<?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-3128599812290410953</id><updated>2011-07-07T22:38:20.254-07:00</updated><category term='Bennett and James'/><title type='text'>Mark and Lindsay Horne</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4988613080236167580</id><published>2010-02-14T22:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-05-29T23:58:14.219-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At least he has a goal</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/S3jug4te61I/AAAAAAAAA80/o1ZutmKWrdE/s1600-h/P1000487.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/S3jug4te61I/AAAAAAAAA80/o1ZutmKWrdE/s320/P1000487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438358798796254034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/S3jtbAaP7jI/AAAAAAAAA8s/N2HqFw7AC14/s1600-h/P1000466.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/S3jtbAaP7jI/AAAAAAAAA8s/N2HqFw7AC14/s320/P1000466.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438357598272220722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Dad calls Bennett a "thinker".  He thinks through everything, almost to a fault.  Ever since he was teeny tiny you could watch him and see that he was looking at a situation and analyzing it--mostly evaluating his risk for injury.   Because of this he is very cautious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have hesitated taking Bennett skiing because of this.  We were scared that he would get up on the mountain and see the potential for injury or just have a bad experience and never want to go back (he has a very LONG memory unfortunately!).  Well, a few weeks ago Bennett had his first ski lesson with his Uncle Josh.  We were pleasantly surprised, he loved it!  He is also pretty good.  It is so exciting to see my child doing and enjoying something that Mark and I love doing so much.  He has had another lesson and will continue lessons through out the rest of the ski season.   Now that I have seen how much he likes it, I have big plans to be a really cool Mom and take my kids out of school on really good snow days for a day of skiing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of being cool.  I think I am going to have to do a lot of cool things to make Bennett think I am deserving of the term "cool".  Today he came to me with his most serious face and said "Mom, I don't want to be like you when I get big.  I want to be like Dad."  I asked " so what's that?" (naively thinking he would say it was because I was a girl and Mark is a boy) and he quickly responded "Cool.  I don't want to be like you, I want to be cool like Dad." Sweet!  Although that is a great goal (being as cool as his Dad), I was a little surprised to hear that.  Thanks pal.  I will remember that the next time you are begging for a toy at the store, because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unfortunately&lt;/span&gt; for you, I too have a very LONG memory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-4988613080236167580?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4988613080236167580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4988613080236167580' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4988613080236167580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4988613080236167580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2010/02/at-least-he-has-goal.html' title='At least he has a goal'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/S3jug4te61I/AAAAAAAAA80/o1ZutmKWrdE/s72-c/P1000487.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-6994739234843662826</id><published>2009-11-02T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T09:18:48.547-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bennett and James'/><title type='text'>How I know Bennett and James are the son's of a CPA</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Su8UBn6ea3I/AAAAAAAAA7c/7lHtyV6MbOM/s1600-h/DSC_3819.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Su8UBn6ea3I/AAAAAAAAA7c/7lHtyV6MbOM/s320/DSC_3819.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399556496367184754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason one of the boys very favorite activities is playing on Mark's Ten Key--which is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CPA's&lt;/span&gt; best friend.  This morning I passed by the office at our house and overheard the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bennett typing in some numbers on the Ten Key says "James, according to my Ten Key there is a spaceship headed this way."  James replies with "Oh no!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep folks, you better watch out.  Those Ten Key's don't lie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-6994739234843662826?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/6994739234843662826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=6994739234843662826' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6994739234843662826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6994739234843662826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2009/11/how-i-know-bennett-and-james-are-sons.html' title='How I know Bennett and James are the son&apos;s of a CPA'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Su8UBn6ea3I/AAAAAAAAA7c/7lHtyV6MbOM/s72-c/DSC_3819.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-8481024636917186964</id><published>2009-10-16T23:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T23:59:37.137-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bennett and James'/><title type='text'>Bennett's hypothesis</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StlnhdZtn0I/AAAAAAAAA7M/9d9vC_UhztE/s1600-h/P1000046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StlnhdZtn0I/AAAAAAAAA7M/9d9vC_UhztE/s320/P1000046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393455853278699330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bennett boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;For dinner tonight we went to Cafe Rio.  When I say we went to Cafe Rio, I mean we called in an order and went to pick it up (Mark and I are not dumb enough to take our 3 wild boys into Cafe Rio and wait 10 years in line just so they can throw rice and beans at total strangers!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the fortune of going in to pick up the food.  While I was inside, James said "Dad where is Mom?"  Bennett replied "James, I have a hypothesis.  I think that it is so crowded inside Cafe Rio, that Mom can't come out."  To which James replied in classic James fashion, "oh".   When I got to the car, Mark told me of this little exchange and Bennett asked "was I right, Mom?"  I said "Bennett, your hypothesis was correct!"  I have a feeling I am going to be hearing a lot of hypotheses coming from this kid down the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two minutes later, James chimed in and said "Mom, I have a great idea...what's the big idea?"  I don't know where they get this stuff, but it sure is cracking me up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James has also decided he is a hypnotist apparently.  He will put his forehead against your forehead and squint and say "look into my eyes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Stlqqs0sVII/AAAAAAAAA7U/CfUN8TZH1sM/s1600-h/DSC_3078.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Stlqqs0sVII/AAAAAAAAA7U/CfUN8TZH1sM/s320/DSC_3078.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393459310572098690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jamesy Bear&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/3128599812290410953-8481024636917186964?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/8481024636917186964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=8481024636917186964' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8481024636917186964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8481024636917186964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2009/10/bennetts-hypothesis.html' title='Bennett&apos;s hypothesis'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StlnhdZtn0I/AAAAAAAAA7M/9d9vC_UhztE/s72-c/P1000046.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2724085011883257854</id><published>2009-10-16T22:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T23:39:23.394-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September</title><content type='html'>I am back.  I don't know for how long, but at least posting about September--&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" &gt;that is of 2008&lt;/span&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;September is always a great month for us. We celebrate both Bennett and Mark's birthdays, we go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BYU&lt;/span&gt; football games, we go up the canyon a lot, and this year was extra great because we had a wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parent's visit:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parent's were flying to California for a Mission President's conference and happened to have a 4 hour layover in Salt Lake, so we all got together and had lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaWCnnwr21I/AAAAAAAAA3o/4rcY7F5QI3k/s1600-h/the+ladies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306791353125690194" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaWCnnwr21I/AAAAAAAAA3o/4rcY7F5QI3k/s320/the+ladies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All of the girls at lunch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bennett's 3rd Birthday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up early to make Bennett the yummiest homemade whole wheat waffles.  When I went to put them his waffles on his "You are Special Today" plate, he started crying.  He said he wanted flax seed--His most favorite food in the world is flax seed cereal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrDEex02EI/AAAAAAAAA4c/PiJm_qsNEiI/s1600-h/DSC_1517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrDEex02EI/AAAAAAAAA4c/PiJm_qsNEiI/s320/DSC_1517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389334385851160642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrEIIbXfDI/AAAAAAAAA4k/nXYbwHdU-ko/s1600-h/DSC_1523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrEIIbXfDI/AAAAAAAAA4k/nXYbwHdU-ko/s320/DSC_1523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389335548082486322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bennett then had preschool.  He got to wear a birthday crown the whole time and his teacher gave him a book for his birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main part of the big day was Bennett's birthday party at my friend, Rebecca's, Alpaca farm.  It was awesome.  The kids loved petting, feeding, and sitting on the alpaca's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrFrO0unlI/AAAAAAAAA4s/Exa8SZ42zAA/s1600-h/DSC_1525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrFrO0unlI/AAAAAAAAA4s/Exa8SZ42zAA/s320/DSC_1525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389337250606521938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrKFC2f00I/AAAAAAAAA48/ZX8jWKcVl6Q/s1600-h/DSC_1555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrKFC2f00I/AAAAAAAAA48/ZX8jWKcVl6Q/s320/DSC_1555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389342092115825474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrJJ1ym63I/AAAAAAAAA40/4_G6tc5I-8A/s1600-h/DSC_1566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrJJ1ym63I/AAAAAAAAA40/4_G6tc5I-8A/s320/DSC_1566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389341074997570418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrOBW5uMvI/AAAAAAAAA5E/W2Nu93tqsV4/s1600-h/DSC_1616.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrOBW5uMvI/AAAAAAAAA5E/W2Nu93tqsV4/s320/DSC_1616.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389346426825093874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Canyon:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The canyon is an awesome activity for our boys.  They could throw rocks into the river all day long.  We headed up the canyon several times during September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306792482890808562" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 213px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaWDpYdrfPI/AAAAAAAAA3w/GbYMqzxqgSY/s320/DSC_1719.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306793107595420706" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 213px; height: 320px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaWENvq3ZCI/AAAAAAAAA34/VCMjLgh12_g/s320/DSC_1723.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306869935658802674" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 213px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaXKFugknfI/AAAAAAAAA4A/tfD9dAJ6xsM/s320/DSC_1665.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Hiking:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our backyard.  The boys think that "hiking" in our backyard in the greatest thing in the world!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306873708607672754" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 213px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaXNhV1rkbI/AAAAAAAAA4I/K2ESf9sySe8/s320/DSC_1417.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and Holly's Wedding Dinner:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their dinner was at Deer Valley.  It was strange not having my Dad there, but he made a little video for Josh and Holly that was so darling I thought I was going to die!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljYF3w1BI/AAAAAAAAA6s/J1brisS9iko/s1600-h/DSC_1882.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljYF3w1BI/AAAAAAAAA6s/J1brisS9iko/s320/DSC_1882.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393451294296953874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My little crew&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrO4ZzdFSI/AAAAAAAAA5M/DO7XqHd6dGg/s1600-h/DSC_1650.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrO4ZzdFSI/AAAAAAAAA5M/DO7XqHd6dGg/s320/DSC_1650.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389347372496917794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;James turned around and saw this cutout of my Dad at their dinner and yelled "Papa".  He was grinning from ear to ear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljOthAgiI/AAAAAAAAA6k/G1aNn-Bt98Y/s1600-h/DSC_1875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljOthAgiI/AAAAAAAAA6k/G1aNn-Bt98Y/s320/DSC_1875.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393451133140238882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The happy couple with my Mom and cardboard Dad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark's Birthday/Josh and Holly's wedding:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StlhAKHfsnI/AAAAAAAAA6c/WS25ePuH83U/s1600-h/DSC_1659.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StlhAKHfsnI/AAAAAAAAA6c/WS25ePuH83U/s320/DSC_1659.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393448684096565874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mark eating his birthday breakfast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marks birthday was the same day as Josh and Holly's wedding.  Mark got up insanely early and went mountain biking (waking up early sounds like the start of a horrible birthday to me, but whatever!).  I made him a yummy breakfast and then we headed to Salt Lake for Josh and Holly's ceremony.  After the temple, my Mom took us all to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Nordstrom&lt;/span&gt; for lunch for Mark's birthday.  After lunch we shopped for a little bit and then headed to the reception.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljkB_1FjI/AAAAAAAAA60/DQm3YOQSiUE/s1600-h/DSC_1940.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljkB_1FjI/AAAAAAAAA60/DQm3YOQSiUE/s320/DSC_1940.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393451499415475762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mark and I outside the Temple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and Holly's reception was beautiful.  Holly looked awesome!  Once again, it was strange not having my Dad there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Stljprw9wXI/AAAAAAAAA68/SvPVcwdBmOU/s1600-h/DSC_1961.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Stljprw9wXI/AAAAAAAAA68/SvPVcwdBmOU/s320/DSC_1961.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393451596526764402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljvV_D9FI/AAAAAAAAA7E/Bl_2I06GR9I/s1600-h/DSC_2010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/StljvV_D9FI/AAAAAAAAA7E/Bl_2I06GR9I/s320/DSC_2010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393451693759525970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My family at the reception&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is it for September, at least I think--it was over a year ago!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/3128599812290410953-2724085011883257854?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2724085011883257854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2724085011883257854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2724085011883257854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2724085011883257854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2009/10/september.html' title='September'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaWCnnwr21I/AAAAAAAAA3o/4rcY7F5QI3k/s72-c/the+ladies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5315411266353883292</id><published>2009-02-23T14:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T09:25:28.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Update Continued...August</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;August was a great month. We started out the month by finding out we were expecting our third child. We ended the month with Bennett starting preschool. We had a few fun things in between, mostly just a lot of playing outside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Birthday:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306130696487069186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMpwV_oZgI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/1KLDwDmimDY/s320/IMGP0756.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Apparently my boys did not get the memo that it was my birthday, because they sure did seem extra naughty. It may just be that I do not believe you should have to do anything you don't want to on your birthday--I did A LOT of things I didn't want to that day. I changed 13 diapers, 8 of which were the really bad kind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark did get the memo that it was my birthday and he did a great job. He took me to the big city (SLC) and we went to dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse. It was AWESOME! We were going to go to a movie, but being 6 weeks pregnant I didn't feel so hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Ashley's graduation:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306785226180515762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 222px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaV9C_HH17I/AAAAAAAAA3Y/UVRncAZHslQ/s320/edit1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Jen, Bennett, Heidi, Grammy, Ashley, Me, James, Jaimee, Kate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ashley graduated from BYU in August and since our parents are busy parenting 200 missionaries in Washington, we made it a sibling event with Grammy Belnap. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306785863485200242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaV9oFQZl3I/AAAAAAAAA3g/TvK14zvWzrM/s320/IMGP0817.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;James was very proud&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306784652631272658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaV8hmeU7NI/AAAAAAAAA3Q/cOuPtstTPTo/s320/DSC_1235.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent a lot of time outside in August. Mainly because I felt so crappy and the boys were able to entertain themselves while I laid on the grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306132473552872866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMrXyFIpaI/AAAAAAAAA2g/gJ2tODjobho/s320/DSC_1286.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306133748482248450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMsh_j_DwI/AAAAAAAAA2o/U_Xvqbn-IWI/s320/DSC_1283.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306134420621238738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMtJHeaIdI/AAAAAAAAA2w/5mU2oykHs7Q/s320/DSC_1318.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;For some reason James thought climbing up the stairs and sliding down on his bum was the greatest thing ever. He did it over and over everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bennett's First Day of Preschool:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306135834432327858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMubaVPULI/AAAAAAAAA3A/rQgZvKK6g-Q/s320/DSC_1358.JPG" border="0" /&gt;This was a hard day for me. I couldn't believe he was old enough for preschool. He was so excited. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306135091267797650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMtwJ1AgpI/AAAAAAAAA24/1JwRB9gqles/s320/DSC_1346.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett getting a good luck lick from Stanley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-5315411266353883292?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5315411266353883292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5315411266353883292' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5315411266353883292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5315411266353883292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2009/02/update-continuedaugust.html' title='Update Continued...August'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SaMpwV_oZgI/AAAAAAAAA2Y/1KLDwDmimDY/s72-c/IMGP0756.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-8180626229369698682</id><published>2009-01-29T02:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T01:42:10.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The updating begins...we'll start in July</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;So it has been about 8 or 9 months since I have really blogged. I just didn't feel like it. I guess it is time to catch this thing up since it is supposed to be my journal. Well...let's start in July since I don't really remember June. