done before Tracy left... I finished her dress! You know, the one I started in December...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpze9zgYUI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KMvAXHzWTgM/s1600/IMG_7035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpze9zgYUI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KMvAXHzWTgM/s320/IMG_7035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488326071728234818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is how it turned out. Not the best pictures in the world... just taken with my point and shoot out back in my weedy yard. Of course, I had a lovely model so she did her part. If only I were a better photographer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpziK0EwmI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/whlbo5-92p0/s1600/IMG_7037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpziK0EwmI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/whlbo5-92p0/s320/IMG_7037.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488326126759887458" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a shot of the lace hem. I love the way it turned out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpzhpif0zI/AAAAAAAAAXI/MRYflDea9Qw/s1600/IMG_7040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpzhpif0zI/AAAAAAAAAXI/MRYflDea9Qw/s320/IMG_7040.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488326117827793714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few more details...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpzhA5r2fI/AAAAAAAAAXA/ZyHkHiPXEEg/s1600/IMG_7039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpzhA5r2fI/AAAAAAAAAXA/ZyHkHiPXEEg/s320/IMG_7039.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488326106919197170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy late late late birthday, Tracy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;P.S. Doesn't she look fantastic???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpzeDa_ZUI/AAAAAAAAAWw/amG4QdVTlN8/s1600/IMG_7044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpzeDa_ZUI/AAAAAAAAAWw/amG4QdVTlN8/s320/IMG_7044.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488326056056153410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3617429855769139135?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3617429855769139135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3617429855769139135' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3617429855769139135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3617429855769139135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/06/most-important-one.html' title='The Most Important One'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCpze9zgYUI/AAAAAAAAAW4/KMvAXHzWTgM/s72-c/IMG_7035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5390885603686765298</id><published>2010-06-28T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T21:28:37.005-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspiration Comes to Town</title><content type='html'>Tracy, whom I recently referred to as my inspiration, came to visit this past weekend. I said I would get 10 things done from my project pile before she came.... unfortunately that didn't end up happening. I did a few things, but I didn't even like the way they turned out, so I didn't post about them. Also my brother and his wife came to visit right before Tracy did, so I was busy with them and didn't have as much time as I thought I would to work on projects. Anyhoo, I had a fun time with Chad and Clara working out at my gym and looking at model homes and eating at Cornish Pastys and chatting. I also more recently had fun with Tracy being crafty and cooking and going to Joe's Farmhouse and the Wizard of Oz and window shopping and getting pedicures and talking. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While Tracy was here, we made necklaces and headbands. The necklaces were replicas from the J. Crew store and the headbands were an idea we saw at Designer Blvd. (among other places). She also made lemon cake that was to die for! If you want to see the recipe or a semi-tutorial of the headbands complete with gross pictures of me, head on over to &lt;a href="http://tracyjeanmills.blogspot.com/"&gt;her blog&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I guess I am in charge of the necklace tutorial, but I don't feel like going in to detail. Mostly because we just made it up as we went along, and because they were sort of fragile in the end. I wore mine to church and Gwen almost tore it apart.  Anyway, if you want to make it you need strips of chiffon fabric, large glass pearls, a few large black jet beads and string.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku4UfmkuI/AAAAAAAAAWY/rFWY3sv6TgQ/s1600/IMG_8801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku4UfmkuI/AAAAAAAAAWY/rFWY3sv6TgQ/s320/IMG_8801.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487969166036472546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We used black thread and strung all of our beads first. We knotted the thread so that the beads would stay about a thumbprint's width apart. Then it was time to lie them down on our long strip of chiffon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku5L6jYPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/zDhPlF1fv-8/s1600/IMG_8804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku5L6jYPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/zDhPlF1fv-8/s320/IMG_8804.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487969180913459442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We kind of wrapped the beads in the chiffon and then used other smaller strips of the same material and tied knots in between the beads. I tied the knots twice so that they wouldn't fall apart, and I tied them quite tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku5rSXOtI/AAAAAAAAAWo/ZbFp8_bafJY/s1600/IMG_8844.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku5rSXOtI/AAAAAAAAAWo/ZbFp8_bafJY/s320/IMG_8844.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487969189334825682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We left enough room at the end of our chiffon strips to tie a bow. They ended up looking pretty good, but like I said they were kind of fragile. If I were to do it again, I think I would wrap the beads in two long strips of chiffon instead of one, and I would knot those two together in between each bead.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5390885603686765298?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5390885603686765298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5390885603686765298' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5390885603686765298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5390885603686765298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/06/inspiration-comes-to-town.html' title='Inspiration Comes to Town'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TCku4UfmkuI/AAAAAAAAAWY/rFWY3sv6TgQ/s72-c/IMG_8801.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6550689280586494385</id><published>2010-06-14T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T08:25:19.160-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pileup</title><content type='html'>So, I have a bunch of projects that are almost done. I guess I'm one of &lt;i&gt;those&lt;/i&gt; people. You know, the kind that start things that they never finish. Well, I'm going to try to change that. I'll finish the "almost finished" things from my project pile, and I will report. Since my sister Tracy is my inspiration (she does something awesome like everyday) I will try to get 10 things done by the time she comes to visit on the 24th. (Yay!!)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Side note: I've also become one of &lt;i&gt;those&lt;/i&gt; moms. You know, the kind that ignore their children in favor of something stupid and inconsequential. I used to be APPALLED by mothers who were watching TV, and who's kids would come up and beg for some attention. "Will you read to me Mommy? Can you play with me Mommy? Will you LOOK at me Mommy?" All the while the Mother was staring at the latest dumb reality TV show saying "Go away. Not now. Can't you see that fat guy is trying to get naked girl off the island??" I hated that those Mommy's were messing up their own reality in favor of some stupid alternate reality. But now that is me. I get tired of playing with, feeding, and caring for my kids all the time so I turn to the computer many times a day while my kids just have to deal. Do you know how many cute blogs there are out there? Anyway, those cute mommy blogs are not my reality, so I've decided that I will only do this while my kids are asleep or otherwise engaged. If they need me, the computer gets put away!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In fact... I hear Asher waking up now. Good bye computer!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6550689280586494385?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6550689280586494385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6550689280586494385' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6550689280586494385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6550689280586494385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/06/pileup.html' title='Pileup'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7073084618538268004</id><published>2010-06-04T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-04T21:36:22.790-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For the record</title><content type='html'>A few things about my girl:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAnTTfcOecI/AAAAAAAAAV4/qt7U_dQH8pg/s1600/gwenney.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAnTTfcOecI/AAAAAAAAAV4/qt7U_dQH8pg/s320/gwenney.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479142753483782594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Her feet are still so tiny. The only socks that will stay on her feet are the skinny infant kind. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She is the happiest kid ever. She may cry when she wakes up, but she gives you the hugest smile right when you walk in the room. And sometimes she doesn't even cry when she wakes up. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She doesn't have a lot of hair, but her eyelashes are to die for! They are light though, so they are hard to see... but you just wait until she is old enough for mascara. (16, right?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She is 30th percentile for weight and 75th for height, so you would think she would look skinny. She doesn't. She is chub-a-licious. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She loves her brother. Sometimes if she is fussing a little bit, Asher comes over and says "Shh. Momma's gotchu, momma's gotchu." He also randomly pats her head and says "Sweet Baby Gwenners!" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She's not so good at rolling from tummy to back. She has done it, but she usually just makes noise until you help her back onto her backside. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No scooting yet. And no sitting. She can support her weight just fine, but she doesn't have balancing down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She likes to chew on her foot right now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all love her in this house. I can't believe she is already almost 7 months old. It is amazing how time flies. &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/1026989841244594740-7073084618538268004?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7073084618538268004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7073084618538268004' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7073084618538268004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7073084618538268004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/06/for-record.html' title='For the record'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAnTTfcOecI/AAAAAAAAAV4/qt7U_dQH8pg/s72-c/gwenney.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8919374677351430270</id><published>2010-05-31T12:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T01:39:17.758-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to SB</title><content type='html'>I am the crazy lady who drove from Arizona to California and back &lt;i&gt;with&lt;/i&gt; her two babies but &lt;i&gt;without&lt;/i&gt; her husband. It actually wasn't too bad of a drive because the kids are so good in the car, but the dinner stop was hard. They slept a lot on the way. (Yay!) I almost did too.