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July 4th&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hit up the best 4th of July breakfast and parade to celebrate the USA! You better believe we woke up bright and early and made the 1 hour drive. You also better believe that I cried when the service men and women rode past while the fighter jets flew overhead. I learned that James does not love 1,000 degree weather and that Bennett doesn't mind the heat as long as people are throwing him candy. My sister, Jen, took charge of Bennett on the side of the street to ensure he got plenty of candy. In true Aunt Jen style, she decided Bennett could eat all of the candy he gathered. He gathered A LOT! Bennett was sitting on Jen's shoulders when he suddenly announced "uh, Jen I think this candy is makin' me sick." That's okay because I got the rest of his candy. After the parade we made the hour drive back and joined Mark's family for a great barbecue and fireworks. I am dumb, and forgot my camera for the latter part of the 4th. Maybe someone will take pity on me and send me some pictures they took of my children from that evening (hint hint). On the fifth of July, we had a little Horne reunion at the park by my house. We set up a make shift slip and slide which was AWESOME. It was insanely long and really steep and everyone loved it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252954760217981810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOY-hef9c3I/AAAAAAAAAkY/XySTRY9QXcE/s320/bigger.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Bennett and I at the Kaysville parade--He was totally Mr. Patriotic. To me, that is what the 4th of July should look like--little kids with American flags and dirty faces from candy and treats&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252954886909650370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOY-o2dm5cI/AAAAAAAAAkg/xIHwpaZqB00/s320/n17805543_35551771_7829.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;James and my little sister, Ashley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252955293395898722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOY_Agve0WI/AAAAAAAAAko/XyiiUddUe20/s320/CIMG1799%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;James and I taking in the action of the Kaysville parade--I realize he looks like he is going to pass out, but we kept him hydrated and he was fine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296638899692328498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFxBDetVjI/AAAAAAAAA1o/KlvoZiw_x78/s320/IMG_3891%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett with some of his Horne cousins waiting for it to be dark enough for fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296634896652214738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFtYC_kodI/AAAAAAAAA04/I3XNL_Q86x4/s320/IMG_3928%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett and Grandma Horne watching the fireworks&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296637435449075042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFvr0v6ZWI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/2iseix0Erbk/s320/DSC_1343.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Bennett and Grandma Horne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296638032352675826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFwOkY0h_I/AAAAAAAAA1Y/hHhyGMXpPq0/s320/DSC_1350.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Me and my Jamesy Bear--we couldn't be bothered with the slip and slide&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296636660136255714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFu-se7oOI/AAAAAAAAA1I/OIo0vWDZfJk/s320/DSC_1314.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett going solo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296636045150151218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFua5e0YjI/AAAAAAAAA1A/9a17bZU87DE/s320/DSC_1222.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Mark and Bennett &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296638693941105298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFw1E_y0pI/AAAAAAAAA1g/v33HarDQJs8/s320/DSC_1374.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Me with my American Flag cake that I make every 4th of July &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Swimming Lessons&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252963701842447106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOZGp8pXCwI/AAAAAAAAAlA/-XPIwPxTnKo/s320/DSC_1391.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I enrolled the boys in a two week swimming class in the middle of July. James and I took a Mom and Tot class while Bennett enjoyed swimming with his teacher and his assistant "the lady". The lady was this super cute 17-year-old girl who Bennett LOVED! Bennett didn't so much love lessons. When I would spy on him during his lessons, I would see his class playing Ring Around the Rosy. His class was sitting so that the water would be up to their shoulders and then there was Bennett. They were all holding hands and then two little children had to hold their arms up high because Bennett was just standing. He would bend over to blow his bubbles. I didn't enroll him with the thought that he would be swimming laps by the end, it was just for something to do in the hot weather. James on the other hand was a crazy man. He would slam his face into the water and then bring his head up catch a breath and then it was back under the water for him. He was constantly trying to swim away. Bennett really enjoyed the last day of swimming because he got to go on the water slide with "the lady".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252961070186541698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOZEQw9ssoI/AAAAAAAAAkw/XClrkP_ww5k/s320/DSC_1381.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252962328437358370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOZFaAUEfyI/AAAAAAAAAk4/INs4gere7_g/s320/DSC_1390.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Washington trip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We packed up and hit the road for a trip to visit my Mission President parents in Washington. We had a great time. We did a lot of bike riding along the Columbia River which was AWESOME! They have so many great biking trails. The boys did some impromptu swimming in the river. I really think I could live along the Columbia river. There are these great houses all along the river and they all have their own private boat docks. That is my idea of living! A real miracle occurred while we were in Washington...Mark and I went on two dates! We left the boys with the missionaries (not the elders-my parents) and we saw two movies and went out to eat. It was great. I LOVE visiting my parents in the mission field. There is the greatest spirit and it is cool to be around people who are doing the Lord's work 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296632206575934738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFq7draHRI/AAAAAAAAA0o/W2Z5EqaP-58/s320/DSC_1553.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Bennett got pretty emotional when it was time to leave. It seriously broke my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296633675049817074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYFsQ8K3U_I/AAAAAAAAA0w/sLuKwC9BR9E/s320/DSC_1547.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Jamesy Bear and Sister Belnap&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. George trip&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Over the 24th of July we had a Belnap sibling reunion. It is really so much more fun to travel when you have parents, but they will be back in 18 months. We spent four days swimming, playing guitar hero, hiking, and being really lazy. It was great. We had a really fun time. The highlights for Bennett were the squirt guns and having Mark around for four days straight.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296645431235643810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYF29PX_CaI/AAAAAAAAA2A/1lSRoQVlGLw/s320/IMGP0666.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The fam &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296645916813507346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYF3ZgSxOxI/AAAAAAAAA2I/T-evRK5qdbg/s320/IMGP0683.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The three Belnap cousins&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296644974725838098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYF2iqvkNRI/AAAAAAAAA14/wfnrzmyWUs8/s320/DSC_1537.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The most stoic baby in the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296644261312994578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SYF15JEsHRI/AAAAAAAAA1w/nZ3RXOhofAs/s320/DSC_1519.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Mark and Bennett on the slide&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-8180626229369698682?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/8180626229369698682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=8180626229369698682' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8180626229369698682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8180626229369698682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/10/updating-beginswell-start-in-july.html' title='The updating begins...we&apos;ll start in July'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SOY-hef9c3I/AAAAAAAAAkY/XySTRY9QXcE/s72-c/bigger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-69883681001616985</id><published>2008-12-14T12:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T12:47:04.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrity sighting.....at church</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SUVwngnv5WI/AAAAAAAAAzo/H5sp99F5Boc/s1600-h/DSC_1988.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279749962235635042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SUVwngnv5WI/AAAAAAAAAzo/H5sp99F5Boc/s320/DSC_1988.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Maybe my enjoyment of celebrity gossip and my hope of celebrity sightings has rubbed off on my three-year-old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today at church, Bennett and I were walking down the hallway when Bennett had a celebrity sighting--or at least he believes so. We were walking past this older gentleman when Bennett's eyes became huge and in his most excited voice he said "Mom...THAT WAS PRESIDENT MONSON! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT, THAT WAS PRESIDENT MONSON!" Too bad the old guy didn't hear Bennett, because I think that is a pretty good compliment. I was glad he didn't say what he usually does when he sees an old man..."Hey Mom, look at that Grandpa." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I sure like this Bennett kid!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-69883681001616985?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/69883681001616985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=69883681001616985' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/69883681001616985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/69883681001616985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/12/celebrity-sightingat-church.html' title='Celebrity sighting.....at church'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SUVwngnv5WI/AAAAAAAAAzo/H5sp99F5Boc/s72-c/DSC_1988.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-6442989433911150605</id><published>2008-11-18T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T23:11:59.728-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging.....hmmmm.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SSO5gzPjQaI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Tf3DSc6XgDg/s1600-h/DSC00541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SSO5gzPjQaI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Tf3DSc6XgDg/s320/DSC00541.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270259962115998114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;{Here is a little Christmas spirit picture that I have never posted.  Mark and I were asked to be Mary and Joseph in a live nativity a couple of years ago.  Our baby Jesus was 15 months old and Mary (me) was 6 months pregnant--they must have been desperate to fill the positions!}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Thoughts on blogging:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I wonder if I will ever blog again?  Maybe one day.  I just haven't felt like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I think it was blogging karma that made me have my camera stolen in Hawaii last month.  If I had blogged regularly I would have had all of those pictures downloaded!!  Grrrrr....why didn't I just blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-I think I will be blogging soon, but I am not holding my breath!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;P.S. Just in case I don't get around to blogging in the next four months, I am five months pregnant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;                   P.P.S. It's a boy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-6442989433911150605?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/6442989433911150605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=6442989433911150605' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6442989433911150605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6442989433911150605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/11/blogginghmmmm.html' title='Blogging.....hmmmm.......'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SSO5gzPjQaI/AAAAAAAAAzY/Tf3DSc6XgDg/s72-c/DSC00541.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-6720917832217055116</id><published>2008-10-24T14:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T14:28:18.754-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PRAY!!!</title><content type='html'>Everyone PLEASE say a PRAYER that we will get our camera back that we left in our rental car in Hawaii!!  The camera has priceless things on it like Bennett's 3rd birthday, Josh's wedding, James first time walking, our trip to Hawaii, and my 4th anniversary (etc., etc., etc.)!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;REALLY--Please pray that people will be honest and turn it in!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.  I will post one of these days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-6720917832217055116?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/6720917832217055116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=6720917832217055116' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6720917832217055116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6720917832217055116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/10/pray.html' title='PRAY!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4322572236077706676</id><published>2008-09-03T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-03T22:06:32.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My little Republican</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SL9qaN-NckI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/5kJBhBXqkt4/s1600-h/bigger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242025489942278722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SL9qaN-NckI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/5kJBhBXqkt4/s320/bigger.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 2-year-old might as well be a registered republican.  Tonight as we were watching the Republican National Convention, Bennett really got into Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Palin's&lt;/span&gt; speech.  At least five times he stood up on my bed and started clapping.  We told him several times that it was time to go to bed to which he replied "Mom, I just gotta finish this show."  The craziest thing was when Mark turned the channel to CNN and Bennett said "Dad, I want that Fox one again."  Yeah, he wanted Mark to turn it back to FOX News.  I agree with Bennett, I think Sarah &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Palin&lt;/span&gt; did an awesome job and it is about time the Republicans had something to be excited about!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SL9qNmR0a_I/AAAAAAAAAkI/PyED6h82iR0/s1600-h/momandbennett.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&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/3128599812290410953-4322572236077706676?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4322572236077706676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4322572236077706676' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4322572236077706676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4322572236077706676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/09/my-little-republican.html' title='My little Republican'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SL9qaN-NckI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/5kJBhBXqkt4/s72-c/bigger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-94658472615095350</id><published>2008-08-01T21:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T15:28:51.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bennett...you are very dramatic</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SJPrqrl5ibI/AAAAAAAAAj8/7YR9XFWezZw/s1600-h/DSC_1652.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229782710795995570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SJPrqrl5ibI/AAAAAAAAAj8/7YR9XFWezZw/s320/DSC_1652.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I feel as though I need to  start a series on this blog of the dramatic things that Bennett says. His latest thing is his response anytime I do something he doesn't want me to do or when I make him do something he doesn't want to do--If I take away a toy because he is using it like a baseball bat, anytime I put him in time out, etc. etc. etc! His response is complete and utter devastation and then he screams at the top of his lungs, "Mom, don't do this to me! You can't do this to me! How can you do this to me?" The first time he said it, I just started laughing. Now...I am starting to worry. Where did he learn this? Why is he so dramatic? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;.....Mark must be really dramatic because I know I'm not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-94658472615095350?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/94658472615095350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=94658472615095350' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/94658472615095350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/94658472615095350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/08/bennettyou-are-very-dramatic.html' title='Bennett...you are very dramatic'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SJPrqrl5ibI/AAAAAAAAAj8/7YR9XFWezZw/s72-c/DSC_1652.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5117764561344547024</id><published>2008-07-16T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T09:47:14.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Belnap's gettin' hitched!!!</title><content type='html'>My brother, Josh is getting married!!!  Her name is Holly and she is a Davis Dart!  This especially cool because I am the one who set them up...well, me and Stacy (her sister).  Josh is the first of the Belnap's to marry a Davis Dart (for those of you who don't know about Davis High School, it is more common than not for Davis Darts to marry Davis Darts).  I couldn't be happier for these two--they are so great together.....even though they won't look at/talk to anyone else when they are around each other.  CONGRATULATIONS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SH4k86CFF4I/AAAAAAAAAj0/TK_QgwNQCvE/s1600-h/CIMG1795.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223653246585083778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SH4k86CFF4I/AAAAAAAAAj0/TK_QgwNQCvE/s320/CIMG1795.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/3128599812290410953-5117764561344547024?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5117764561344547024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5117764561344547024' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5117764561344547024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5117764561344547024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/07/another-belnaps-gettin-hitched.html' title='Another Belnap&apos;s gettin&apos; hitched!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SH4k86CFF4I/AAAAAAAAAj0/TK_QgwNQCvE/s72-c/CIMG1795.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4734596400680039520</id><published>2008-06-23T00:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T13:17:52.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Elder Horne and Elder Horne</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9R59QY8hI/AAAAAAAAAjs/OaGfKg-yPfg/s1600-h/DSC_0973.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214976949656023570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9R59QY8hI/AAAAAAAAAjs/OaGfKg-yPfg/s320/DSC_0973.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9PlHgPKjI/AAAAAAAAAjU/2-ATpEQV5SQ/s1600-h/DSC_0934.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214974392606337586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9PlHgPKjI/AAAAAAAAAjU/2-ATpEQV5SQ/s320/DSC_0934.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nearly every time I talk to my Dad on the phone, he says "hey get those boys up here in the Mission Field so I can put them to work".  As Fathers Day was coming up, I thought I could put some missionary tags to use. I dressed the boys up, parted their hair, and put their tags on. I took pictures of them knocking on doors, doing Book of Mormon companion study, and other various things. I sent them to my Dad for Fathers Day and he really liked them. I thought it would be really cool if they could wear these tags on their missions, the tags their Papa gave them--I guess I will have to find a safe spot since Bennett wants to wear his everywhere right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214974998841169666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9QIZ54lwI/AAAAAAAAAjc/M_PyHOuouA0/s320/DSC_0951.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214973127206061234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9ObdhTRLI/AAAAAAAAAjE/jNlS1HozZ1E/s320/DSC_0906.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214973838801379874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9PE4a2IiI/AAAAAAAAAjM/8BkGMeZe-yI/s320/DSC_0917.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214975588817368258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9QqvvK9MI/AAAAAAAAAjk/Rxyoyqc4OWI/s320/DSC_1003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&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/3128599812290410953-4734596400680039520?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4734596400680039520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4734596400680039520' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4734596400680039520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4734596400680039520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/06/elder-horne-and-elder-horne.html' title='Elder Horne and Elder Horne'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9R59QY8hI/AAAAAAAAAjs/OaGfKg-yPfg/s72-c/DSC_0973.