(Boo!) They were pretty good on the way back, but we had our moments. &lt;div&gt;While in Santa Barbara we stayed with my parents. In one room. It ended up working out surprisingly well. We needed the other rooms for Tracy and her posse (Lorelie, Ashlee and Steve. Brad and his wife came, but didn't stay the night at the house.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's the travelogue:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Thursday:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Arrive late. Talk to family for a while anyway. Sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Friday:&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Drive up to the mountains with Tracy and hang out with Mom, Lori, William, and 2 week old Zachary. Have lunch there and laze around the river for a while. See some dear. Head down the mountain and go to the Hixon's house. Talk and order pizza for dinner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Saturday:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Go to the beach and rent one of those tourist bikes that holds a lot of people and enjoy a cruise around the warf area with Mom, Asher, Gwen, Tracy and her friends Lorelie and Ashlee. Drop kids off for nap time and walk around Paseo Nuevo. Head back for a fantastic Mills BBQ. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Sunday:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Go to church with no husband and two kids during nap time. Miss out on the talks due to Asher yelling things like "I don't LIKE to whisper!" and "I don't WANT to be reverent!" as well as the need to distract a hungry baby. Forgo talking to anyone due to the necessity of taking grumpy (Asher) and hungry (Gwen) kids home. Go to the I Maddonari chalk festival (sans children) with Tracy and friends. Run into The Nelsons. Take pictures. Another Mills BBQ. Hang out with the family (including the Wrenns) and give William and Asher a bath. After Wrenns leave, play the game "Things" with Tracy's funny friends until we are all too tired.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Monday:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Hang out with the family. Have hamburgers. Allez chez Hixon to be with the in-laws and the Westenskows. Go to La Cumbre Plaza with all the girls. Observe my skinny nieces in cute clothes and swimwear. Come back, chat, go back to the Mills home. Chill.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Tuesday:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt; Get everything together and go. Have a harder time going back than coming out. Be VERY happy to see Dan. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you want a more detailed recap, feel free to visit my &lt;a href="http://tracyjeanmills.blogspot.com/"&gt;beautiful sister's blog&lt;/a&gt;. We didn't do everything together, but we did a lot! And she has a lot of pictures. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAdpwcfGjwI/AAAAAAAAAVw/CxwPp8wsMTs/s1600/traynjay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 175px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAdpwcfGjwI/AAAAAAAAAVw/CxwPp8wsMTs/s320/traynjay.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478463752720781058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just love these two... had to post!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAdpwGQCQVI/AAAAAAAAAVo/vTnnrWVgT04/s1600/ashnwill.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAdpwGQCQVI/AAAAAAAAAVo/vTnnrWVgT04/s320/ashnwill.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478463746752004434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8919374677351430270?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8919374677351430270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8919374677351430270' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8919374677351430270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8919374677351430270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/05/back-to-sb.html' title='Back to SB'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/TAdpwcfGjwI/AAAAAAAAAVw/CxwPp8wsMTs/s72-c/traynjay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-1647009643383488917</id><published>2010-05-22T17:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-25T14:46:59.513-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Julie/Julia/Jamie</title><content type='html'>We saw the movie &lt;i&gt;Julie/Julia&lt;/i&gt; two days ago. I liked it for a few reasons. &lt;div&gt;a) Meryl Streep is the best. She IS Julia.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;b) Amy Adams looked like a normal person. She wasn't Hollywood skinny and she kind of had an unattractive mullet. Also, her character was &lt;i&gt;married&lt;/i&gt; to the character she was living with. Love that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;c) The plot was refreshing and not the average Hollywood formula. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;d) The movie was pro-blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;e) I have a connection or two with Julia Child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let me explain that last one. First of all I had some voice students in Santa Barbara who's parents were like BFFs with Julia Child. They were even photographed in Martha Stewart's magazine with her at a dinner party before Julia passed away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I've met Julia Child. I was acting in a Gilbert and Sullivan show at the Santa Barbara Women's Club and she was in the audience. Afterward, she wanted to meet the cast members. So, I got my picture taken with her. Just me and Julia. I never got a copy of that picture, unfortunately. She met Dan too. We were engaged and I was 20 years old and Julia was a little concerned. She was a sweet lady. She also asked me about my "marks" in school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of the reasons I loved this movie is it made me understand her more. I didn't know much about her when I met her. Now I realize maybe the reason she was concerned about my engagement is because she got married for the first time when she was in her late 30s. (But Julia, I'm just as in love with my husband as you were! Eight years and counting.) I wish I could meet her again now. I would have a lot more to say. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also thought for some reason that it was really cool that I accomplished something, without even trying, that Julie in the movie wanted so badly to do. Somehow it made me feel accomplished. Odd, I know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last reason I liked this movie is I think it inspired my husband. He made some delicious tacos for lunch today and we made YUMMY bread this afternoon. I've already had three fat slices. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-1647009643383488917?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/1647009643383488917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=1647009643383488917' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1647009643383488917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/1647009643383488917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/05/juliejuliajamie.html' title='Julie/Julia/Jamie'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6548535404605665454</id><published>2010-05-18T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T22:58:13.598-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How is it done?</title><content type='html'>So, for those who want to know how to spend $30 a week on groceries, I'll tell you what I do. There is no guarantee that this will work for you. Remember, this is eating in to my food storage a little bit. And I don't count diapers and toiletries, mostly because I buy those in bulk and they last a LONG time. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I should tell you, we are an "eat meat sparingly" kind of family. And when I say sparingly, I mean it. I think this is the most cost effective way to eat. I buy some bulk frozen hamburger and some frozen chicken tenderloins from Costco about once every six months. I buy frozen shrimp every so often.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I am a "creative" cook. If I don't have everything for a recipe, sometimes I omit or substitute. Sometimes I end up liking the results better than the original. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is a sample of what I bought one week:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(from Costco)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5 dozen eggs ... $4.19&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;100 corn tortillas ... $2.79&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;50 8" flour tortillas ... $3.69&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 pound block of cheddar .. $4.49&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 pound block of monty jack ... 4.49&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(from grocery store)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;bag of potatoes ... $ .98&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2 bell peppers ... $ .98&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;bag of oranges ... $ .98&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;bag of onions ... $ .98&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;gallon of milk .. $1.68&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;spaghetti noodles ... $1.59&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;head of lettuce ... $ .40&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a few cans of tomato sauce ... $ 2.00&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;a few cans of pinto beans ... $1.00&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so that ends up to be about $30. I have to just say "no" to junk food, ice-cream, and novelty items, which I suppose makes me healthier in the long run anyway. And I add up prices as I go, always rounding up. I think to myself, "do I really need this item &lt;i&gt;this&lt;/i&gt; week?" and if the answer is "I guess not" I don't get it. Also, when I go to the grocery store to purchase food I always get whatever veggies and fruits are cheapest, whatever they may be. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here are the meals you can make with all this food:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cheese enchiladas (And make a second pan for the freezer for next week) and beans&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;spaghetti with garlic bread and salad &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;potato soup with salad and muffins (from pantry)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;stir fry with rice and oranges&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Etoufee with rice &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;roasted pepper quiche with baked potatoes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;quesadillas, oranges and beans&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;heuvos rancheros &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, you will have loads of eggs and tortillas (and probably cheese) left over for next week, so you can free up the majority of your $30 budget to buy other staples you may be running low on like flour, rice, frozen veggies, pancake mix or meat. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, that is the gist. With that said, I &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt; do this the whole first year we were married, but it is a &lt;i&gt;lot&lt;/i&gt; harder now with two kids. I have decided that $60 is much more comfy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6548535404605665454?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6548535404605665454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6548535404605665454' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6548535404605665454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6548535404605665454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/05/how-is-it-done.html' title='How is it done?'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4488595242947216603</id><published>2010-05-10T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-10T21:51:39.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Extravaganza</title><content type='html'>Lately we have been trying this experiment where I only spend $30 a week on groceries. Thirty per week is what I spent on groceries for about the first year of our marriage. It is harder with two kids, but doable if you don't count diapers and the occasional supplemental baby formula. Also, we are eating into our food storage a little bit. Lesson learned: either food has gotten more pricey in 7 years, or kids really &lt;i&gt;are&lt;/i&gt; expensive!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I felt like cooking. A lot. I made crock pot potato soup and blueberry muffins for dinner. I also made chalupes for later and a roasted veggie soup that I can use as a base for lasagne and other italian dishes this week. I had, as Dan put it, a "cookingpalooza" today. I'm probably going to make bread now because we ran out and Dan brings lunch to work. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I made my favorite yummy easy salad for dinner as well. I will share the recipe:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Arugula Salad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-arugula lettuce (can be found at most supermarkets or at Trader Joe's)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-olive oil&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-lemon juice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-salt &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-pepper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-parmesan cheese (please use freshly grated!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Put the arugula in a bowl, squeeze a lemon over it. Drizzle with olive oil. Flavor with salt and pepper. Top with grated parmesan, to taste. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have also added shaved red onion and avocado, which both taste fantastic!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4488595242947216603?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4488595242947216603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4488595242947216603' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4488595242947216603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4488595242947216603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/05/food-extravaganza.html' title='Food Extravaganza'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2267686887787277911</id><published>2010-05-04T15:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-05T00:31:31.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travelogue</title><content type='html'>Ok- all you really need to know about Easter is that Asher was egg-cited to find eggs... until he spotted his easter basket with Woody and Buzz Lightyear inside. Those two are currently his favorite toys. He is sleeping with them right now. Maybe he will be more excited for hunting next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to Santa Barbara for a week. We came back on Sunday. It was crazy to see the city where I have lived the vast majority of my life in a different light. There were so many things that I didn't remember! I noticed how worn down things looked, how narrow the streets were, and how there are hills just about everywhere. I never realized &lt;i&gt;any&lt;/i&gt; of that until I moved to a brand new, very flat part of Arizona.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We stayed with Dan's folks. They were wonderful hosts, and their guest bed is a dream to sleep on. Gwen slept in the closet and Asher slept in a port-a-crib in the sewing room. He didn't appear to mind his demotion in the bed department. Nor did he climb out and get into the needles, scissors, paper cutters, or other dangerous things that surrounded him on every side. Yay. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For those of you who hate long posts, sorry. I will give you bullet points and you can stop reading after that. Here goes:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sunday&lt;/b&gt;: Church. Mills dinner.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Monday&lt;/b&gt;: Mountains. River. Birthday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Tuesday&lt;/b&gt;: Zoo. Habit. Anna. Kahuna.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wednesday&lt;/b&gt;: Shoreline. Forbidden sandwiches. Date. Party in my Stomach. Frostads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Thursday&lt;/b&gt;: Train. D'Vine. Carousel. LATE Pizza.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Friday&lt;/b&gt;: Pacific Crepes. La Cumbre. Paseo Nuevo. Late Chinese.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Saturday&lt;/b&gt;: Simi. R&amp;amp;A Hixons. Prom Pictures. Murphys. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sunday&lt;/b&gt;: Church. Homeward. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday we went to church and saw a lot of people we haven't seen in about a year. It was great. After church we went to the Sunday feast at my parent's house. It did not disappoint. It was wonderful to be with family and the food was REALLY good.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Monday we went up the mountain to my sister's place in the wilderness. Lori is &lt;i&gt;very&lt;/i&gt; pregnant, but she guided our little hike down to the river. Asher and William had some cousin time throwing rocks in the water. They got dirty. The Wren's abode is pretty awesome looking. My sister is really good at actively making her house look great on a budget. She should blog. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom Hixon made a delicious dinner for her husband's birthday and we got to partake. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tuesday we went to the zoo with Dan's dad. We met Lori and William there. The kids LOVED it and Asher has not stopped talking about the animals. After our zoo outing we went to the Habit and had some delicious food. I didn't know I missed that tri-tip sandwich til I was eating it. We parted ways and I was pleased to find Moma H's book club just ending at the homestead. My friend Anna was there and I was SO happy I got to talk with her. She is awesome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We finished our day with Ceasar salad at the Kahuna grill. We split a coconut shake and Asher stared at the fish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wednesday I went to the park play group with Lori &amp;amp; William. It was sunny but windy. Luckily Shoreline park is encircled by thick wooden posts which stopped a lot of the wind. It was fun to see some of the moms I used to see every week. Then Lori came over to the Hixon's where we fixed some forbidden sandwiches-- "forbidden" because the Swiss cheese and rye bread were only supposed to be used for Rubens and Mama H was pretty upset that we would use any of those components without making a Ruben, but we didn't want Rubens, could we please have some cheese? She finally caved and let us have the kind of sandwiches we wanted.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That night Dan and I went out on a date -without children- to the Palace Grill. We knew we wanted to eat there while we were back in SB. We split popcorn crawfish, etoufee, and a chocolate soufflé. Pure heaven. (Did I mention we went on a date without kids?!) Later we got together with our friends Jon and Karen Frostad. They brought homemade nutella ice cream. It was pretty dang good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thursday we went to the train station so that Asher could see a real live train come in. There is also an old train car on the lot, which he liked a lot. I think he also enjoyed the modern train, but he was just quietly taking it all in. That is his way sometimes. We then went to the carousel and Asher "rode a horse" against his will. His dad was standing right next to him, but he cried until the ride slowed down. (He was better behaved at Disneyland.) However, he still talks about it so he might not cry next time. We (my mom, Dan, Dan's folks, the kids and I) met one of Dan's ex co-workers and Jeff at D'Vine, a lovely yummy sandwich shop on De la Vina Street. When we went home we played the Wii and ordered pizza that took FOREVER to get there. Asher was soooo hungry and confused. He kept going from person to person and just looking at them sadly or resting his sad head on them- and when I say "them" I mean mostly me. I don't think he knew what the problem was. He might be like his dad that way... not recognizing hunger for what it is. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Friday we went to Pacific Crepes for lunch. The woman who runs it and takes your order speaks French. She is not too great with English, so I felt slightly useful. Of course my limited French is pretty rusty, but I got my pregnant sister to a bathroom. The dessert crepes were delish! Dan went off to his old work while I went with my sister and mom (and the kids) to La Cumbre Mall. We didn't really do a lot there, currently there are a lot of empty stalls where there used to be stores. But I did go in to Max Azria and look at the clothes while Gwen and William slept and Asher played in the fountain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later I went to the other mall downtown and got my eyebrows done with Dan's mother. We walked around a bit more than we should have and we were late coming home to start dinner. We made a ton of chinese food and my parents brought a coconut cake over. We had a fun time hanging out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday we went down to Simi Valley and hung out with Roger and Alison. My niece Clara was pretty impressed that I could do back handsprings on her trampoline. To be honest, so was I. We then went to the Murphy's where we would be staying the night. We dressed up a little bit to go to a "modest prom" and take pictures. Well, Dan took the pictures, I took the money. Someone else took our kids. For almost 4 hours! Yowza, it was a lot of work. We were busy the whole time, and that was fun. Hopefully the kids like their photos. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, that is it. Probably a little too much info, but this blog is mostly for me. I'm selfish. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll post some pictures later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-2267686887787277911?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2267686887787277911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2267686887787277911' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2267686887787277911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2267686887787277911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/05/travelogue.html' title='Travelogue'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5930229450280099515</id><published>2010-04-21T21:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T22:07:38.074-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trick</title><content type='html'>Gwen started rolling over today. She did it a lot. Mostly it was back to tummy, but a few of her tricks were front to back. Here is a sequence of photos documenting Gwen rolling precariously on the couch. (Don't worry my foot was &lt;i&gt;totally&lt;/i&gt; ready to catch her if she started slipping off the edge...) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S8_W0JSIGjI/AAAAAAAAAVI/pBZgYpjgPY0/s320/IMG_6856.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462821064357190194" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S8_W0g_UasI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/xiviBtDbYWQ/s1600/IMG_6857.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S8_W0g_UasI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/xiviBtDbYWQ/s320/IMG_6857.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462821070720756418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S8_W1MZvH5I/AAAAAAAAAVY/hH25DCdheMk/s320/IMG_6863.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462821082374283154" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should note that she is wearing her Easter dress from the Dollar Store. It shrank a little in the wash, so it is a summer shirt now. I kinda forgot to blog about Easter. Maybe I'll do that soon. I need to clean my house first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5930229450280099515?