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-9151792258995856508</id><published>2008-06-22T23:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T23:04:35.987-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James twelve month well check</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214970205663323922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9LxZ7O5xI/AAAAAAAAAi8/pAJ7CT6JbW4/s320/DSC_0762.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This was the first time James ever climbed into the dishwasher, but now he pulls the drawer out and really gets inside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James had his twelve month well check last week and he is doing very well. The last three well checks for James have started out the same way--The doctor walks in and pauses for a moment and then says "Well.....James is a big boy." Every time I think &lt;em&gt;duh!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James isn't fat, he is just solid and thick. His legs somewhat resemble tree trunks and his fingers are like sausages, but it is so adorable. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James weighed in at 27 pounds and nearly 32 inches which to give you a comparison, at Bennett's twelve month well check he was 21.5 pounds and 29.5 inches. Right now James only weighs three pounds less than his two-year-old brother. Bennett and James wear some of the same clothes. They wear the same size diaper, however I think it won't be too much longer until James will need the next size up. My Dad and I were joking the other day that by the time James is two he will have to wear Depends so they will be big enough. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor checked James ears and said he had a double ear infection which I was totally surprised by. James is such a calm baby, I never would have known he had an ear infection. He is now taking antibiotics for the first time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James is now a stair master--kind of. He climbs as fast and as far as he can before I rush to pull him off the stairs. He thinks it is a game and laughs hysterically when he hears me coming. The problem is, he is so proud of himself that he stands up and puts his hands in the air with a big grin on his face like he is looking at how far he has climbed and then falls down the stairs. James is definitely a harder baby than Bennett in that he is into EVERYTHING! If he finds something on the floor, he eats it. He climbs onto and into everything. He wants to do everything Bennett does and has a little too much faith in his abilities to walk around things and climb onto things. He is starting to defend himself. Yesterday, he was playing in my room and Bennett came toward him. I guess James felt like Bennett was invading his personal space, because he pushed Bennett and hard enough to make him fall over. Right then I had a vision of the fights I will be refereeing between two of them(hopefully not, but most likely).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-9151792258995856508?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/9151792258995856508/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=9151792258995856508' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/9151792258995856508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/9151792258995856508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/06/james-twelve-month-well-check.html' title='James twelve month well check'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9LxZ7O5xI/AAAAAAAAAi8/pAJ7CT6JbW4/s72-c/DSC_0762.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-1600913112070952280</id><published>2008-06-22T23:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T23:42:22.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fireman's Breakfast</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9ETGPLdcI/AAAAAAAAAis/zKAEK3bDDvk/s1600-h/P5300062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214961988400805314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9ETGPLdcI/AAAAAAAAAis/zKAEK3bDDvk/s320/P5300062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I get something in my head and I just have to do it. When I saw that there was a Fireman's Breakfast at our local fire station I just had to take the boys. Mark already had plans to go biking, but I was determined to go anyway. I thought I would be fine since I could just strap both the boys in the stroller. Well, once I got there I knew I was in way over my head. There were stairs everywhere and no room for strollers to even fit. Just imagine me carrying my 27 pound baby, two plates of food, two drinks, and trying to hold Bennett's hand. I am sure the people attending the breakfast were very entertained. I was holding stuff under my arms and clenching utensils in my mouth. It was pretty awesome. So we were eating breakfast, which was pretty tricky with two energetic boys, when in walked Smokey the Bear. I was so excited (I had a phase when I was really young when I was completely obsessed with Smokey the Bear and fire safety). We hurried and finished eating and I rushed the boys over to stand in line to shake hands with Smokey. After waiting for about five minutes we finally made it to Smokey. I was carrying James and holding Bennett's hand and suddenly both the boys looked up and started screaming. I have never seen James so scared in all of his life, he was shaking. I ended up having to carry both of them because they were so scared, but I did manage to get a picture with Smokey. Bennett got over the Smokey trauma quickly when he saw the fire engines and was able to sit in them and honk the horn.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214960979455210802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9DYXnzdTI/AAAAAAAAAic/dWk18DtpGOc/s320/P5300061.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The boys keeping their eye out for any sudden movements from Smokey&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214961684303988050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9EBZY2RVI/AAAAAAAAAik/dDMA2Swoc4k/s320/P5300066.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He was in here for about 15-20 minutes saying things like "hooray for the brave firemen" and "hurry go to the fire station" in his deep manly voice. He was also making those noises that boys are pretty much born able to do, but when I try to do them it comes out like a really dorky vroom vroom. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-1600913112070952280?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/1600913112070952280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=1600913112070952280' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1600913112070952280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1600913112070952280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/06/firemans-breakfast.html' title='Fireman&apos;s Breakfast'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF9ETGPLdcI/AAAAAAAAAis/zKAEK3bDDvk/s72-c/P5300062.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-723456908214248290</id><published>2008-06-22T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T23:17:54.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Zoo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF8636ZbVKI/AAAAAAAAAiE/hZiGAXNcvBo/s1600-h/P5290016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214951625761445026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF8636ZbVKI/AAAAAAAAAiE/hZiGAXNcvBo/s320/P5290016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I know it looks like I have some weird bow coming out of my head, but it is a giraffe.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I took the boys to the zoo a few weeks ago. It was so fun to see how excited Bennett got when he saw all the different animals and more importantly the train. I am pretty sure we could make the hour drive to SLC, ride the train, and drive the hour home and he would be happy as a clam! Bennett's favorite animal this time was the Cougar. I think this is because of his obsession with Cosmo Cougar--BYU's mascot. When we got to the cougar, this is how our conversation went:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Me: Bennett, look it is a cougar.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bennett: A cougar? Oh, what's his name? Is it Cosmo? Is that his friend? What's his friends name? Where's his clothes?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Me: Yeah, his name is Cosmo. That is his friend and her name is Carrie Cougar. I don't know where his clothes are?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bennett: Oh, his clothes are in the laundry room? His Mom forgot to wash them? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Me: Yep. (I suddenly realized he was wondering where the cougar's clothes were because every time he sees Cosmo, he is wearing clothes. I also realized that I probably say I forgot to wash clothes of his quite often--at least the clothes that I don't like, but that he is obsessed with)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-James made his first appearance at the zoo. He really liked the train, but didn't seem to care about anything else. He is such a good baby, he just chilled in the stroller for about 4 hours. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214955028014888706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF8998x29wI/AAAAAAAAAiM/aRnjovyOW8w/s320/P5290018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Me and the dudes on the train&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-I had my first shoplifting experience while at the zoo. We stopped at the souvenir shop because Bennett really wants a new ball cap (when I asked him what he wants for prizes for sitting on the potty, he said he wants new ball caps). Both the boys were strapped in the stroller and I just browsed through while driving the stroller around. I didn't find anything I liked so we left. About 30 minutes later I pulled the shade back where Bennett was sitting to find a big yellow surprise. He was just calmly sitting with the evidence on his head--He had apparently grabbed a hideous, bright yellow hat with a bird on it while I was browsing and decided to go for the old five finger discount. I was so scared. I got all nervous that the police were looking for me by this point so we booked it back to the souvenir shop and quietly put the hat back. Bennett was devastated, but there was no way I was buying that hat--not even if it inspired him to be potty trained that minute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-723456908214248290?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/723456908214248290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=723456908214248290' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/723456908214248290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/723456908214248290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/06/zoo.html' title='The Zoo'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SF8636ZbVKI/AAAAAAAAAiE/hZiGAXNcvBo/s72-c/P5290016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-7739729866732414145</id><published>2008-06-06T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T14:51:04.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James Birth Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208821068704726450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElzKhq3PbI/AAAAAAAAAh0/PIiMocanYTA/s320/edit17.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The birthday boy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James had quite the party. We have called him "Jamesy bear" since day one, so we decided to have a teddy bear themed party. He even had a teddy bear on his shirt. It was a great day. We can't get enough of this sweet boy. He is such a happy baby and has a huge, funny personality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208817469870059778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElv5C90MQI/AAAAAAAAAgs/5MhfpO7FWOs/s320/DSC_0799.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When we heard him jabbering, we all &lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;ran&lt;/span&gt; up to his room. This was the first picture we got of the new 1-year-old. He has a little bed head going on, but he sure is a cute one!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208818283240934642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElwoZAizPI/AAAAAAAAAg0/EwTkgFQLrVg/s320/DSC_0818.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bennett wanted to get into the crib with James&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208819037407643746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElxUSf5iGI/AAAAAAAAAg8/bBaBr8gWZTs/s320/DSC_0828.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mark read a few books to the boys to start the day out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208821404757634690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElzeFkHroI/AAAAAAAAAh8/z3wcQpungdc/s320/edit6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Offering some cake to everyone else&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEly_4R_1GI/AAAAAAAAAhs/hHD5ViDD6xE/s1600-h/edit15.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208820885795886178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEly_4R_1GI/AAAAAAAAAhs/hHD5ViDD6xE/s320/edit15.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love this picture! Notice where James' hands are. I think he was really over having a photo shoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208819880495295250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElyFXPqKxI/AAAAAAAAAhU/duUTNmr-WA0/s320/edit10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The teddy bear birthday cake before James got to it&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElyrmZzP8I/AAAAAAAAAhk/Yzzcn4MJGV0/s1600-h/edit5.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208820537399394242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElyrmZzP8I/AAAAAAAAAhk/Yzzcn4MJGV0/s320/edit5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He didn't quite know what to do with the cake at first. By the end it was completely destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElyYP5CWgI/AAAAAAAAAhc/19J_COLKy6w/s1600-h/edit8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208820204938877442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElyYP5CWgI/AAAAAAAAAhc/19J_COLKy6w/s320/edit8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; He kills me! He is so cute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208819337354771442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElxlv43e_I/AAAAAAAAAhE/2_evfCl3pcI/s320/edit1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This was the finished product--if you think he is dirty, you should have seen the tub after we bathed him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElxyDu6b0I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ddu26pnNK5I/s1600-h/edit2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208819548840161090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElxyDu6b0I/AAAAAAAAAhM/ddu26pnNK5I/s320/edit2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Me with the birthday boy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-7739729866732414145?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/7739729866732414145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=7739729866732414145' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/7739729866732414145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/7739729866732414145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/06/james-birth-day.html' title='James Birth Day'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SElzKhq3PbI/AAAAAAAAAh0/PIiMocanYTA/s72-c/edit17.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-8294026560795595724</id><published>2008-05-27T23:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T23:27:40.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lookin' good......</title><content type='html'>James is one-year-old tomorrow! As a pre-birthday post for him, I will post my favorite, most recent pictures of the cute little man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is the hair of a really good night's sleep:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205307155214000594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SDz3R11UYdI/AAAAAAAAAf8/oOhA62ulkfA/s320/DSC_0520.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205307765099356642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SDz31V1UYeI/AAAAAAAAAgE/fnN3ko4bsmM/s320/DSC_0534.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When Bennett saw first saw James he said "wow Mom, James hair is so big!" It sure was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James slept from 7:00pm until 9:10am. He has always been a good sleeper (he started sleeping through the night at two months), but never 14 hours--he is usually like clockwork 7:00pm to 7:00am. I was picking up the baby monitor and putting it to my ear roughly every 10 minutes to make sure I could hear him breathing. When I finally heard him say "Momma?", I ran upstairs to his room and about died when I saw his hair. He was in the funniest little mood too! He is so stinkin' cute I can hardly stand it. This year has blown by so quickly, I just want to freeze James in this time of his life. He is so fun, sweet, random, etc. We sure do like him--the good news is after our one year trial period, we have decided to keep him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-8294026560795595724?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/8294026560795595724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=8294026560795595724' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8294026560795595724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8294026560795595724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/05/lookin-good.html' title='Lookin&apos; good......'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SDz3R11UYdI/AAAAAAAAAf8/oOhA62ulkfA/s72-c/DSC_0520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2565735670273025906</id><published>2008-05-17T22:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T13:29:10.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Race for the Cure</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207008653752951298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEMCyF1UYgI/AAAAAAAAAgU/9H51uviLykA/s320/IMGP0334.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Breast Cancer really sucks, especially this year!!! My dear, sweet Grandma Belnap was diagnosed with Breast Cancer a little over a month ago. This is her third time battling Breast Cancer and I cannot believe what a fighter she is. She is such an awesome example of faith, persistence, grace, and many other things. My family decided to do Race for the Cure this year (we have done it before, but we had never done it while someone so close to it was fighting for their life against breast cancer) in celebration and honor of Grammy! It was a very emotional experience for me and I can say that I HATE breast cancer. Well, we love you Grammy--FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207008138356875762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEMCUF1UYfI/AAAAAAAAAgM/SNIXQ29H3hc/s320/IMGP0330.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207010689567449618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEMEol1UYhI/AAAAAAAAAgc/qlAEZCmcZ-0/s320/IMGP0335.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207011222143394338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEMFHl1UYiI/AAAAAAAAAgk/amPo7OY1HPE/s320/IMGP0339.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-2565735670273025906?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2565735670273025906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2565735670273025906' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2565735670273025906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2565735670273025906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/05/race-for-cure.html' title='Race for the Cure'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SEMCyF1UYgI/AAAAAAAAAgU/9H51uviLykA/s72-c/IMGP0334.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2405015428749625373</id><published>2008-05-17T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-21T21:39:51.491-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mothers Day</title><content type='html'>I had a great Mother's Day! I slept until 8:10 and only woke up because Bennett came in to my room and said "happy Momma's Day Momma. Come eat some befkquist (that is how he pronounces breakfast)." I got up and came into the kitchen to find a very impressive spread waiting for me, plus Bennett had a done a drawing for me as well. Then we got ready for church and arrived at 9:40 (even though our church starts at 9:00) because I refused to go to church on Mother's Day looking like a hag! We completed our worshiping and returned home and I went back to sleep. I had a great nap! I love to take naps especially now that I can't take them anymore. Because I know that Mark doesn't read this blog, I can say this--Mark could have just given me a nap for Mother's day and I would have thought it was the most awesome Mother's Day gift EVER! But since Mark doesn't read this blog he still has to give me awesome gifts and a nap for holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to the day...After I woke up, I just hung out with my two littlest pals--Bennett and James. I have a lot of fun being the Mom to these two little men, especially when they are behaving. While I hung out with the boys, Mark made dinner. Yeah, when he told me he was making dinner my first thought was &lt;em&gt;oh, maybe he has thought up a variation for a quesadilla&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was definitely wrong. Mark made steak, red potatoes, and vegetables. I was so impressed! After dinner we drove to Kaysville to visit my Grandma Belnap (remember we had no Mother's of our own to visit). We had a great time hanging out with my Grandparents and all of my extended family. I was very grateful to be with my Grandma Belnap because she-along with my Mother and Mark's Mother (and many, many other women)-has been an incredible example to me. I have a lot to live up to with these women who are incredible mothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201574937387245010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SC-02K-KndI/AAAAAAAAAfk/ZAS85Q-x4J4/s320/DSC_0656.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I love this picture because they are both mooing. Mark was trying to get their attention so he asked them what a cow says. They are very obedient children! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201575422718549474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SC-1Sa-KneI/AAAAAAAAAfs/HkoocPGeksU/s320/DSC_0676.