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5930229450280099515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5930229450280099515' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5930229450280099515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5930229450280099515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/04/trick.html' title='The Trick'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S8_W0JSIGjI/AAAAAAAAAVI/pBZgYpjgPY0/s72-c/IMG_6856.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7955622190161736070</id><published>2010-04-08T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T20:15:07.270-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jam Session</title><content type='html'>I'll tell you two of the best things about living close to my sisters-in-law: they are motivated and they are inclusive. When they are doing something awesome like having lunch or making strawberry jam I am invited. It is the best, because I would probably never do these things on my own.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today we made strawberry freezer jam at Sara's house. I kind of wish I took pictures of all of us in Sara's &lt;b&gt;cute&lt;/b&gt; aprons, but I only got a shot of the massive amounts of jam we made. I personally walked away with 24 jars. Yes, I have tasted it. Yes, it is delicious. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S76V0fBwWOI/AAAAAAAAAVA/BFD3xXnuC2c/s1600/IMG_6723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S76V0fBwWOI/AAAAAAAAAVA/BFD3xXnuC2c/s320/IMG_6723.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457964527334217954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterward we had a joint birthday lunch for Amy and Rachel at an amazing restaurant called Joe's Farm Grill. (This is one of the first eateries Dan and I experienced in AZ. I should probably do an extra blog entry about how awesome it is.) Truth be told it was Amy's 5th birthday lunch or something, but nobody is complaining. We love to get together. And Rachel needed one anyway. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I missed my zumba class at the gym, but I suppose that is alright every once in a while. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7955622190161736070?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7955622190161736070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7955622190161736070' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7955622190161736070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7955622190161736070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/04/jam-session.html' title='Jam Session'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S76V0fBwWOI/AAAAAAAAAVA/BFD3xXnuC2c/s72-c/IMG_6723.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2397681769660406982</id><published>2010-04-01T21:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T21:15:17.262-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April 1st</title><content type='html'>Today is April Fools day. This is my least favorite "holiday." I celebrated by asking Gwen if she had been eating rainclouds. I know that has nothing to do with anything, but that is the closest I got to a joke. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7VvHUqhUdI/AAAAAAAAAU4/1pyUheRoug8/s1600/gwenners.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7VvHUqhUdI/AAAAAAAAAU4/1pyUheRoug8/s320/gwenners.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455388695226044882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-2397681769660406982?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2397681769660406982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2397681769660406982' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2397681769660406982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2397681769660406982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/04/april-1st.html' title='April 1st'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7VvHUqhUdI/AAAAAAAAAU4/1pyUheRoug8/s72-c/gwenners.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5401820643481631244</id><published>2010-03-31T15:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T15:13:25.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Things</title><content type='html'>Let's get a closer look...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH9sHipzI/AAAAAAAAAUg/kIaOvmRluuQ/s1600/IMG_6710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH9sHipzI/AAAAAAAAAUg/kIaOvmRluuQ/s320/IMG_6710.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454923436304541490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Closer still...&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH-Bs3mYI/AAAAAAAAAUo/RcmAh1UyMkQ/s1600/IMG_6712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH-Bs3mYI/AAAAAAAAAUo/RcmAh1UyMkQ/s320/IMG_6712.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454923442098248066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there it is. A little discovery that puts a smile on my face during the monotony. Thanks, Asher.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH_KH26FI/AAAAAAAAAUw/-iOwlKF8D8A/s1600/IMG_6715.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH_KH26FI/AAAAAAAAAUw/-iOwlKF8D8A/s320/IMG_6715.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454923461538801746" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5401820643481631244?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5401820643481631244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5401820643481631244' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5401820643481631244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5401820643481631244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/little-things.html' title='The Little Things'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S7PH9sHipzI/AAAAAAAAAUg/kIaOvmRluuQ/s72-c/IMG_6710.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6435380011055973164</id><published>2010-03-19T13:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T14:27:36.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky... is that you?</title><content type='html'>I bought some Lucky Charms on sale the day after St. Patty's Day. (This was the closest I got to celebrating the "holiday" by the way.) There is something nostalgic about Lucky Charms for me. I used to eat all the cheerio-type bits and save all the marshmallows for the end, so the last bites would be pure sugary goodness. Gross, I know.&lt;br /&gt;Asher asked for some Lucky Charms this morning, and I noticed his eating strategy differs from mine. He picks all the marshmallows out first and eats the other stuff if he feels like it. I wonder what that says about our personalities....&lt;div&gt;Anyway, when I saw the Lucky Charms box, something looked different to me, and it wasn't just the new thing they have done to the marshmallows. It was Lucky the Leprechaun. I mean, I know it is required by cereal law to have a picture of some sort of smiling and deranged wide-mouthed mascot eyeing a picture of whatever is in the box like he is going to eat it before you, but this was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6PeS7qTKVI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/FMaEetBiavw/s320/IMG_6701.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450444390882552146" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;First off, did they &lt;i&gt;remove&lt;/i&gt; his eyebrows or is that them partying with the rest of his hair under the hat? If those are his eyebrows, they are &lt;i&gt;huge&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;Secondly, his hat has been replaced. By some alien that looks like it is impersonating a hat and is trying to eat his head.&lt;br /&gt;Third, is that a green wing or part of his coat? Maybe it is a scarf with octopus tentacles as fringe? Perhaps it is part of the alien on his head.&lt;div&gt;Next, there is sparkling hookah smoke all around him, which he is ignoring just fine. He has his eyes on the prize.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lastly, let's talk about those crazy eyes. I don't think he could blink if he tried. His pupils are swimming in a sea of white, and he looks slightly mad. As in crazy. A happy, euphoric crazy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, now lets talk about the back of the box. The top says "Discover the Power of Teleporting." Ok, kids. Let's do that. Already this sounds disturbingly mystical. But wait, there is a picture below showing us what teleportation looks like... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6PeTcm1QzI/AAAAAAAAAUY/CVM7VC2cUyA/s1600-h/IMG_6702.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6PeTcm1QzI/AAAAAAAAAUY/CVM7VC2cUyA/s320/IMG_6702.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450444399726379826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Run for the hills!!! Lucky is going to throw swirly marshmallows at you and KILL you and then he will disappear! The only weapon that you can use against him is apparently a cell phone or video camera. Otherwise those teeth are going right for your jugular, and you better believe no one will hear you scream in that creepy graveyard where you guys are hanging out.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh Lucky, what have they done to you? All those years of paranoia about people being after your Lucky Charms have finally broken you. Apparently you bartered your soul for the ability to teleport and now you can fight back... but to what end, Lucky? To what end?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6435380011055973164?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6435380011055973164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6435380011055973164' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6435380011055973164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6435380011055973164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/lucky-is-that-you.html' title='Lucky... is that you?'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6PeS7qTKVI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/FMaEetBiavw/s72-c/IMG_6701.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5495197347955251174</id><published>2010-03-17T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T08:56:32.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sister Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6DwqqRANuI/AAAAAAAAAT4/ALJEGDRUdTg/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-03-17+at+8.08.44+AM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 120px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6DwqqRANuI/AAAAAAAAAT4/ALJEGDRUdTg/s320/Screen+shot+2010-03-17+at+8.08.44+AM.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449620164809078498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend I got to hang out with my mom and all three of my beautiful sisters. They made it easy on me... they all traveled here to my house in Arizona. We were all really tired at the end of the visit, (we stayed up too late and woke up too early) but we had a fun time together. The weekend went by quickly, and we didn't have time to do &lt;i&gt;everything&lt;/i&gt; we wanted to do, but we &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt; do a few fun things. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took them to Pastis, my fav Euro eatery. We window shopped afterward at Anthropologie and Z Gallery. We spent almost a whole day with my Grandma in Cave Creek and we visited my Grandpa. &lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6D001bUV7I/AAAAAAAAAUI/55KLUWBrnZc/s320/GnGngirls.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449624737650333618" /&gt;We ate lunch at Mimis. (I love that place!!) We watched our boys play together and Asher had to re-learn some sharing skills. We sang together. (Tracy and I sang some duets. Fun!) We made yummy food and desserts and ate them. Like our Pi Pie for Pi Day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6D00FKtOTI/AAAAAAAAAUA/1ykyOCuYtak/s1600-h/pipie.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6D00FKtOTI/AAAAAAAAAUA/1ykyOCuYtak/s320/pipie.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449624724695759154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a fun visit. It was wonderful just to be together. I'm glad they came, and I'm sad they are gone... but now Gwen is old enough where we could handle a trip, so maybe next time I will be the one travelling. Maybe when Lori has that baby in about 8 weeks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5495197347955251174?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5495197347955251174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5495197347955251174' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5495197347955251174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5495197347955251174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/sister-weekend.html' title='Sister Weekend'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S6DwqqRANuI/AAAAAAAAAT4/ALJEGDRUdTg/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-03-17+at+8.08.44+AM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-778537918481117456</id><published>2010-03-10T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T18:26:17.178-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Worst</title><content type='html'>To Asher, getting a haircut is worse than death. Probably worse than shots. Haircuts are the worst. &lt;br /&gt;And I am the lucky woman who gets to give Asher his haircuts. &lt;br /&gt;I know I could take him to a place, but I don't want to shell out ten bucks (or more) to hand the torturous responsibility off to someone else. (Imagine all the IceDream Cones(R) I could buy from Chic-fil-a(R) with that money!) I just bite the bullet when Asher starts looking like David Bowie from Labyrinth and do it myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a rough afternoon, but now I have my happy boy back.  We just had a tickle fight after I chased him around trying to take his picture. That boy can't sit still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5hRwhrfcZI/AAAAAAAAATg/De6KZKho0P0/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-03-10+at+7.11.16+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 165px; height: 270px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5hRwhrfcZI/AAAAAAAAATg/De6KZKho0P0/s320/Screen+shot+2010-03-10+at+7.11.16+PM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447193643420971410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p style="text-align:center"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You remind me of the babe...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AFTER:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5hS49oBFxI/AAAAAAAAATo/w_6xZ4e6N5w/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-03-10+at+7.16.06+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 281px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5hS49oBFxI/AAAAAAAAATo/w_6xZ4e6N5w/s320/Screen+shot+2010-03-10+at+7.16.06+PM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447194887873173266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-778537918481117456?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/778537918481117456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=778537918481117456' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/778537918481117456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/778537918481117456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/worst.html' title='The Worst'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5hRwhrfcZI/AAAAAAAAATg/De6KZKho0P0/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-03-10+at+7.11.16+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8064505870024530385</id><published>2010-03-09T15:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T23:17:31.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Inner Foodie</title><content type='html'>As a cook, my attitude is pretty unpredictable. Sometimes I don't want to put forth the tiny effort it takes to open up a can of something and plop it on the stove for 5 minutes. Other times my inner gourmet comes to the surface and I actually spend time cooking elaborate meals. These are some of our recent dinners-&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5ctyfR3NmI/AAAAAAAAATY/F9CfCZ3KKCw/s1600-h/IMG_6661.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5ctyfR3NmI/AAAAAAAAATY/F9CfCZ3KKCw/s320/IMG_6661.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446872619741034082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yummy crock pot potato soup from &lt;a href="http://crockpot365.blogspot.com/search/label/potatoes"&gt; this&lt;/a&gt; website... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5ctxomumeI/AAAAAAAAATQ/IEKCCJRTJQE/s1600-h/IMG_6642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5ctxomumeI/AAAAAAAAATQ/IEKCCJRTJQE/s320/IMG_6642.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446872605064600034" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Martha Stewart &lt;a href="http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/06/infinity-lasagna.html"&gt;infinity lasagna&lt;/a&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As well as some yummy pork tacos that my wonderful sister-in-law Sara gave us for our dinner yesterday. I'm sure you could find the recipe at her cooking blog &lt;a href="saucyapron.blogspot.com/"&gt;saucyapron&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I repeated something I tried a week or so ago. I have had the recipe, but have never wanted to try it because I thought Dan would turn his nose up at it. Turns out, he likes it a lot and even thinks it is "fancy." I think it is easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Huevos Rancheros-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4-6 Corn tortillas  &lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp Cumin&lt;br /&gt;1 16 ounce can of black beans (both times I've used pinto and it has been great)&lt;br /&gt;1 chipotle chili in adabo sauce, diced OR 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup mild salsa&lt;br /&gt;4-6 large fried eggs&lt;br /&gt;2/3 cup Monterey Jack cheese (also good with cheddar)&lt;br /&gt;1 ripe avocado (haven't used this yet, you serve it on the side.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heat oven to 425. Put tortillas on a baking sheet and place in oven to warm. Toast the cumin in a small dry saucepan over medium heat for a minute or so (until fragrant). Add the beans and chipotle or pepper. Remove tortillas from the oven. Top each tortilla with beans, salsa, one fried egg and cheese. Place in the oven until cheese melts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you like your egg yolks runny, don't leave your huevos rancheros in the oven for too long. &lt;br /&gt;This may sound like a super weird recipe, but it is fast, easy, good and cheap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8064505870024530385?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8064505870024530385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8064505870024530385' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8064505870024530385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8064505870024530385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-foodie.html' title='My Inner Foodie'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S5ctyfR3NmI/AAAAAAAAATY/F9CfCZ3KKCw/s72-c/IMG_6661.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-821194749047471815</id><published>2010-03-02T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T10:59:43.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Love</title><content type='html'>I never click adds. Well, make that almost never. Yesterday I was on facebook and I clicked an add for&lt;a href="http://www.burdastyle.com"&gt; this website&lt;/a&gt;. It was a good first. I'm in love with this site. I haven't been able to get myself away from it. Right now my favorite patterns are &lt;a href="http://www.burdastyle.com/projects/the-tikva-trench?image=75451"&gt;this trench&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.burdastyle.com/patterns/bella"&gt;these pants&lt;/a&gt;. Don't ask me why I have a thing for high waisted pants right now. They would probably look atrocious on me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-821194749047471815?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/821194749047471815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=821194749047471815' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/821194749047471815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/821194749047471815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-love.html' title='New Love'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4372805732677268955</id><published>2010-02-22T14:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T18:03:35.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on the Kiddos</title><content type='html'>Gwen is 3 months old. She sleeps pretty well unless she is having a growth spurt. When she poops, it is an explosion and it stains whatever she is wearing. Even my most trusted &lt;a href="http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/09/cleaning-tip.html"&gt; stain remover&lt;/a&gt; (and bleach if the clothes were white) CANNOT remove her stains. She is amazing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S4Mm8exGY6I/AAAAAAAAAS4/6RTEW2Kv1YI/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-02-22+at+4.01.48+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S4Mm8exGY6I/AAAAAAAAAS4/6RTEW2Kv1YI/s320/Screen+shot+2010-02-22+at+4.01.48+PM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441235595286700962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, she can still fit into some of her "newborn" clothes as witnessed by this cute red dress she wore to church yesterday. (Thanks, Aunt Tracy!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asher is totally funny and totally two. He rambles a lot and "reads" to himself ("Brown bear, brown bear... what you doin' here!?") He likes to jump around and explore. He also sometimes likes to be in charge. ("Mom, put the baby down. I 'ant some juice!") He can be sneaky with stating "I 'ant to show you somesing" and then leading you to the fruit snacks, and if that doesn't work, giving you a hug and a kiss and "asking" again. He likes to sing and knows many of the words to primary songs as well as some musical theater classics. He loves to play, and is a very happy kid. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to be any closer to potty training, but I can handle that. I'm just happy that he started eating fruits and veggies again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S4Mm9jjB11I/AAAAAAAAATA/B1zjOqwUMLo/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-02-22+at+4.01.16+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S4Mm9jjB11I/AAAAAAAAATA/B1zjOqwUMLo/s320/Screen+shot+2010-02-22+at+4.01.16+PM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441235613749729106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I bought Asher a new shirt. It might seem narcissistic of me (ha!), but Asher actually thinks the names "Mom" and "Dad" are interchangeable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4372805732677268955?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4372805732677268955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4372805732677268955' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4372805732677268955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4372805732677268955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/02/update-on-kiddos.html' title='Update on the Kiddos'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S4Mm8exGY6I/AAAAAAAAAS4/6RTEW2Kv1YI/s72-c/Screen+shot+2010-02-22+at+4.01.48+PM.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4510530287693065565</id><published>2010-02-15T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T13:01:19.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my Heart</title><content type='html'>Sometimes Dan and I don't exchange gifts. For instance, no gifts for our anniversary this year. &lt;br /&gt;That is why I am always so shocked and delighted when he goes for it.&lt;br /&gt;This Valentines Day, he &lt;i&gt;really&lt;/i&gt; went for it. &lt;br /&gt;Behold my Valentines Present. &lt;br /&gt;Best. Gift. Ever.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mP1bDR3rI/AAAAAAAAASU/_uZMdbj9QWU/s1600-h/IMG_6622.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mP1bDR3rI/AAAAAAAAASU/_uZMdbj9QWU/s320/IMG_6622.