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;This was my 1st Mother's Day with Jamesy Bear. What a joy he is!! Last Mother's Day I was so pregnant I nearly popped and this Mother's Day I have a 27 pound little/big boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201575938114625010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SC-1wa-KnfI/AAAAAAAAAf0/ZJ3oB9nvckI/s320/DSC_0751.JPG" border="0" /&gt; The Horne's with Grammy Belnap. We wish we could have visited Mark's Mom and my Mom as well, but apparently they were too busy being missionaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I had a great Mother's Day and I feel very lucky and blessed to be a Mother to these two amazing boys! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-2405015428749625373?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2405015428749625373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2405015428749625373' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2405015428749625373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2405015428749625373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mothers Day'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SC-02K-KndI/AAAAAAAAAfk/ZAS85Q-x4J4/s72-c/DSC_0656.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5798152479436208964</id><published>2008-05-17T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T21:19:16.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So that's what they are calling them these days</title><content type='html'>Bennett is entering a new phase in his life. He is becoming more aware of everything, but especially more aware of people. He is really into declaring whether something or someone is big or small, whether someone is a boy or girl, etc. I do realized that the day is quickly coming when I am going to experience public humiliation because he will ask if someone is a boy when that person is a girl or he will say something like "oh that person is big". But for now he is just sticking to pointing out things about the people who are always around him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...how do I put this delicately......Bennett has noticed some bumps on my chest (is that delicate enough?). The other day I was holding him and he patted my chest and looked at me with a very confused look on his face. He then said "Um, Mom are those your power packs?" Uh, what in the world are power packs, where did he learn the phrase power packs, and sure why not call them that! The next day I was holding him again and again he patted me on my chest and looked at me with a look of concern. He then said "Those soccer balls Mom? Are those my soccer balls?" I am very flattered that someone, anyone (even if it was a two-year-old) thought I was hiding two soccer balls under my shirt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201566974517878210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SC-tmq-KncI/AAAAAAAAAfc/g1niUVAzL1E/s320/DSC_0647.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Such a cute little man--I just wonder where he got power packs from?!?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-5798152479436208964?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5798152479436208964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5798152479436208964' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5798152479436208964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5798152479436208964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/05/so-thats-what-they-are-calling-them.html' title='So that&apos;s what they are calling them these days'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SC-tmq-KncI/AAAAAAAAAfc/g1niUVAzL1E/s72-c/DSC_0647.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3146443190735642584</id><published>2008-05-03T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T21:50:02.178-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor James</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SB07LkidsvI/AAAAAAAAAds/qyNQarotqPs/s1600-h/DSC_0485.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196374615028249330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SB07LkidsvI/AAAAAAAAAds/qyNQarotqPs/s320/DSC_0485.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture pretty much tells the story of James life. He watches Bennett running, jumping, dancing, being crazy and the entire time James looks absolutely desperate to join him. This picture is a frequent pose for James. This time he was trying to watch Bennett running by peeking over the back of his high chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James is such a sweet, patient, fun, and darling little boy. He is usually very patient as Bennett pokes, hugs (tackles), and kisses him. Every now and then he will let out a warning yell to Bennett and Bennett usually heeds the warning. I cannot believe he will be one year in just a few weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day while Bennett was saying a prayer, I heard James voice and opened one eye to find my sweet little 11-month-old sitting in his high chair folding his arms!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James is a crawling machine and is into everything! Today while I was making lunch, I heard what I thought was our dog, Stanley, eating his food. I just kept on making lunch until I realized that Stanley was outside. I ran to Stanley's food bowl to find James snacking on dog food and covered in Stanley's water. Oh well, I am sure there is some good protein in dog food right?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196375293633082114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SB07zEidswI/AAAAAAAAAd0/jFRkGAYPFI8/s320/DSC_0483.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Such a sweet little guy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-3146443190735642584?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3146443190735642584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3146443190735642584' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3146443190735642584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3146443190735642584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/05/poor-james.html' title='Poor James'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SB07LkidsvI/AAAAAAAAAds/qyNQarotqPs/s72-c/DSC_0485.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-9108982493779869118</id><published>2008-04-21T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T20:40:45.864-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good to know</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SA1csUidstI/AAAAAAAAAc8/k1kxQCeeo8s/s1600-h/DSC_0517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191907861925311186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SA1csUidstI/AAAAAAAAAc8/k1kxQCeeo8s/s320/DSC_0517.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bennett---what a fun/funny guy! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bennett has been saying and doing the funniest things lately. He seems so old these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FUNNY THINGS:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-While we were driving today, Bennett said to me "Mom, I don't want to run away okay!" I said "Okay pal, that is good to hear!" I keep thinking about what he said and these are the thoughts that are currently running through my head-- &lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;....was Bennett, my 2-year-old, considering running away? And if so, what changed his mind? And how does he know what running away is????? !!!! &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Yesterday, he said to Mark "Dad, you are the best ever" to which Mark replied "no, you are the best ever" to which Bennett emphatically replied "no, no, no, you are the best Dad--OKAY?!?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bennett has been quite indecisive about his brother lately. His latest thing is claiming James as his baby or disclaiming James as his baby. He will say "Mom, go away--this is my baby, we are having so much fun, okay" Other times he will say to me "Mom, take James--he is your baby, take your baby, take him, he is bugging me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;NOT SO FUNNY:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-When he puts James in a headlock&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-When he threw his fork at my head during dinner tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-When he NEVER chooses me over Mark&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;SHOULDN'T BE FUNNY, BUT IT IS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-When he says "holy crap, Mom" when I slam on the brakes in the car&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-9108982493779869118?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/9108982493779869118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=9108982493779869118' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/9108982493779869118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/9108982493779869118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/04/good-to-know.html' title='Good to know'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SA1csUidstI/AAAAAAAAAc8/k1kxQCeeo8s/s72-c/DSC_0517.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3980974185304371768</id><published>2008-04-08T10:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T10:52:33.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James 1st Easter, Bennett's 1st Easter Egg Hunt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187299880454183026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z9wf3l2HI/AAAAAAAAAcU/kUlXPrOqRvM/s320/web5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The boys checking out their Easter loot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z7I_3l2DI/AAAAAAAAAb0/1PY5CdeYRHs/s1600-h/DSC_0460.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187297002826094642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z7I_3l2DI/AAAAAAAAAb0/1PY5CdeYRHs/s320/DSC_0460.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It is amazing how much excitement a new pack of crayons can generate!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We didn't get super festive this year, but we tried. Bennett, James, and I were all sick so all of the things I hoped to do went out the window. I did do a small Easter egg hunt for Bennett. I have never made Easter dinner--but when you are a missionary orphan you don't have a choice. I made ham, funeral potatoes, and the other usual Easter things. I didn't eat much of it, because I decided to dine on jelly beans and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cadbury&lt;/span&gt; mini eggs instead. In the end it was a pretty good day, but I will be glad when Mark's parents and my parents are home to make a real Easter feast. I was a very responsible parent and ate most of Bennett's candy so that he wouldn't. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This was James first Easter.  He loves taking things out of baskets, so he was in heaven.  I even let him have an extremely small sliver of my York Peppermint Patty.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187296397235705890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z6lv3l2CI/AAAAAAAAAbs/zKdTFhFJWLw/s320/edit1web.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187299120244971586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z9EP3l2EI/AAAAAAAAAb8/1LjsI08CSHM/s320/web2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James doing a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-feast work out&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187300713677838498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z-g_3l2KI/AAAAAAAAAcs/y1hJqIyPlVc/s320/web8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;James got some pretty awesome stuff including socks, a new toothbrush, and a new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cup.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187300941311105202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z-uP3l2LI/AAAAAAAAAc0/LDWzgV7gGas/s320/web9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I think he was happy with the goods.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187300198281762946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z-C_3l2II/AAAAAAAAAcc/Qx0wvweTI7w/s320/web6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I know James eyes are closed, but I think it just about the cutest picture of him.  He is so ridiculously cute!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187299373648042066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z9S_3l2FI/AAAAAAAAAcE/T4BXw2dkOfw/s320/web3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The Easter egg hunt&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187299618461177954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z9hP3l2GI/AAAAAAAAAcM/bFGlFDPc18w/s320/web4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I think having other kids running around during the hunt would add some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt;.  I will have to look into that!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187300430209996946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z-Qf3l2JI/AAAAAAAAAck/hhH93d7NeUo/s320/web7.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-3980974185304371768?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3980974185304371768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3980974185304371768' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3980974185304371768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3980974185304371768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/04/james-1st-easter-bennetts-1st-easter.html' title='James 1st Easter, Bennett&apos;s 1st Easter Egg Hunt'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R_z9wf3l2HI/AAAAAAAAAcU/kUlXPrOqRvM/s72-c/web5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5543776994012106972</id><published>2008-03-21T10:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T10:25:59.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.....Soon</title><content type='html'>I just cannot motivate myself to start updating this blog! It sounds VERY time consuming to update all the way back from Christmas. I really will start soon, but until then here are some recent pictures that of the crew. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180243573277730418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R-PsFXM4JnI/AAAAAAAAAbM/fGWwaO-Irk0/s320/mark+and+lindsay.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Mark and I at Deer Valley in February. We always have big plans to have many ski dates where it is just the two of us, but so far it has only happened once this year. Weird that we went on ski dates all the time while we were dating and right after we got married. What has changed.....oh yeah, two little dudes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180243375709234786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R-Pr53M4JmI/AAAAAAAAAbE/NQTY2q7lkJI/s320/DSC_0385.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett talking on his "cell phone"! It's actually a calculator that is made to look like a cell phone, but he loves it! He has these little conversations that are hilarious. He talks just like Mark. His most common dialogue goes like this: "Steve, Mark Horne here. Yeah, I'm just playing. I'm doing goooood. Okay see ya later."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180247073676076706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R-PvRHM4JqI/AAAAAAAAAbk/PP_KTT67W0c/s320/DSC_0357.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;James looks very serious here, but I attribute it to his missionary hairdo. When his hair is parted, he tends to be more serious and obedient.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180246489560524434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R-PuvHM4JpI/AAAAAAAAAbc/VsC_6aMCD5w/s320/james1.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;When his hair is in the hawk, he tends to be more rebellious and spazzy! His hawk is getting pretty tall.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-5543776994012106972?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5543776994012106972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5543776994012106972' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5543776994012106972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5543776994012106972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/03/soon.html' title='.....Soon'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R-PsFXM4JnI/AAAAAAAAAbM/fGWwaO-Irk0/s72-c/mark+and+lindsay.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-1203164209045617435</id><published>2008-03-06T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T21:58:50.516-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We are up and running again</title><content type='html'>Mark fixed my computer! This post is a quick update with a couple of my favorite pictures that I have taken in the last couple of weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174854651555014274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R9DG41Y25oI/AAAAAAAAAYw/WcITIvEWJ6A/s320/DSC_0327.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This kills me! Bennett wanted to feed James his bottle. I think (more like hope and pray) these two will be good friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174852778949273186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R9DFL1Y25mI/AAAAAAAAAYg/UTwrdZWYNwc/s320/DSC_0133.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;These two boys are looking at their idol--their Dad. Bennett looks a little perplexed, but I still love it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This bouncing, baby boy is NINE months old now! I can't believe how fast these nine months have gone by! He is such a good and happy baby. At his nine months appointment this week, he weighed 24 pounds! He is waving now; he does the sign for more and the sign for milk; he gives awesome/slobbery kisses; he says Mama, Dada, and baba; and he is DARLING!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bennett:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hmmm....where do I start. Bennett is great. He is totally TWO! He has a lot of energy and is saying really funny things. We were on our way to visit my brother when Bennett informed of some very interesting information. He said "Mom, I am going to be naughty at Joshy's" I started laughing and said "oh, you are?" To which he responded "yeah, I'm just going to be naughty okay." Well, thanks for the heads up pal! I wish that he always gave me the heads up on being naughty! My most favorite thing is to watch Bennett play with friends. He asks to have a friend come over at least 5 times a day. It is the cutest thing EVER to listen to him talk with his little friends. He had a friend over the other day and they were playing Foosball. They were just going back and forth saying "I scored", "nice shot", and "thanks"! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mark:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He is EAGERLY awaiting biking season. In fact, last month he had to go on a biking trip to St. George because he was so desperate for some biking. He has been working hard and is a cute husband and a great Dad! I just asked him what he wants me to write for his update and he said "I am working up the courage to write a post."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Me: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I am DESPERATE for warmer weather. I think I am going to need 4 or 5 trips to St. George until the warmth comes to Utah County. This is the most exciting thing in my life right now....my body is my own again. No pumping or feeding anymore!! I am actually having mixed emotions about it, but I do not in any way miss pumping. I am not really looking forward to updating this blog all the way back from Christmas, but I am bound and determined to do it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Family as a Whole:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The Horne's are now library members. We had to pay a hefty price because our city doesn't have a library, but it was worth it! Bennett is in a class at the library called "Wee Read" and we have become regulars at the library. The problem is Bennett just grabs books like crazy. Today, we ended up with 12 books. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I flew with the two boys all by myself last week. It was scary, but very much worth it. We flew to Washington to visit my parents who are Mission Presidents there. I will do a big post about it, but it was a great trip.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174855845555922578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R9DH-VY25pI/AAAAAAAAAY4/YO026IuVJyg/s320/DSC_0303.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;James and my Mom at the airport&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We are counting down the days to Mark's parents coming home from their mission. They are serving in Brazil and will be home in less than 2 months. It will be fun to see them. Bennett is a totally different kid and they have never even met Jamesy Bear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, this may not have seemed like a "quick" update, but trust me it is. I will hopefully be able to do a full update in the next couple of weeks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-1203164209045617435?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/1203164209045617435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=1203164209045617435' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1203164209045617435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1203164209045617435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-are-up-and-running-again.html' title='We are up and running again'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R9DG41Y25oI/AAAAAAAAAYw/WcITIvEWJ6A/s72-c/DSC_0327.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3620593781300542584</id><published>2008-03-05T21:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-05T21:31:11.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You have to try this place!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R8-BN1Y25lI/AAAAAAAAAYY/OxtI60Sux9Y/s1600-h/navLogo.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174496571541612114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R8-BN1Y25lI/AAAAAAAAAYY/OxtI60Sux9Y/s320/navLogo.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My friend, Jill, and I went to the greatest new restaurant this week called Max and Cheese! The food is REALLY good and you will enjoy the food even more if you have kids. This is a kid's cafe that has awesome food for kids and even better food for adults! The best part is.....they have a play area in the middle of the restaurant. They have awesome toys, it is very clean, and they have a little clothing boutique as well. I highly recommend it! It is in Orem, so if anyone wants to try it out, let me know--I am always looking for an excuse to go our for lunch.  Here is their website: &lt;a href="http://www.maxandcheese.com/"&gt;http://www.maxandcheese.com/&lt;/a&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/3128599812290410953-3620593781300542584?