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438536172983934642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was upstairs getting ready to go out when it was delivered. I had no idea. I came downstairs and I didn't want to go out anymore. The first song I played was "Think of Me" because it was the first song I ever memorized and I figured I could still play it although I haven't touched a piano in half a year. Asher stopped me halfway through... he is not a fan of me playing the piano. Then I played "Johanna" from Sweeney Todd, then Dan took the kids to get lunch so I played and sang "I Couldn't Be Happier" then I kind lost track of what came next. I love that piano. I love that Daniel.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I gave him in return was some cheese enchiladas (red and white!) and angel food cake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mSnmvoAQI/AAAAAAAAASk/qzoAVtOWSOU/s1600-h/IMG_6603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mSnmvoAQI/AAAAAAAAASk/qzoAVtOWSOU/s320/IMG_6603.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438539234139439362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mSnEn-g5I/AAAAAAAAASc/5u8ukxK2Sow/s1600-h/IMG_6617.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mSnEn-g5I/AAAAAAAAASc/5u8ukxK2Sow/s320/IMG_6617.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438539224980554642" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he just likes his cake plain, so only mine looked this pretty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4510530287693065565?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4510530287693065565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4510530287693065565' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4510530287693065565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4510530287693065565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/02/oh-my-heart.html' title='Oh my Heart'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mP1bDR3rI/AAAAAAAAASU/_uZMdbj9QWU/s72-c/IMG_6622.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3195605568022459367</id><published>2010-02-15T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T13:29:07.687-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Magical</title><content type='html'>My sister-in-law Amy is very magical. She seams to obtain everything at a discounted price... except when she gets stuff for free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the major advantages of living in Arizona is that I get to hang out with Amy more often. I already blogged about getting free cupcakes with her, now it is time to catalog another freebee. One day she walked into our gym, and the guy that signed us up flagged her right down and offered her 2 free tickets to the opening night of &lt;i&gt;Mary Poppins&lt;/i&gt; at the Gammage. She decided to take me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mBQgwdBEI/AAAAAAAAASE/AOzC6kY7sQU/s1600-h/IMG_6593.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mBQgwdBEI/AAAAAAAAASE/AOzC6kY7sQU/s320/IMG_6593.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438520145697637442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; The show was great. I liked Bert and the kids best. (Dan and I saw the same Bert in New York three years ago. He originated the role in London.) The only complaint Amy and I had was the statues. They needed bigger fig leaves. This is a family show after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3m8gGvyCCI/AAAAAAAAASs/ky3gDb4UmrU/s1600-h/Screen+shot+2010-02-15+at+2.27.40+PM.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 203px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3m8gGvyCCI/AAAAAAAAASs/ky3gDb4UmrU/s320/Screen+shot+2010-02-15+at+2.27.40+PM.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438585284779444258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy is lucky in other ways. We got to the theater way late and ran right in. We weren't sure they were still holding our tickets, and we were positive that the show had already started... but we walked right in with no line, received our tickets in 30 seconds, and made it to our seats right before the music started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy is also really fun. afterward we got lost trying to find our parking structure. Although we felt like we could be mugged at any time, we were giggling. While driving we listened to old school Alanis Morrisett and Evita and laughed at the words and Antonio's accent. We also saw a store that said "Drive thru liquor" in neon. Drinking and driving... hmm. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mBRPQzYOI/AAAAAAAAASM/h0mhrW7GK1E/s1600-h/IMG_6597.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mBRPQzYOI/AAAAAAAAASM/h0mhrW7GK1E/s320/IMG_6597.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438520158181351650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's a jolly holiday with Amy. &lt;br /&gt;No wonder that it's Amy that we love!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3195605568022459367?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3195605568022459367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3195605568022459367' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3195605568022459367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3195605568022459367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/02/magical.html' title='Magical'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S3mBQgwdBEI/AAAAAAAAASE/AOzC6kY7sQU/s72-c/IMG_6593.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6615983683625701765</id><published>2010-02-06T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T15:46:12.385-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Correction</title><content type='html'>You know what kinda stinks about the internet? You can't hear inflection or tone of voice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that some people may have thought that my last post was sad and that maybe I was feeling sorry for myself, but really I'm just fine. Life is great, I love my husband and my kids, and I feel pretty good because I'm exercising and I'm SLEEPING. That's right. It has been over a week and Gwen has been sleeping til 7:00 or 8:00am every day. I get at least 7 hours. I'm good. Life is good. I promise. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I was &lt;i&gt;trying&lt;/i&gt; to say is that my physical appearance and the cleanliness of my house are not my top priorities right now, and I was surprised at how low on the list those things were when I thought about it. My goal is to be "neater" and I'll get there, mostly for my family, because I honestly don't care if I'm drop-dead gorgeous (although I like to look nice) and I hate to clean. I was just good-naturedly poking fun at my current state.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, by the way, I'm loving the color of my toes more and more. FYI, the name is "Vodka and Caviar" by Opi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6615983683625701765?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6615983683625701765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6615983683625701765' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6615983683625701765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6615983683625701765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/02/correction.html' title='Correction'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7247050866894984703</id><published>2010-02-04T14:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T13:37:58.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sloppy</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I read something that inadvertently called my attention to what I slob I have been lately. I know I have a 2 and a half month old baby, but really I have no excuse for some of my slovenly ways. I actually had a dream a couple weeks ago where my mom was YELLING at me (something she never does) to clean my house. I try, I just can't get it all clean at once. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still going to the gym at least 4 days a week, which is hard because I don't have access to a car during the day right now. Dan is commuting to Tempe every day, so his sister Amy has been really kind and gone out of her way to take me a few times. I can also go at night. This is the only thing I am doing for myself in the physical appearance category. I try never to look in a mirror- this is how I stay happy. Even at the gym I try to stand behind someone in zumba class so that I don't have to see the reflection of the mess that is me. &lt;br /&gt;I only put makeup on once a week. (church)&lt;br /&gt;It has been over a month since I did my eyebrows.&lt;br /&gt;It has been over 5 months since any professional has touched my hair.&lt;br /&gt;It has been over a year since I've painted my toenails... &lt;br /&gt;until today.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S2tRUNR1KVI/AAAAAAAAAR8/8JR-hAFJkOE/s1600-h/IMG_6587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S2tRUNR1KVI/AAAAAAAAAR8/8JR-hAFJkOE/s320/IMG_6587.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434526782956317010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my attempt at doing something for myself. Valentines Day is on the way, right? I went for red. It's pretty sloppy, but at least I tried, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7247050866894984703?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7247050866894984703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7247050866894984703' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7247050866894984703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7247050866894984703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/02/sloppy.html' title='Sloppy'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S2tRUNR1KVI/AAAAAAAAAR8/8JR-hAFJkOE/s72-c/IMG_6587.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4271123032671155290</id><published>2010-01-20T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T16:41:56.297-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crippling</title><content type='html'>I have been to the gym 5 times a week since I signed up, every weekday. However, I don't know if I can go today. I'm crippled. My body feels like it was hit by a truck and it is really hard for me to go up and down stairs. Monday I went to an INSANE yoga class where we were switching positions every two seconds and doing a crazy amount of lunges and yoga push-ups for an hour. I don't think my body was ready for that kind of punishment. I figured on Tuesday I would take it down a notch and go to the Zumba dance class. It wasn't as bad as yoga, but I still can't move certain parts of my body. I'm fairly certain that limIted movement is &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; the goal of yoga class, so I will be sticking to my "gentle yoga" and "yoga 101" from now on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also crippling: I was writing thank you notes and Asher walked in. I tried to hide what I was doing right away, but he obviously saw me because at some point during the afternoon he got away from me, found these envelopes, and did some very important writing of his own. He then stacked them all up so that I didn't know the extent of the damage until I looked through the pile. I was doubled over in laughter.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S1d-7ZHKGxI/AAAAAAAAAR0/0ELAFGj2T-A/s1600-h/IMG_6561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S1d-7ZHKGxI/AAAAAAAAAR0/0ELAFGj2T-A/s320/IMG_6561.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428947434636712722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4271123032671155290?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4271123032671155290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4271123032671155290' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4271123032671155290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4271123032671155290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/crippling.html' title='Crippling'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S1d-7ZHKGxI/AAAAAAAAAR0/0ELAFGj2T-A/s72-c/IMG_6561.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-2490507240843623413</id><published>2010-01-14T15:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T22:19:19.996-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Before it won't fit anymore</title><content type='html'>This is not a picture from her blessing day, but this is exactly what she wore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0-lB78KrEI/AAAAAAAAARs/ybXDeaT-QEo/s1600-h/IMG_6553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0-lB78KrEI/AAAAAAAAARs/ybXDeaT-QEo/s320/IMG_6553.