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3620593781300542584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3620593781300542584' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3620593781300542584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3620593781300542584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/03/you-have-to-try-this-place.html' title='You have to try this place!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R8-BN1Y25lI/AAAAAAAAAYY/OxtI60Sux9Y/s72-c/navLogo.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2776966939421382946</id><published>2008-02-16T12:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T18:49:59.065-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A post in the meantime</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well I still have not taken my computer in to be fixed. I am pretty sure it has some sort of virus. Until I get it fixed I will have to resort to taking pictures with my camera on my phone and then e-mailing them to myself. So, here is a post based around the pictures I have taken with my phone as of late:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167682057817353666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R7dLc7hc7cI/AAAAAAAAAXA/ZeVLGVULsdQ/s320/the+boys.bmp" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett is obsessed with his hat. On this trip to Costco, all three of the boys had their BYU hats on. Bennett wants to sing the "Bwhaoo Football Song" (that is how he says BYU when he is in a hurry--he tends not to enunciate when he is in a hurry) all day long. He did however wake up  the other morning and say "goooooo Utes". Mark was not happy to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167681688450166194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R7dLHbhc7bI/AAAAAAAAAW4/PKOkVI6fumA/s320/Jamesey+bear.bmp" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Look at this boy! I cannot get enough of him. James will only keep his hat on if I turn it to the side which I LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167681520946441634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R7dK9rhc7aI/AAAAAAAAAWw/rjVyryZyUV0/s320/James.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I love this picture of James! I just realized that it looks like he is smoking though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167681357737684370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R7dK0Lhc7ZI/AAAAAAAAAWo/Z_jHiFd--Mc/s320/bennett.bmp" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;This cracked me up! Bennett was drawing with his colored pencils and apparently found a great place to store them--behind his ear.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-2776966939421382946?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2776966939421382946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2776966939421382946' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2776966939421382946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2776966939421382946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/02/post-in-meantime.html' title='A post in the meantime'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R7dLc7hc7cI/AAAAAAAAAXA/ZeVLGVULsdQ/s72-c/the+boys.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-435654325437819573</id><published>2008-01-24T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T10:20:19.145-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This about killed me!</title><content type='html'>I was at a stop light the other day when I turned around and saw this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159108287913154802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R5jVp1rWWPI/AAAAAAAAAWM/Je3cX7jH28U/s320/01-10-08_1607%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I swear I have never seen anything this cute ever ever ever!  They held hands the entire way home.  These two are so cute together lately.  Bennett brings James toys all day long and James just sits and watches Bennett run and run and run.  Don't get me wrong, James is still a little apprehensive about Bennett--James usually starts crying when he sees Bennett coming and then it is a pleasant surprise for him when he doesn't get sat on or squeezed!  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-435654325437819573?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/435654325437819573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=435654325437819573' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/435654325437819573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/435654325437819573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-about-killed-me.html' title='This about killed me!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R5jVp1rWWPI/AAAAAAAAAWM/Je3cX7jH28U/s72-c/01-10-08_1607%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4694755888587096800</id><published>2008-01-10T23:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T00:01:47.667-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If you are having a bad day..........watch this</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/q_q69DDT8I4"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/q_q69DDT8I4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I can't put new pictures on because my card reader is being weird, I thought I would put on an oldie, but a goodie!  This is Bennett's version of crawling.  He started scooting when he was about ten months old.  He was really fast!  It was about the funniest thing I have ever seen.  To entertain himself, he would play fetch--he would throw the ball and then scoot after it.  Mark called him Lieutenant Dan (from Forest Gump).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-4694755888587096800?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4694755888587096800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4694755888587096800' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4694755888587096800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4694755888587096800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/01/blog-post.html' title='If you are having a bad day..........watch this'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4107811512459955274</id><published>2008-01-10T22:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T23:26:57.492-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ooooh Dear?!?!?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R4caEaFvuOI/AAAAAAAAAV4/OGwrB1pyU00/s1600-h/DSC_0578.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154116961574041826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R4caEaFvuOI/AAAAAAAAAV4/OGwrB1pyU00/s320/DSC_0578.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R4cUkKFvuNI/AAAAAAAAAVw/Jv15Fi-R7ug/s1600-h/imageCreateCAP2TT71%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Bennett man! How can you say no to him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R4cRy6FvuMI/AAAAAAAAAVo/KVqGk6eN6fQ/s1600-h/DSC_1186.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, as of late, Bennett has become obsessed with "kiss it better". It is a good and a bad thing. It is good because when he gets hurt he is totally over it as soon as I kiss it better and it is pretty cute. It is a bad thing for many more reasons however. He now thinks it is okay to "accidentally" hurt James and me (never Mark because Mark is his idol) because he can always kiss it better. He also wants the kiss to be exactly where he got hurt. Another bad reason I found came a couple of days ago while we were eating lunch. All of the sudden Bennett dropped his sandwich and started bawling. I kept saying "what happened? What's wrong?" Then it happened, he said "kiss it better mom" and then he stuck his tongue out. I started laughing so hard which made him even more sad, so I kissed his tongue and he was totally fine and went back to eating his sandwich. The things you do for your kids! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. I am going to post about Christmas, but the card reader is being weird on my laptop so I need to get that fixed.&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/3128599812290410953-4107811512459955274?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4107811512459955274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4107811512459955274' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4107811512459955274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4107811512459955274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2008/01/ooooh-dear.html' title='Ooooh Dear?!?!?!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R4caEaFvuOI/AAAAAAAAAV4/OGwrB1pyU00/s72-c/DSC_0578.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5781622146046494196</id><published>2007-12-18T00:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T01:07:51.794-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Belated 34th!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eL16FvuEI/AAAAAAAAAUM/be4_a9FKpRU/s1600-h/BELNAP0-R1-028-12A.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145234857536763970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eL16FvuEI/AAAAAAAAAUM/be4_a9FKpRU/s320/BELNAP0-R1-028-12A.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My cute parent's &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Happy 34&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Anniversary!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Thanks for getting married. You two are sure cute, even though you sometimes made me &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt; by how much you kissed and hugged and still kiss and hug! I know you had a super exciting anniversary of interviewing a bunch of missionaries, but hopefully you were able to take a few moments for yourselves. You guys are a great example of staying in love. We can't wait to see you in 5 days!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&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/3128599812290410953-5781622146046494196?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5781622146046494196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5781622146046494196' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5781622146046494196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5781622146046494196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-belated-34th.html' title='Happy Belated 34th!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eL16FvuEI/AAAAAAAAAUM/be4_a9FKpRU/s72-c/BELNAP0-R1-028-12A.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4441415210214143405</id><published>2007-12-16T09:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-18T01:08:50.906-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Trip to the Big City</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eJZ6FvuDI/AAAAAAAAAUE/jG588RslWgc/s1600-h/DSC_1218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145232177477171250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eJZ6FvuDI/AAAAAAAAAUE/jG588RslWgc/s320/DSC_1218.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No, not New York City--SALT LAKE CITY! Yeah, Salt Lake is the big city here in Utah. On Friday we randomly decided to go stay in SLC for the night. We had big plans to take the boys all around Temple Square and just live it up. Well it didn't exactly work out that way, because by the time we got to Temple Square it was 24 degrees outside. We literally walked about 100 feet inside the gates and took about ten pictures and then decided our children were starting to show signs of frostbite (the frostbite part was not literal), so we went to dinner. It was Jen's birthday (my sister) and she had a special request for her birthday. She wanted to have a sleep over with James. So Jen took James and my sister, Heidi, watched Bennett and drum roll please......Mark and Lindsay went on a date!!!!!!!!!! This is a miraculous event because we generally take the boys with us everywhere or we just stay at home--believe it or not, we have never gotten a babysitter before. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We went and saw August Rush with Keri Russell. I thought it was pretty good, but every time we see Keri Russell in something, Mark and I get into a disagreement. I need some support on this--I loved Keri Russell in the television show "Felicity". I think Keri Russell is darling and I thought that she looked so great when she chopped her hair off on the show. When Mark and I get into this disagreement, he makes all these lame jokes (they are actually pretty funny, but it makes me mad because he is just being a pill) and then I just have to change the subject. I know it is a bizarre thing to take personally, but I think I take it personally because I had super short hair for over a year. Well, back to the main subject--our SLC trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The next morning, we stepped right outside the front door of the hotel and jumped onto Trax. It was Bennett's first time riding Trax and he LOVED it! He totally freaked when he had to get off, in fact the rest of the day he did his famous trick of saying things so it seems like it is your idea not his. He kept saying "Mom, want to ride the train? Ride the train? Yeah, okay, I'll ride the train." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can't believe that after living in Salt Lake for over 5 years that I only rode Trax a handful of times. I LOVE being downtown and I really like riding Trax. It makes me feel like I am in a cool city like London or NYC. Well, we had a fun sleepover in SLC and hopefully we will do it again soon (when it is warmer than 24 degrees). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145219842331097106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2d-L6FvuBI/AAAAAAAAAT0/IlNb7BWeynw/s320/DSC_1208.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;No, these boys are not the same size even though they are close. When I took James in for his six-month appointment I got quite a scare. The doctor sat down across from me and said "well...............(I started to get so nervous that he was going to say something was wrong) we just don't see growth like this." After we discussed his major growth spurt since his four-month appointment, he then asked "do you have a history of big heads in your family?" Uhhhhh, I sure do! We have large, Swedish heads and we are proud of it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145228393610983458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eF9qFvuCI/AAAAAAAAAT8/k6E3Sy9XerI/s320/DSC_1243.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mark and Bennett just before boarding the train. I know that Bennett doesn't look very excited, but I promise he was. He was a little distracted by his obsession--the Temple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-4441415210214143405?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4441415210214143405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4441415210214143405' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4441415210214143405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4441415210214143405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/12/our-trip-to-big-city.html' title='Our Trip to the Big City'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R2eJZ6FvuDI/AAAAAAAAAUE/jG588RslWgc/s72-c/DSC_1218.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5728524781278704272</id><published>2007-12-07T00:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T00:46:41.676-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bennett singing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="350" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HXXK_2iCHyY"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HXXK_2iCHyY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;  &lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bennett loves to sing!  He is funny, because he chooses random words to yell while whispering the rest of the words.  My sister-in-law, Michelle, got this on video while we were in St. George for Thanksgiving.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-5728524781278704272?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5728524781278704272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5728524781278704272' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5728524781278704272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5728524781278704272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/12/bennett-singing.html' title='Bennett singing'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-1787328428732631350</id><published>2007-12-06T23:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-06T23:50:24.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Shoveling of the Snow</title><content type='html'>This post title sounds like an actual event doesn't it! Well it snowed the other day as many people may have noticed. Since Bennett wants to be doing whatever Mark is doing, he insisted on "helping" when it came to shoveling the driveway. Bennett uses the word "helping" liberally. He used it the other day when he took every single paper out of my filing cabinet, he uses it when he rips James' binky out of his mouth and tries to force it back in, and he used it a while ago when he dumped and entire package of spaghetti noodles on my kitchen floor. Well, I do love the spirit of helping that he has. In fact, I hope that he will one day want to help do the dishes, the laundry, scrub toilets, etc. Mark is such a patient Dad and was no different when it came time to shovel the driveway.....with a two-year-old. Shoveling probably took 5 times longer with Bennett's "help", but Bennett was beaming--he thrives on being helpful and being with his Dad. &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141132979295649634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R1j5NK32f2I/AAAAAAAAATk/6hgL4GrtM7I/s320/shovelingblog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett doing his picture face.  I do not know why, but all of the sudden Bennett refuses to wear a jacket or a coat.  We had to bribe him to wear his sweatshirt in order to shovel.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141133529051463538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R1j5tK32f3I/AAAAAAAAATs/nWnbS9YB5i8/s320/shovelingblog2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I was not born to shovel snow, so I am glad that Bennett is so excited about it and that Mark does it without thinking.  Then again I wasn't born to rake leaves or do yard work either--just ask my Dad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-1787328428732631350?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/1787328428732631350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=1787328428732631350' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1787328428732631350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1787328428732631350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/12/first-shoveling-of-snow.html' title='The First Shoveling of the Snow'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R1j5NK32f2I/AAAAAAAAATk/6hgL4GrtM7I/s72-c/shovelingblog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-487821218627577848</id><published>2007-12-02T22:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-02T23:08:38.164-08:00</updated><title type='text'>YEAH.......I think I'll Pass!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>Anyone that knows Bennett knows that he is not so much an eater as he is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;snacker&lt;/span&gt;.  Every meal of the day for him is more a like a snack--we are so proud when he eats a few bites of any meal.  For these snacks, he often makes some bizarre requests--every morning this week he has asked for spaghetti and pretzels for breakfast.  Well, his request for his mid-morning snack was no different today.  I asked him what he wanted for a snack and as usual he replied without even thinking it over--"FRUIT SNACK!"  Well this was not the bizarre part.  As I was going to the pantry to retrieve his request he added something else, something I had never heard.  "And sour cream.  Yeah, sour cream.  Mom, I want fruit snack and sour cream.  Sour cream on a plate okay."  I just kind of brushed the sour cream request off until the 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; time he asked for it and started to yell.  I thought, &lt;em&gt;well, fine.  I will get him a plate of sour cream and he will see that it is really not a great snack.  &lt;/em&gt;Upon handing him the plate  of sour cream, I saw the first fruit snack get dipped.  Bennett loves to dip his food in "sauce".  You better believe that Bennett actually dipped every single fruit snack in sour cream and ate it, and liked it.  After every bite he said, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;mmm&lt;/span&gt;, Momma this is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nummy&lt;/span&gt;."  I could not believe it.  How yucky is that!  I guess the food ends up in the same place anyway, but I think I will keep my fruit snacks and sour cream &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt;.  What a funny little guy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-487821218627577848?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/487821218627577848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=487821218627577848' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/487821218627577848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/487821218627577848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/12/yeahi-think-ill-pass.html' title='YEAH.......I think I&apos;ll Pass!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3058266982744355117</id><published>2007-11-29T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T20:47:33.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving in St. George</title><content type='html'>We headed south for Thanksgiving in search of warmer weather. Well, as always we were tricked and totally got the shaft. If you want good weather in St. George, just go when the Horne's are not there. The day before we got to St. George, it was 73 degrees. The day we got there, it was 52 degrees. Oh well, it was still fun. We went with Mark's siblings, so Bennett was in heaven since he loves being around his Snyder cousins. Since Mark's parents are on a mission, it was up to us to make Thanksgiving dinner--SCARY!! I have to admit we did a really good job, we had awesome food. Here are some pictures from our Holiday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138488146106568482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-Tvnc8zyI/AAAAAAAAATU/rTh3PhjZsSk/s320/thanksgiving.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This was James' first Thanksgiving.  The poor kid looks at food and licks his lips and starts panting like a little dog.  I wish Thanksgiving came around more often--well maybe when my parents or Mark's parents are home to be the ones in charge.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138488287840489266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-T33c8zzI/AAAAAAAAATc/zKo63AFsEIg/s320/thanksgiving2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This is Bennett's new "smile" face.  