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426737528693238850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I would try to capture what she looked like for her blessing before she starts looking too different. I know it has only been a little over a week, but babies grow fast.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-2490507240843623413?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/2490507240843623413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=2490507240843623413' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2490507240843623413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/2490507240843623413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/before-it-wont-fit-anymore.html' title='Before it won&apos;t fit anymore'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0-lB78KrEI/AAAAAAAAARs/ybXDeaT-QEo/s72-c/IMG_6553.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5040546225278767738</id><published>2010-01-14T14:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T13:05:29.583-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Word of the Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday it was "Gingerbread"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0-gQKefkFI/AAAAAAAAARk/uCYr-WOa8DE/s1600-h/IMG_6543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0-gQKefkFI/AAAAAAAAARk/uCYr-WOa8DE/s320/IMG_6543.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426732275555340370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never knew there was a reason to "become a fan" of anything on facebook, but now I know. If you become a fan of &lt;i&gt;Sprinkles&lt;/i&gt; they give you a new word every day. If you whisper that word to the workers in the store, they will give you a FREE cupcake. It is a limited edition flavor for that day only, and they make a limited amount- so if you get there too late they may not have any more to give. &lt;br /&gt;The yoga girls and I got there at around 1:00pm (after a DELICIOUS lunch at the Nordstrom cafe, btw. Hail to the tomato basil soup and the bleu cheese &amp; pear salad!) and there were still plenty of free cupcakes for all of us. I would never have known the trick if it wasn't for them. Then again, I usually get things for free when I'm with Amy, but I'll save that for another post. Maybe when we use our free tickets to Mary Poppins at the Gammage...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Dan ate half of the cupcake and he swears it gave him diabetes. I ate a smidgen at a time, and I got a toothache with every tiny bite. Those things are good, but &lt;i&gt;sweet&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a good thing we don't live very close to a &lt;i&gt;Sprinkles&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5040546225278767738?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5040546225278767738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5040546225278767738' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5040546225278767738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5040546225278767738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/word-of-day.html' title='The Word of the Day'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0-gQKefkFI/AAAAAAAAARk/uCYr-WOa8DE/s72-c/IMG_6543.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6383082383684500913</id><published>2010-01-12T10:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T17:44:50.408-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Anniversary</title><content type='html'>Last night Dan and I (kinda) celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary (more than a week late) by taking the kids around the corner to a place called Hong Kong Kitchen. It was cheap and good Chinese food, and they serve huge portions. A good find. If you are in the neighborhood you should definitely give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What we did on our real anniversary was bless our baby girl in church and have a ton of people over after. Wish I had a picture to share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6383082383684500913?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6383082383684500913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6383082383684500913' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6383082383684500913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6383082383684500913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/anniversary.html' title='Anniversary'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-5935290214235104053</id><published>2010-01-12T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T15:27:16.043-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Weighty Issues</title><content type='html'>In case you were wondering, the answer is yes. &lt;br /&gt;Yes, it is hard for me to lose weight again after having another baby. In fact, I have &lt;i&gt;gained&lt;/i&gt; 8 pounds since the original weight loss of having the baby. I'm not as fat as I was after having Asher, but I don't fit into anything non-stretchy yet. And I don't look good in anything. It is no fun wearing maternity clothes &lt;i&gt;after&lt;/i&gt; you are pregnant. Going to the gym Monday through Friday and burning 400 calories a day isn't doing much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not so good with patience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-5935290214235104053?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/5935290214235104053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=5935290214235104053' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5935290214235104053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/5935290214235104053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/weighty-issues.html' title='Weighty Issues'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8312417730217329605</id><published>2010-01-06T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T15:20:02.007-08:00</updated><title type='text'>3 for 3</title><content type='html'>I've been a member of Mountainside Fitness for three days, and I have gone in to work out every day so far. I don't really like the whole "New Year's resolution" thing, but I am going to try to work out there at least 4 times a week all year long. They have excellent childcare and so far I'm loving it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big shout out to my husband for the gift of a whole year membership to this gym. My body, health, and sanity all thank him profusely.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8312417730217329605?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8312417730217329605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8312417730217329605' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8312417730217329605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8312417730217329605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/3-for-3.html' title='3 for 3'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3236100728283095971</id><published>2010-01-05T18:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T09:05:13.427-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kissin' Cousins</title><content type='html'>Asher's cousin Tallia just turned four in December, but she is already a little lady. She insists on wearing a skirt or dress almost every day, and she also insists on lipstick. The darker the better. Yesterday upon leaving our house her mom suggested Tallia give Asher a kiss. This was the result. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0P81kV4RKI/AAAAAAAAARU/SsIZkLyWLvY/s1600-h/IMG_6499.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0P81kV4RKI/AAAAAAAAARU/SsIZkLyWLvY/s320/IMG_6499.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423456373502919842" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note his cheek.&lt;br /&gt;Too cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3236100728283095971?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3236100728283095971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3236100728283095971' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3236100728283095971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3236100728283095971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/kissin-cousins.html' title='Kissin&apos; Cousins'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/S0P81kV4RKI/AAAAAAAAARU/SsIZkLyWLvY/s72-c/IMG_6499.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-6333618346164669397</id><published>2010-01-01T18:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T22:27:01.595-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Par-Tay</title><content type='html'>We are so lucky to be related to the best party throwers on planet Earth. We have been invited over for Thanksgiving, Christmas dinner, and now their New Year's celebration this year. How do they do it?! Stephen and Rachel... the pinnacle of party planning. The dynamic duo. No list of guests too large, no game too messy, no water chestnut without bacon. When I grow up (or get less lazy) I want to throw parties like the S&amp;R Hixons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This New Years Eve I enjoyed New York Charades, the Dollar Game, the food, and the general festivities. The kids enjoyed the games every hour on the hour. The whole "New Years across America" theme was brilliant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some random festive shots from Dan's camera. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7Afnr-RxI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Hh6xtYtlxvk/s1600-h/754674474_img_3158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7Afnr-RxI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Hh6xtYtlxvk/s320/754674474_img_3158.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421982650862552850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7Afz4MfeI/AAAAAAAAARE/NFhZNQRXmA0/s1600-h/754673427_img_3165.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7Afz4MfeI/AAAAAAAAARE/NFhZNQRXmA0/s320/754673427_img_3165.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421982654135041506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7AfCamx3I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/cfUsWLO40S8/s1600-h/754678244_img_3135.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7AfCamx3I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/cfUsWLO40S8/s320/754678244_img_3135.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421982640857597810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Asher was dang tired, but stayed up the whole party long.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7AgbXjbjI/AAAAAAAAARM/VqPVuf6MVl8/s1600-h/754676999_img_3142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7AgbXjbjI/AAAAAAAAARM/VqPVuf6MVl8/s320/754676999_img_3142.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421982664735551026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-6333618346164669397?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/6333618346164669397/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=6333618346164669397' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6333618346164669397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/6333618346164669397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2010/01/par-tay.html' title='Par-Tay'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz7Afnr-RxI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Hh6xtYtlxvk/s72-c/754674474_img_3158.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3042905358465101355</id><published>2009-12-29T15:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T13:26:36.699-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas-y Things</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;Things we did this December to get in the Christmas spirit:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz5oaeXacTI/AAAAAAAAAQs/rGT1M_UJ-_c/s1600-h/754705921_img_2932.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz5oaeXacTI/AAAAAAAAAQs/rGT1M_UJ-_c/s320/754705921_img_2932.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421885805437808946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We decorated our new fake tree. (Of course, Asher un-decorated everything he could reach every time my back was turned.) &lt;br /&gt;*We put a few strings of LED ice-cycle lights on the house.