One of these days I am going to be able to be in St. George without either wearing a jacket or having it be 110 degrees.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-3058266982744355117?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3058266982744355117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3058266982744355117' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3058266982744355117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3058266982744355117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving-in-st-george.html' title='Thanksgiving in St. George'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-Tvnc8zyI/AAAAAAAAATU/rTh3PhjZsSk/s72-c/thanksgiving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-9003744424151927460</id><published>2007-11-29T19:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T20:21:43.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>James is SIX MONTHS!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-K_Xc8zvI/AAAAAAAAAS8/D-bvcbSI7To/s1600-R/DSC_1191.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138478521084858098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-K_Xc8zvI/AAAAAAAAAS8/hwtIy0zsVLA/s320/DSC_1191.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt; Happy 1/2 Birthday Jamesee Bear!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;What in the world? I cannot believe it has been six months since little James came into our family. These last six months are very foggy in my mind (I think that Heavenly Father puts a little fog in your memory so that you will have more kids) so I am grateful for cameras and video cameras. It seems like James has always been with us, and it is kindof hard to remember life before him. These six months have gone by quickly, which is good because that means my parents have been gone for almost six months (just 30 months left!) and Mark's parents only have six months left!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For James' 1/2 birthday we celebrated by going to McDonald's for breakfast. I guess that was more a celebration for me in that I didn't have to make breakfast (I am the one who did all the work six months ago), but James did get to try butternut squash for breakfast. After going to breakfast I took the boys to Kangaroo Zoo for a couple of hours (again not really for James since he can't do anything there, but at least he got out of the house.).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James is such a good baby! He loves to jabber and he is really loud too. When we lay him down wide awake for his naps and bedtime and he just coos and kicks and then falls right asleep. He is a cuddler--well as much of a cuddler as I will probably ever have. He is a little chunky man who outgrew his 6-12 month clothing at 5 months old. His hobbies include rolling, sitting up by himself, cooing, chewing on anything he can grab, jumping in his jumperoo, watching Bennett play, and doing his kick gym. He is so darling, I seriously cannot get enough of him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138481016460857090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-NQnc8zwI/AAAAAAAAATE/uEwJq_ra0gc/s320/6month3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He is still a little wobbly, but he is a sitter. He just never gets to practice because I never put him on the floor for his own protection. I swear Bennett has a radar that beeps anytime James is in a position to be sat on or body slammed!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138474324901809874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-HLHc8ztI/AAAAAAAAASs/8e-EUbI3J4c/s320/DSC_1146.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He really does love his jumperoo, but he needed a nap between workouts&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138475308449320674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-IEXc8zuI/AAAAAAAAAS0/n1kxouIPPTg/s320/DSC_1176.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He is a happy little guy! He giggles like an old fat man--which he pretty much is, minus the old part&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-9003744424151927460?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/9003744424151927460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=9003744424151927460' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/9003744424151927460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/9003744424151927460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/11/james-is-six-months.html' title='James is SIX MONTHS!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/R0-K_Xc8zvI/AAAAAAAAAS8/hwtIy0zsVLA/s72-c/DSC_1191.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4398349639483824751</id><published>2007-11-08T15:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T20:12:37.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Cows</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it is already November! Halloween came and went in the blink of an eye this year. I never even had a chance to do my favorite Halloween tricks. This was James first Halloween and Bennett's third Halloween. I like to put my kids in their costumes first thing in the morning and keep them in it until they go to bed. Our little tradition is to go trick-or-treating at the grocery store. I love Halloween with kids because they do all the work and I get 99% of the candy, plus I don't have the guilt of actually buying it--I have to eat it, it was a gift!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Horne boys were cows this year. Bennett actually really liked wearing his costume, but James didn't love it--he was giving me this look of "Mom you better watch out because I am the one who will choose your nursing home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark was in meetings in Salt Lake, so I decided to take the boys to surprise him. We took the boys trick-or-treating that night. It was so funny to see how Bennett acted. At the first house, Bennett looked at the bowl of candy and then at us and went for it. Every house we went to he took like five hands full of candy. He got two pieces of his candy and I got the rest, it was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130622867919954962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RzOiUK7dZBI/AAAAAAAAASE/t6zI8W5e4uA/s320/DSC_1091.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;James on Halloween morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130623391905965090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RzOiyq7dZCI/AAAAAAAAASM/XeKh2Gzg8Mw/s320/DSC_1105.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett trying to get James pumped up for trick-or-treating on Halloween morning&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130625212972098610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RzOkcq7dZDI/AAAAAAAAASU/TStwAPPe_LA/s320/DSC_1166.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;My sleepy little cows. Both of the boys fell asleep before we finished trick-or-treating at the grocery store&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130625840037323842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RzOlBK7dZEI/AAAAAAAAASc/A3X1881riTE/s320/DSC_1174.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Visiting Dad in downtown &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SLC&lt;/span&gt;. I took about 7 pictures, but Bennett would not look at the camera because of the trains.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130626419857908818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RzOli67dZFI/AAAAAAAAASk/QTycxGJy1OA/s320/DSC_1192.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Me with the two cows right before we went trick-or-treating. Bennett got started a little early with a sucker from the candy we were handing out&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-4398349639483824751?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4398349639483824751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4398349639483824751' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4398349639483824751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4398349639483824751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/11/my-cows.html' title='My Cows'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RzOiUK7dZBI/AAAAAAAAASE/t6zI8W5e4uA/s72-c/DSC_1091.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-7309362710144833121</id><published>2007-11-01T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T14:32:13.719-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Third Anniversary----FINALLY!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo-WuvzKDI/AAAAAAAAAPk/vIkXrsWnfSE/s1600-h/BELNAP0-R3-029-13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127979685941291058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo-WuvzKDI/AAAAAAAAAPk/vIkXrsWnfSE/s320/BELNAP0-R3-029-13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; October 22, 2004&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127980905712003138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo_duvzKEI/AAAAAAAAAPs/Unf5pF75FQM/s320/DSC_1481.JPG" border="0" /&gt;October 22, 2007&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127976705233987570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo7pOvzJ_I/AAAAAAAAAPE/CVHpH3CWsJw/s320/DSC_1533.JPG" border="0" /&gt;At our hotel (in Hood River, Oregon) they were wishing us a Happy Anniversary. I hope we can make it to 48 years like the Marrufo's!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YAHOOOOOOOOO!! So, it seems like our third anniversary has been a long time coming. It definitely seems like it has been longer, but that is probably because Mark and I dated for two years and were best of friends for a year or two before that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway, we decided to go to Washington to visit my parents' (who are Mission Presidents--Yeah that is plural because my Mom does just as much work as my Dad). We hung out with my parent's for a couple of days and then blew out of town for our anniversary extravaganza.We drove to the Oregon Coast from Richland, Washington. I can't even describe how beautiful it is! This was a fun anniversary for us for may reasons and I will list them all:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This is kind of a dorky reason, but people would ask us how long we had been married and we would tell them two years and they would look at us and see us each holding a baby--it was a little embarrassing. I am really excited for someone to ask us and to be able to say THREE years and we only have TWO babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;On our 1st anniversary, we had a six-week-old baby!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;On our 2nd anniversary, I was two months pregnant and was throwing up 24/7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We went on a trip--on the Oregon Coast--alone--I wasn't pregnant--I hadn't just had a baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127976112528500706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo7GuvzJ-I/AAAAAAAAAO8/lEPRdWcrSW4/s320/washington.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This was the view from our hotel room in Astoria. Our hotel was on a pier, it was really cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127977486918035458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo8WuvzKAI/AAAAAAAAAPM/e75H6XnkkSA/s320/DSC_1501.JPG" border="0" /&gt;While on the Oregon Coast we went to Astoria, Oregon. What is Astoria you may ask? Astoria is the filming location of a little film called "The Goonies". My family is pretty much obsessed with "The Goonies", so I dragged Mark around to all the major sights--Mikey's house, the pizza place, the museum, the beach, etc. Those of you who are not Goonies fans have probably already exited out of my blog, but I know that those of you who are Goonies's fans are glued to this post desperately hoping for some photos.&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;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127981146230171730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo_ruvzKFI/AAAAAAAAAP0/DkKYZ2dRukM/s320/goonies342%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The Goonies crew&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127981756115527778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RypAPOvzKGI/AAAAAAAAAP8/Q3A4NZbBoyU/s320/DSC_1525.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cannon Beach--The three rocks they use to help find the treasure!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127975846240528322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo63OvzJ8I/AAAAAAAAAOs/3jliS0xO44w/s320/pizza-place.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The pizza place where Chunk watches the police chase.&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;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127975979384514514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo6--vzJ9I/AAAAAAAAAO0/CZYgCp0MJmE/s320/mikey%27s-house.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Mikey's house. Directly behind me is where Chunk would have done the truffle shuffle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We stayed in Astoria and Hood River, Oregon. I know I already said this, but I could not believe how pretty it was. I told my Mom that we will be dropping our kids off for our next two anniversaries, which she is totally fine with and so am I!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;While we were on the coast, my parents were doing what grandparents do best--spoiling my kids! Bennett was on cloud nine. He got to go to the river and throw rocks, go out to eat, see baby cows see the temple, and watch movies. It did make me feel better about myself when my Mom told me that while we were gone Bennett kept asking "where's Babe?" His latest thing is to call me babe. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127978985861621794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo9t-vzKCI/AAAAAAAAAPc/eRPFhBv7Hno/s320/dad-cow.jpg" border="0" /&gt;My Dad took Bennett to see the new baby cows at his 2nd counselor's farm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127978315846723602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo9G-vzKBI/AAAAAAAAAPU/bduAjugX_kI/s320/papa-cows.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Papa and Bennett checking out the new baby cows. Bennett loved it, but he did not want to touch any of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127986549299030130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RypEmOvzKHI/AAAAAAAAAQE/iZGUmm18_Oc/s320/cute-temple.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this is one of the cutest pictures I have ever seen in my whole life! My boys adore my parents. James became best friends with my Mom and Bennett has always been a Papa's boy. This is them in front of the Columbia River Temple, which is literally around the corner from my parents house. Thanks for the awesome trip Mom and Dad, you guys are the best!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/3128599812290410953-7309362710144833121?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/7309362710144833121/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=7309362710144833121' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/7309362710144833121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/7309362710144833121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/11/our-third-anniversary-finally.html' title='Our Third Anniversary----FINALLY!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ryo-WuvzKDI/AAAAAAAAAPk/vIkXrsWnfSE/s72-c/BELNAP0-R3-029-13.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2261797317513080834</id><published>2007-10-29T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T14:57:46.645-07:00</updated><title type='text'>James Eats Cereal!!!!!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RyZLpuvzJzI/AAAAAAAAANk/edkHwuZs2Wc/s1600-h/DSC_1406.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126868406103123762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RyZLpuvzJzI/AAAAAAAAANk/edkHwuZs2Wc/s320/DSC_1406.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RyZJTOvzJyI/AAAAAAAAANc/LwmpKep6H1w/s1600-h/DSC_1398.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126865820532811554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RyZJTOvzJyI/AAAAAAAAANc/LwmpKep6H1w/s320/DSC_1398.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hooray! James started eating rice cereal about two weeks ago and he loves it! He makes the mmmm noise between every bite and if you aren't fast enough at shoveling it in, he gets ticked. This kid was ready for a footlong sandwich at birth, so he is excited and so are we. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He is so fun! He is a giggle man and a noise machine. He is all boy with his deep grunts and love for food. He is really into working out at the gym--well his kick gym anyway, he loves songs and dance parties, and he loves to have books read to him (especially by Mark--I thought this was going to be my kid since Bennett is obsessed with Mark, but I guess not). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He turned 5 months yesterday and I cannot believe it. On one hand it seems like just yesterday I was pushing that kid out, but on the other hand it seems like he has always been with us. Needless to say, I think we are going to keep him.&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/3128599812290410953-2261797317513080834?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2261797317513080834/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2261797317513080834' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2261797317513080834'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2261797317513080834'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/10/james-eats-cereal.html' title='James Eats Cereal!!!!!!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RyZLpuvzJzI/AAAAAAAAANk/edkHwuZs2Wc/s72-c/DSC_1406.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-1349290394664995445</id><published>2007-10-17T08:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T20:34:06.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Halloween!</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Saying Happy Halloween makes me want to sing a song that my friends and I made up when were juniors in high school. We made up this song to ask all of our dates to the Hallowee dance. All of us piled into a car and drove around singing this to like 8 guys. We were cool and geeky at the same time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Here is the song:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;(This was the version for my date. It was an awesome song because all you had to do was insert the next girl's name)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Happy Halloween! Happy Halloween! Will you go.....to the dance.....with Lindsay?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;It really was a good song. You will have to call me and have me sing it to do the song justice.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Anyway, I thought I would post some pictures of Halloween in the past:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;2004--This was our first Halloween married. Ever since my sophomore year of high school, when I learned about the Salem witch trials, I have wanted to go to Salem, Massachusetts. So, these two pictures are of Mark and I in Salem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122496866354740850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbDwoIgPnI/AAAAAAAAAL8/JyscFFiKoaw/s320/04-10-27+6.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Salem is a really cool place, especially during the week of Halloween&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122497471945129602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbET4IgPoI/AAAAAAAAAME/3wBnU9MdezU/s320/04-10-27+5.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The empty one must have been for the midget witches &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2005--This was our first Halloween with our little baby, Bennett. His due date was October 13, but he came 5 weeks early--so he was so tiny. He was little pea pod. I took him trick-or-treating to my Dad's office, to visit my Mom, my sister's, and Mark's parents (Mark's Mom's birthday is on Halloween).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122334288957685330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxYv5YIgPlI/AAAAAAAAALw/Lj9pf_4PxtE/s320/DSC00972.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;My tiny little pea pod&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122497648038788754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbEeIIgPpI/AAAAAAAAAMM/tm1Z0450cMo/s320/DSC00973.JPE" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Mark's Mom, Margie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122497725348200098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbEioIgPqI/AAAAAAAAAMU/sbsI2TzYyxc/s320/DSC00974.JPE" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett visiting Papa (my dad) at his office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2006--Margie's (Mark's Mom) birthday is on Halloween, so we had a big birthday party for her. Bennett was a chicken. Mark and I dressed up like what we think his parent's will look like in 15 years. This was very funny because Mark just went upstairs and put on his Dad's clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122501169911971506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbHrIIgPrI/AAAAAAAAAMc/0JdkGScAMDc/s320/DSC_0488.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett visiting Aunt Jen at her office when she worked for the Mormon's (She was a technical writer for The Church's Farm Management division)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122503137006993090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbJdoIgPsI/AAAAAAAAAMk/jozTkeNKz4o/s320/DSC_0476.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett visiting Papa at his office&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122503746892349138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbKBIIgPtI/AAAAAAAAAMs/PXfVAXw7Yck/s320/DSC01643.JPE" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett and Nana (my Mom)--We surprised her at the hair salon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122504854993911522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbLBoIgPuI/AAAAAAAAAM0/aW10mS9sFHU/s320/DSC_0506.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Bennett and Grandpa Horne&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122506358232465138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbMZIIgPvI/AAAAAAAAAM8/BY-lHLBsT-Q/s320/edit1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;The fam. Mark and I are going to look good when we are old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-1349290394664995445?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/1349290394664995445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=1349290394664995445' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1349290394664995445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1349290394664995445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/10/happy-halloween.html' title='Happy Halloween!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxbDwoIgPnI/AAAAAAAAAL8/JyscFFiKoaw/s72-c/04-10-27+6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3791605318419867252</id><published>2007-10-15T13:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T23:10:04.505-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag--Apparently I am it</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Thanks a lot Heather!! So my sister-in-law tagged me and I have waited to post for a several days trying to think of what I will say. I haven't really thought of anything yet so I decided to write this post the way I wrote papers in college--At the very last minute and with little to no preparation (Hey, I graduated didn't I!?!?!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121767537958207042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxQscIIgPkI/AAAAAAAAALo/zW0o6RzGvhA/s320/04-09-01+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;Kind of a goofy picture, but it was the only one I could find of just me. This was taken right after Mark proposed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules: Each player lists 6 habits/facts about themselves. Once you finish posting, you have to tag 6 other people and list them at the end of the post. Leave a comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged and tell them to go to your blog for the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1. OLD HABITS/HOBBIES&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Taking naps&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Sleeping in&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Reading grown up books&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Going to movies and out to eat whenever I wanted&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;2. NEW HABITS/HOBBIES&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Pumping/Breastfeeding (I sometimes feel like this is all I do all day long, plus you can tell you pump a lot when your 2 year old thinks boobs are called pumps)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Reading children's books and books about children&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Drinking Diet Coke because napping is no longer a habit/hobby&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Playing with my boys (all three of them) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Going to Costco--This is definitely a hobby&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Baking and cooking (I really like to experiment with recipes-sometimes it is scary and we end up having grilled cheese and soup)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-I start listening to Christmas music in October and decorate for Christmas November 1st&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;3. FAVORITE THINGS&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Mark and my boys&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Going to the movies (Even though it has only happened 5 times since Bennett was born)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Watching Mark with our boys&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Watching Bennett and James interact&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Having my babies snuggle me&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Hearing "lub you mom" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Hearing "love you babe!" (Mark--just in case you didn't know who couldn't say love)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Talking on the phone when my boys are napping at the same time (which rarely happens)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Spooning!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Family&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Nordstrom&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Finding a good deal&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Costco tortillas (The ones you bake at home)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Favorite shows&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Guilty Pleasures: Grey's Anatomy, The Hills (Yeah, I know I am too old to watch this)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Really embarrassing: Hannah Montana&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Just good: The Office, Life (New show on Wednesday's on NBC), Flip This House &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4. FAVORITE WEBSITES&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-mothering.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-babycenter.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-albeebaby.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-ksl.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-cnn.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-perezhilton.com (I try not to look at this website, but when I need to know about celebrity gossip this is the fastest way!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-lds.org&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-delta.com ( I am always trying to find cheap airfare places, especially to Washington to see my parents)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Every blog of every person I know&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-screenit.com&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;5. FAVORITE PLACES&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Home&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Midway/Heber Valley&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Lake Powell&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Deer Valley&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-St. George&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Hawaii&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Europe &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Salt Lake &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;6. THINGS THAT FREAK ME OUT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Driving in the snow&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Fire&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Bugs, especially spiders&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Noises at night, especially when Mark is out of town&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Driving on roads with cliffs-I literally start having a panic attack&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Snakes&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Dreams, especially the scary ones &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;For example (this one is not scary, but crazy! I have extremely weird dreams while I am pregnant) I was dreaming that I had a trap door in my belly so that I could take the baby out and try outfits on him and then I could put him back in to keep cooking.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-Deep water-even though I swam on a swimming team and taught swimming lessons for 10 years&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-I hate scary movies. In fact they don't even have to be scary, I hate movies that are intense&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;-I am paranoid about being robbed. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I TAG HEIDI, ASHLEY, KRISTA, BETHANY, JEN BELNAP, AND JEN COLVIN&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-3791605318419867252?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3791605318419867252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3791605318419867252' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3791605318419867252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3791605318419867252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/10/tag-apparently-i-am-it.html' title='Tag--Apparently I am it'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxQscIIgPkI/AAAAAAAAALo/zW0o6RzGvhA/s72-c/04-09-01+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-599656485072321675</id><published>2007-10-12T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T22:00:05.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it too early retire?</title><content type='html'>We have officially completed our first road trip with two children. We left Utah County last weekend in search of warm weather. Apparently we found warmer weather, but not warm weather. St. George was only about 55 degrees. We left Thursday night at 7:30 and James slept the whole way, however it took listening to the Peter Pan soundtrack about 3 times before Bennett fell asleep. Mark's parents have a great house in St. George. It is so relaxing there and it is a great place to take kids. There is a little kid pool, a big pool with a slide, a hot tub, a play ground, basketball court, and tennis court-- Bennett couldn't get enough of being outside, but it was kind of too cold to be outside. Of course the day after we got home it was 80 degrees in St. George.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made our own fun by playing Bennett's favorite game that he and Mark made up--it is called "Running" (It is usually played by one of them declaring "Running" and then Bennett counts to three and they run from our back door to our front door). This is a very entertaining thing to watch and those of you who have seen Bennett run can understand why. Bennett's run is kind of more of a speed walk with a lot of arm movement. He usually puts a couple of pike jumps in the middle of his run and he also steers himself through moving his arms. Really the only rule to this "game" is yelling "RUNNING" as you are running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Conference was so good--at least what I was able to watch, what with the two little monkey's! I LOVED Julie B. Beck's talk on motherhood. Sometimes at the end of the day when I feel like all I did was wipe noses and change diapers I wonder if I have even made a difference, but her talk reminded me how important a mother's job is. I am going to try and look on the bright side on those kind of days and remember that the boys are probably very grateful to have a clean diaper and a clean nose--which Bennett has been telling me "thanks Mom" for doing both of those things.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;So, back to the title of this post...I hate the end of a vacation. It is hard for me to have Mark go to work when we get home after being with him non-stop. I guess I just really like him. I think I just really like St. George as well. I really think I would fit in well with the older crowd of retired people who flock to St. George. I asked Mark if he could look into retiring soon, but I guess we haven't quite reached the age requirement of retirement nor have we reached the finances needed to retire at this point. Hello!!! I can teach swimming lessons in St. George to support our retirement. Oh well, maybe in a couple of years. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mark wanted to bike while we were in St. George so he put his bike on the car. When Bennett saw Mark's bike on the car, he grabbed his bike and walked over to the car and tried to lift it up onto the car. So, Mark rigged Bennett's "tricickle" to the bike rack. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121036117912600018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGTN4IgPdI/AAAAAAAAAK4/mTbtJ4PvXLI/s320/DSC01733.JPG" border="0" /&gt; We got quite a few funny looks on the freeway with Bennett's tricycle and Mark's mountain bike on the car&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121027089891343794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGLAYIgPbI/AAAAAAAAAKo/DIKptkw_DA4/s320/DSC_1239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Bennett "pouring" in the pool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121032879507258818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGQRYIgPcI/AAAAAAAAAKw/V6LvizZwp_k/s320/DSC_1236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;James and Mark hanging out in the hot tub, make ya sweat in the hot tub (Just think Eddie Murphy on SNL)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121040988405513714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGXpYIgPfI/AAAAAAAAALI/z3B3Q_YZLts/s320/DSC_1319.JPG" border="0" /&gt;James enjoying watching Bennett play &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121042332730277378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGY3oIgPgI/AAAAAAAAALQ/83ae51vAgsY/s320/DSC_1335.JPG" border="0" /&gt;These three boys are my life!  I cannot get enough of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121038905346375138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGVwIIgPeI/AAAAAAAAALA/r-pnaBG-WSg/s320/DSC_1275.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I think Bennett looks so big in this picture. Luckily I threw his sweatshirt in the car at the last minute. It is always a bummer to have to wear a sweatshirt in St. George&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-599656485072321675?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/599656485072321675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=599656485072321675' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/599656485072321675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/599656485072321675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/10/is-it-too-early-retire.html' title='Is it too early retire?'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RxGTN4IgPdI/AAAAAAAAAK4/mTbtJ4PvXLI/s72-c/DSC01733.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3819680919726917177</id><published>2007-10-10T21:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T21:58:58.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cute little buddies!</title><content type='html'>Bennett keeps getting cuter and cuter with the way he interacts with James.  We have been spending a lot of time in the car lately (running errands, going to St. George, etc.), and James is not a huge fan of his car seat.  The other day as we were pulling out of the driveway, I stopped for a few seconds to find my sunglasses.  James was already on his way to being furious when all of the sudden Bennett said to me in a very annoyed tone "Mom, DRIVE!"  Okay!!!  Are you kidding me?  Anyway, we set out on our journey of errands and I got into my own little world of talk radio and talking to myself when I suddenly realized that Bennett was totally entertaining James.  I leaned back to the backseat and saw what melted my heart--James was wide eyed and staring at Bennett who was doing everything he could think of to make James laugh.  He was clapping, singing, playing peek-a-goo (peek-a-boo to the rest of us), and my personal favorite--doing his new fake laugh which I can only describe as the way an adult would force a laugh at at a fancy cocktail party (strange I know).  He was doing this f.l. (fake laugh) and saying "Oh James, you are silly."  James was giggling like crazy!  It was so insanely cute. &lt;br /&gt;   Yesterday Bennett started saying the most random things to James in the back seat.  James started crying and Bennett said "James don't cry, Nana (my mom) is coming.  We can go to Nana's house.  Don't be sad, Nana is coming."  He was saying this to James in the high pitch voice he uses when he is imitating me talking to James.  I thought it was so cute and then I realized it kind of sounded like he was saying "James don't worry, Nana is going to save us from this crazy lady!" &lt;br /&gt;   Bennett started saying another random thing while we were in the car.  We have had to go to Salt Lake every day this week which means I have had a diet coke in the car every day this week.  Today as we were headed back to Utah County, Bennett said to me "Mom, I need a diet coke."  Oh dear!!!  My first thought was that Mark could never know that Bennett even knows what diet coke is, my second thought was fear that I will have to stop drinking diet coke to keep my 2 year old from needing diet coke.  I really don't let him have diet coke I promise!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-3819680919726917177?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3819680919726917177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3819680919726917177' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3819680919726917177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3819680919726917177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/10/cute-little-buddies.html' title='Cute little buddies!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-585198644064492578</id><published>2007-10-02T23:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T23:41:47.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunrise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't love to wake up at the crack of dawn, but this last week I have been able to watch the sunrise almost every morning. I decided I might as well make the most of it and document the beauty. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116996063275871474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RwM4zvyhbPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/K1W-opYv148/s320/edit.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;This is the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sunrise&lt;/span&gt; from my back yard.  It makes waking up so early a little more worth it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-585198644064492578?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/585198644064492578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=585198644064492578' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/585198644064492578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/585198644064492578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/10/sunrise.html' title='Sunrise!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RwM4zvyhbPI/AAAAAAAAAKg/K1W-opYv148/s72-c/edit.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2402518532131387638</id><published>2007-09-29T22:37:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T09:21:37.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny Bennett</title><content type='html'>Bennett is saying the cutest and funniest things lately. Here are some of his latest:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Today, I took him with me to run errands while Mark and James stayed home. While we were driving Bennett said to me, "Mom, I want James. Where is James?" &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bennett took me upstairs the other day and pulling me by the finger, took me into the nursery. He walked over to the crib and pointed to it and said "James bed." He then walked me into the guest room next door and said "Bennett's bed." When I would go to lay him down for a nap he tell me he wanted to "sleep in the big boy bed." I was so sad!! He sleeps in a big bed now, so I guess I should move James into the nursery. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Right after he woke up the other morning, I asked him what he wanted for breakfast and he said "Mom, I want candy." I told him that we couldn't have candy for breakfast to which he replied "Silly mommy, you are funny mommy" while he giggled.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lately he has been asking me "Mom, where is Wendy?" I finally realized what he was talking about when he said "Mom, where is Wendy? She flying in the sky with Peter Pan?" He has become a big fan of Peter Pan since we have to listen to the soundtrack 500 times a day!! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;"Oh rocket ship where are you? Are you in the sky?" He says this about 500 times a day! We have to hang out in our front yard a lot to look for rocket ships (air planes). &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He is very polite. He says "thanks" for everything, even things he doesn't really like or want. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Everytime&lt;/span&gt; I buckle him in his car seat, he says "thanks, momma!"  When we wipe his nose he says "thanks, Mom" or "thanks, Dad."  He has started saying "no thanks", unfortunately it is to things like vegetables.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Yesterday Bennett came up to me and asked "mom, where's Mark? (YELLING AT THIS POINT) Mark come here! Hey Mark, come here!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Everywhere we go, if we see another kid Bennett he has to talk to them. Yesterday at the store we passed a little boy and Bennett said "what's up dude?" Usually he says "hi friend" until they acknowledge him. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am scared that if I don't get a daughter that I will hear this next statement way too much: "mom, I want to watch football." &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;While eating breakfast this morning he was just kind of talking to himself when I heard "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mmm&lt;/span&gt;, this is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;delicious&lt;/span&gt;!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When he does things that are scary like climbing up things you can hear him saying "Be careful, be careful Bennett."  At least he has heard me say that, apparently it hasn't stopped him from doing those things, but he has heard me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-2402518532131387638?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2402518532131387638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2402518532131387638' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2402518532131387638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2402518532131387638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/funny-bennett.html' title='Funny Bennett'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-8248806857533723899</id><published>2007-09-29T22:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T09:44:19.913-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOVE THE FALL!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I love Fall. I just wish that Fall in Utah lasted longer than one week. This time of year is really sentimental to me--Mark and I met in the Fall six years ago, We got married in the Fall, Bennett was born in the Fall. I just have really good memories connected with this time of year. I took a few pictures of the Fall foliage near my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116037394048006290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv_Q52nYuJI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/aX-vTteIAxY/s320/touched+up.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116038888696625314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv_SQ2nYuKI/AAAAAAAAAKE/DO7jqWJaoTA/s320/redone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&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/3128599812290410953-8248806857533723899?