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw61aLONtI/AAAAAAAAAQM/WKrG8kBVHig/s1600-h/IMG_6349.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw61aLONtI/AAAAAAAAAQM/WKrG8kBVHig/s320/IMG_6349.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421272740681103058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We partied with the Footes (complete with gingerbread decorating contest and nativity reenactment)  &lt;br /&gt;*We got pictures with Santa at the mall (thanks for the idea and the ride, Aim)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw60QnPh8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/_TwpN5P9RA0/s1600-h/IMG_6341.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw60QnPh8I/AAAAAAAAAP8/_TwpN5P9RA0/s320/IMG_6341.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421272720934406082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We wrapped gifts (the night before Christmas... Asher's need to unwrap everything+ procrastination+ my desire for gifts to look super cute= no sleep for me on the 24th)&lt;br /&gt;*We partied with the Stecks (and got the best gift ever during the white elephant gift exchange)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw8uDezdgI/AAAAAAAAAQc/8w5QD3D-IqE/s1600-h/Christmas2009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw8uDezdgI/AAAAAAAAAQc/8w5QD3D-IqE/s400/Christmas2009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421274813353391618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We put out a super cute Christmas card (super cuteness thanks to Dan and lateness of card mailing thanks to me)&lt;br /&gt;*We had family in town (and Mom and Dad are still here. Sad to see Tracy go today...)&lt;br /&gt;*We partied with the S&amp;R Hixons (yummy food and cute variety show)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw__k-Oq4I/AAAAAAAAAQk/7Tw0C7CJxN8/s1600-h/IMG_6351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Szw__k-Oq4I/AAAAAAAAAQk/7Tw0C7CJxN8/s320/IMG_6351.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5421278412936227714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We saw the Mesa Temple lights twice!&lt;br /&gt;*We caroled to our neighbors and some friends on Christmas Eve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3042905358465101355?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3042905358465101355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3042905358465101355' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3042905358465101355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3042905358465101355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-y-things.html' title='Christmas-y Things'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sz5oaeXacTI/AAAAAAAAAQs/rGT1M_UJ-_c/s72-c/754705921_img_2932.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-8825515117152845082</id><published>2009-12-18T22:44:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-18T22:50:29.730-08:00</updated><title type='text'>iPod Touch Give-away!</title><content type='html'>I'm not allowed to win this contest because I'm married to the guy that is in charge... but I think everyone else should enter. The prize is an iPod Touch for goodness sake. The fact that my husband is involved should tell you that it is totally legit and you have good chances of winning. So click the link and read all about it. It is easy, I promise! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=http://blog.spokt.com/general/ipod-touch-give-away/&gt;iPod Touch Give-away!&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted using &lt;a href="http://sharethis.com"&gt;ShareThis&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-8825515117152845082?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/8825515117152845082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=8825515117152845082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8825515117152845082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/8825515117152845082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/12/ipod-touch-give-away.html' title='iPod Touch Give-away!'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-4274598071516854400</id><published>2009-12-13T17:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T19:44:13.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Actress</title><content type='html'>Gwen's first time on stage was, of course, in my belly during &lt;i&gt;Joseph&lt;/i&gt; a few months ago. Well, she sure is getting an early start to her acting career, because she is not yet a month old and has already played the demanding role of baby Jesus twice. She is really good. No crying. Very method. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I used the oven for all three meals today. That has got to be some kind of record for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-4274598071516854400?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/4274598071516854400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=4274598071516854400' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4274598071516854400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/4274598071516854400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/12/actress.html' title='Actress'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3418233622247670727</id><published>2009-12-07T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-07T08:44:05.613-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Because I love her smile</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sx0whTjv3RI/AAAAAAAAAPw/UMPul0FJuic/s1600-h/gsmile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sx0whTjv3RI/AAAAAAAAAPw/UMPul0FJuic/s320/gsmile.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412535675913231634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I thought I'd share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the bye, I forgot to post her full name! Silly me. It is Gwendolyn Monet Hixon&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3418233622247670727?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3418233622247670727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3418233622247670727' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3418233622247670727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3418233622247670727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/12/because-i-love-her-smile.html' title='Because I love her smile'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sx0whTjv3RI/AAAAAAAAAPw/UMPul0FJuic/s72-c/gsmile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-3329084988895860843</id><published>2009-12-04T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T18:17:06.649-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Copycat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sxm_WKW0NAI/AAAAAAAAAPo/FooAtcEHz1A/s1600-h/ashpen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sxm_WKW0NAI/AAAAAAAAAPo/FooAtcEHz1A/s320/ashpen.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411566814720439298" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Asher phrase: "Thanks, Honey!" &lt;br /&gt;Glad to know Dan and I are obviously thanking each other for things around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the record, things pop out of his mouth that I'm sure we've never said before as well. Like the other day he brought me a shirt from the laundry room and said "Here's your favorite shirt, Momma!" (I've worn that shirt twice in the last month. Not a favorite.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-3329084988895860843?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/3329084988895860843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=3329084988895860843' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3329084988895860843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/3329084988895860843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/12/copycat.html' title='Copycat'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/Sxm_WKW0NAI/AAAAAAAAAPo/FooAtcEHz1A/s72-c/ashpen.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-7009567325700745976</id><published>2009-11-27T10:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T21:49:02.334-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing You</title><content type='html'>I used to teach voice lessons in Santa Barbara, so I was singing in my apartment every day. I love to sing. And I wouldn't call myself a pianist, but I can fake it well enough to accompany people most of the time. I love to play the piano even though I'm not great at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The piano we used in SB didn't belong to us. We had to leave it behind, so I have been without a piano for six months. Besides singing in &lt;i&gt;Joseph&lt;/i&gt; I haven't been using the old vocalizer very often, and I've been playing the piano even less. Lately I've really been missing having a piano in my life.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SxCxiKTQ_EI/AAAAAAAAAPY/T6Bc5fxhAow/s1600/Picture+9.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 221px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SxCxiKTQ_EI/AAAAAAAAAPY/T6Bc5fxhAow/s320/Picture+9.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409018352910793794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a Steinway &amp; Sons baby grand piano. It is the piano I would buy if I had a million dollars. I would of course be very happy with something less expensive right now. I miss singing every day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-7009567325700745976?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/7009567325700745976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=7009567325700745976' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7009567325700745976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/7009567325700745976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/11/missing-you.html' title='Missing You'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SxCxiKTQ_EI/AAAAAAAAAPY/T6Bc5fxhAow/s72-c/Picture+9.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1026989841244594740.post-691361551428822111</id><published>2009-11-24T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T13:44:09.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New favorite</title><content type='html'>I loved these books. I cannot wait for the third in the series.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SwxSIJqVjPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/FRcpSB9tFaE/s1600/Picture+8.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SwxSIJqVjPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/FRcpSB9tFaE/s320/Picture+8.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407787552551046386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SwxSHjRWLWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/4-JQt3QZYtA/s1600/Picture+7.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SwxSHjRWLWI/AAAAAAAAAPI/4-JQt3QZYtA/s320/Picture+7.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407787542245682530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my opinion, these blow the &lt;i&gt;Twilight&lt;/i&gt; books out of the water. &lt;br /&gt;Until, of course, someone makes a terrible movie about &lt;i&gt;The Hunger Games&lt;/i&gt; and all the actors end up in the tabloids and no one can stop talking about the immature, mediocre actors and how hot they look with their shirts off. Then it will be pretty much exactly like &lt;i&gt;Twilight.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1026989841244594740-691361551428822111?l=jamiehixon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/feeds/691361551428822111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1026989841244594740&amp;postID=691361551428822111' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/691361551428822111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1026989841244594740/posts/default/691361551428822111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jamiehixon.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-favorite.html' title='New favorite'/><author><name>jamie hixon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11809292948395197113</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SWWET1XfEEI/AAAAAAAAAC0/IhvsRtIiNhQ/S220/me.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_yRDBu4CGzbU/SwxSIJqVjPI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/FRcpSB9tFaE/s72-c/Picture+8.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