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/8248806857533723899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=8248806857533723899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8248806857533723899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8248806857533723899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-love-fall.html' title='I LOVE THE FALL!!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv_Q52nYuJI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/aX-vTteIAxY/s72-c/touched+up.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-718990287689022203</id><published>2007-09-29T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-29T15:05:20.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lookin' GOOD!</title><content type='html'>Mark's hair was pretty puffy, so I decided I would try and cut it. I think it looks pretty stinkin' good, although my first client wasn't very cooperative with me photographing the outcome of the cut!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115748720706107474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv7KW2nYuFI/AAAAAAAAAJc/boGC7895uTY/s320/DSC_1299.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;BEFORE&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115749648419043426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv7LM2nYuGI/AAAAAAAAAJk/26vHxpOM3hc/s320/DSC_1386.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;AFTER&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-718990287689022203?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/718990287689022203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=718990287689022203' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/718990287689022203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/718990287689022203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/lookin-good.html' title='Lookin&apos; GOOD!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv7KW2nYuFI/AAAAAAAAAJc/boGC7895uTY/s72-c/DSC_1299.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-95299348749532804</id><published>2007-09-28T09:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-28T10:19:54.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>For the Missionary Grandma's and Grandpa's</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mark's parents are serving a mission in Brazil and my parents are in Washington as the mission president couple. Mark's parents left in November so they have never seen James in person. My parents left two weeks after James was born so they haven't seen much of him in person. It is a huge sacrifice to leave your children and grandchildren to serve the Lord. We are so proud of them and we are so grateful for their example. We have also seen and felt the blessings of their sacrifice and service. We love and miss you guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5115292539344697410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv0rdmnYuEI/AAAAAAAAAJU/ZNUKdV3Y6iA/s320/redone.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; James is such a happy little guy. We call him Jamesy Bear because he kind of growls. James can't wait to meet Grandma and Grandpa Horne and he is excited to see Grandma and Grandpa Belnap in a couple of weeks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;A little bit about the James Man:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James has been sleeping through the night since he was two months old!!!! He is the dreamiest little sleeper ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;When he wakes up in the morning or from his nap, he is kicking his legs like crazy (sounds like Bennett when he was a little baby), grinning, and cooing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James is dead serious about food. When it is time to eat, it is time to eat!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;James is huge (at least I think he is)! He is almost four months old, but he already weighs a little over 16 pounds--which might be explained by #3.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bennett thinks James is the greatest toy ever! James on the other hand recognizes Bennett and starts flinching upon seeing Bennett coming.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He is such a sweet little baby and we just can't get enough of him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-95299348749532804?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/95299348749532804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=95299348749532804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/95299348749532804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/95299348749532804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/for-missionary-grandmas.html' title='For the Missionary Grandma&apos;s and Grandpa&apos;s'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rv0rdmnYuEI/AAAAAAAAAJU/ZNUKdV3Y6iA/s72-c/redone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5487838497048432823</id><published>2007-09-26T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T14:20:20.477-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Older and Wiser Too....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Happy Birthday to Mark! Yesterday was Mark's birthday, and let's just say he is a lot more responsible than I am. It has kind of become a little tradition for me to ask Mark the same thing every year on the night before his birthday. I always ask "You're not going to work tomorrow are you?" Every year he says "yeah, why wouldn't I?" HELLO!! No one should have to work on their birthday. Every year that I had an actual job, I took my birthday off because it is like a holiday. So Mark went to work for his birthday, but he did get a birthday breakfast of french toast before he left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114613908742125602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RvrCQGnYuCI/AAAAAAAAAJE/j5gq4LJNufo/s320/DSC_1299.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; Mark's birthday breakfast &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mark did come home a little early from work, because I offered to drive him up the canyon and shuttle him a couple of times so he could do some mountain biking for his birthday. That night, my sister Heidi came and watched the boys so Mark and I could go out to eat. Hopefully Mark had a good birthday because he definitely deserves it!! To quote Bennett "Love you babe!" (He calls Mark dad, daddy, Mark, honey, and babe because he hears me say it all day long.) &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114617181507205170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RvrFOmnYuDI/AAAAAAAAAJM/LHdm2GBb6tI/s320/imageCreateCAMVYDR2%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Top Ten Reasons We Will Keep Mark Around:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is really funny--I almost always laugh at his jokes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is the one that gets up with the boys in the morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He's handsome&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He loves his boys and his boys love him!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He doesn't get mad, not even when I call him and tell him I just hit a big rock with Audi and popped a tire and now there is something leaking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He would rather spend time with his family than mountain bike--well at least most of the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is a really good friend!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He honors his Priesthood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He is ridiculously smart--He will be the math tutor in the family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He helps balance out my spaziness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#cc0000;"&gt;Happy Birthday!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-5487838497048432823?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5487838497048432823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5487838497048432823' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5487838497048432823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5487838497048432823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/one-year-older-and-wiser-too.html' title='One Year Older and Wiser Too....'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RvrCQGnYuCI/AAAAAAAAAJE/j5gq4LJNufo/s72-c/DSC_1299.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-686423886879328314</id><published>2007-09-24T23:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T00:24:39.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rest of Bennett's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;So we did do more on Bennett's birthday than just have wardrobe struggles and tantrums. Bennett spent the majority of the day singing either Book of Mormon Stories or the Happy Birthday song to himself. For me, the best part of the day was when both of the boys were both asleep at the same time for over an hour! That was the first time that has happened for that long of a stretch. I didn't quite know what to do with myself--I thought about reading a real grown up book (which I havent done since I was pregnant with Bennett), I considered taking a nap (which I would love to have as a hobby again like it was in college!!), I even thought about just sitting and watching television, but noooo....I decided I better do laundry, do the dishes and pick up my room while the two little men slept. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway (sorry to get sidetracked), Mark's siblings and my siblings went up American Fork Canyon and had a little barbecue. We roasted hot dogs, had smores, and just enjoyed the outdoors. While we were there I kept wondering why we hadn't done this every week, all summer long. It is so pretty up that canyon! Bennett got to do his very favorite thing for his birthday which is throwing rocks. Our picnic spot was right along the creek and he kept himself busy throwing rocks into the water. It was the first time that Bennett had interest in taking wrapping paper of of his presents. We had a little train theme for his gifts (I didn't really plan it that way, but I will just claim that I did it on purpose). We gave him a cool train table with all the tracks and trains, a Thomas puzzle, and a Thomas record player. He didn't really know who Thomas was, but I was trying to open his little mind to things other than horses, balls, fire trucks, and rocket ships (which are airplanes). It has been a week and he is still interested in the things we gave him, so I am hoping they were good purchases. Mark did say to me the other day "If Bennett gets all the good gifts, what are we going to give James?" That is a good question....maybe that is the basis for the 2nd child syndrome. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114026370100934594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rvir42nYt8I/AAAAAAAAAIU/b52s3Ahe9j8/s320/DSC_1193.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My little sister, Ashley, and James at Bennett's birthday party. When Ashley got to the party we realized we had on the same hoodie! It could have been a tragedy, but luckily I had brought along a puff vest so we weren't matchy-matchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114031038730385362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RviwImnYt9I/AAAAAAAAAIc/uP1ePFchHWE/s320/DSC_1209.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; The party from afar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114032692292794338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rvixo2nYt-I/AAAAAAAAAIk/iOlyZyy_sq4/s320/DSC_1224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and the men folk! I don't know why but out of the blue today I started feeling sorry for myself that I am the only girl in my house! Uh-oh what if that means I am supposed to have another baby soon! (Hopefully Mark won't read this) I have a serious problem--I get baby hungry immediately after I have a baby. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114034848366376946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RvizmWnYt_I/AAAAAAAAAIs/-_sLDF0-Q9M/s320/DSC_1247.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I think he looks so big and so cute in this picture. He also looks a little Harry Potterish to me with the stick.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114035776079312898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rvi0cWnYuAI/AAAAAAAAAI0/ZvHC7swSeiU/s320/DSC_1263.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Opening presents&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114037103224207378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rvi1pmnYuBI/AAAAAAAAAI8/YiUDlwKZMlI/s320/DSC_1272.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;This was the first time since James was born that I have been able to put a hat on James!  I was so excited, I love babies in hats.  I am getting very excited for the colder weather.  Of course I say that now, but by January I will want to die!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-686423886879328314?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/686423886879328314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=686423886879328314' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/686423886879328314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/686423886879328314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/rest-of-bennetts-birthday.html' title='The Rest of Bennett&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rvir42nYt8I/AAAAAAAAAIU/b52s3Ahe9j8/s72-c/DSC_1193.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-6606771020630465917</id><published>2007-09-17T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T13:33:07.779-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bennett is TWO!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HAPPY 2nd BIRTHDAY BENNETT!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Well, the "Two Fairy" definitely came to our house last night!!  Not the Tooth Fairy, but the Two Fairy.  You know, the fairy that brings about the Terrible Twos and forces your child to do things he never would because he is too sweet and innocent.  Last night Bennett went to bed as my little, sweet one-year-old and woke up a two-year-old in every sense of the number. I took a picture of him sleeping last night to get the last image of my little one-year-old and then I took a picture of him right after he woke up to see if there were any changes. Well there was a change that was not apparent right at first, but soon emerged. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111263366376625282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ru7a83pYlII/AAAAAAAAAHs/GeOQQ2qWqt0/s320/DSC_1139.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking so sweet and innocent and very much One!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111264478773154962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ru7b9npYlJI/AAAAAAAAAH0/DFUUiqUSPso/s320/DSC_1177.JPG" border="0" /&gt;This is Bennett right after he woke up--He insists on getting dressed the instant he wakes up. At this point I thought "Hmmmmm....maybe the "Two Fairy" didn't make it to our house last night" because Bennett was in a great mood. He had picked out his own clothes, he said "thank you mommy" when I helped him down the stairs, and he asked for pancakes. In fact, I thought maybe Bennett was cured of temper tantrums because the morning had gone so smoothly, but then.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111265943357002914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ru7dS3pYlKI/AAAAAAAAAH8/f_yqGCWO7NE/s320/DSC_1182.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;This was literally the next picture that I took after the previous one. Why did he start crying you might ask? Well, I was rude enough to button his shirt all the way and he was ticked!! I just started laughing because I couldn't believe how mad he got from me trying to help him be modest. He seriously flipped a switch and the next hour was one giant tantrum. I thought he would get over it once he had some of my homemade whole wheat pancakes, but then I made him mad again. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111268245459473586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ru7fY3pYlLI/AAAAAAAAAIE/GBzXYwa4mRc/s320/DSC_1184.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;I don't know if you can tell from his body language, but he had just stopped crying when I took this picture. I made the mistake of giving him his pancake on the "You are Special Today" plate. He quickly set me straight by saying through his tears "No, mom I want a Bennett plate." As soon as I gave him a different plate, he started eating and was totally fine after that. I was even able to switch out this plate for the "You are Special Today" plate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5111270762310309058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ru7hrXpYlMI/AAAAAAAAAIM/go3uH5-OElY/s320/DSC_1187.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;This is the picture I was trying to get from the start--I wanted the picture to show this specific plate.  Bennett has a huge personality and is so much fun.  I can't believe he is TWO!  He has brought so much light and love into our little family and both extended families!  He made me a Mom, I am so grateful for that.  I am blessed with two great kids and an awesome husband.  Bennett, I know you can't read but WE LOVE YOU!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-6606771020630465917?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/6606771020630465917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=6606771020630465917' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6606771020630465917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/6606771020630465917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/bennett-is-two.html' title='Bennett is TWO!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Ru7a83pYlII/AAAAAAAAAHs/GeOQQ2qWqt0/s72-c/DSC_1139.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-2066524392987095721</id><published>2007-09-14T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T13:36:56.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bennett's snack</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Bennett wants to "draw" from the moment he wakes up in the morning! Well this morning was no different, with one exception. We were drawing together and apparently I was way too focused on my drawing of a house, because when I looked up at him this is what I saw:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuruG3pYlFI/AAAAAAAAAHU/1PtDUquqL34/s1600-h/DSC_1173.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110158528989402194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuruG3pYlFI/AAAAAAAAAHU/1PtDUquqL34/s320/DSC_1173.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110161200459060322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RurwiXpYlGI/AAAAAAAAAHc/EV69dV7E8bY/s320/DSC_1181.JPG" border="0" /&gt; No, my child did not spontaneously grow facial hair--he was just taste testing! He took a bite out of the black crayon and would not let me near his mouth to dig any of it out. He just sat there and chewed. He had crayon in his teeth. It was pretty gross.&lt;br /&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/3128599812290410953-2066524392987095721?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/2066524392987095721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=2066524392987095721' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2066524392987095721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/2066524392987095721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/bennetts-snack.html' title='Bennett&apos;s snack'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuruG3pYlFI/AAAAAAAAAHU/1PtDUquqL34/s72-c/DSC_1173.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4631569086111534275</id><published>2007-09-14T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T12:55:28.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where I like to store my children</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WHERE I STORE BENNETT:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Bennett is obsessed with his Dad and I don't blame him because Mark is the best. But would it hurt for him to tell Mark to go away every now and then or have an absolute meltdown when I leave to go somewhere? Well, he has done it!! More than once this week Bennett has just wanted me to hold him and only wanted me to play with him! Yes!!! I guess I will no longer have to work on forcing James to be obsessed with me.&lt;br /&gt;I do have some evidence to show just how much Bennett loves Mark! Ever since Bennett was about six months old he has watched Mark mow the lawn. He literally does not take his eyes off of Mark. Well, it has gotten to the point where I have to put him on our balcony in the front of our house to watch Mark mow the front lawn, and then I have to put him on the back porch to let him watch Mark mow the back lawn. He looks like a little prisoner when he is on the balcony, but it is pretty cute! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110142925373215714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rurf6npYk-I/AAAAAAAAAGc/Sjr2G1cV2Xs/s320/mowing3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He is quite the spectator&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110143101466874866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RurgE3pYk_I/AAAAAAAAAGk/Z6JK0rsYA_0/s320/mowing4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am sure people drive by and are concerned that we keep a toddler and a dog on our balcony!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110143320510206978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RurgRnpYlAI/AAAAAAAAAGs/2IAeEphp1ow/s320/mowing6.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;He is happy as a clam to be watching Mark mow! I wish he enjoyed watching me do the dishes or clean the toilets or do laundry this much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110143449359225874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RurgZHpYlBI/AAAAAAAAAG0/sjXHJgxOSPI/s320/mowing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The highlight of the whole thing is helping push the mower back into the garage.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;WHERE I STORE JAMES:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Well, if you thought it was bad that I keep Bennett on the balcony, wait until you see where I store James!!! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;My siblings have been helping me get my house whipped into shape for a shower I am having this weekend (Kidney stones make doing anything and everything a little bit more difficult, thanks by the way!). We were packing up all of the clothes that James has already grown out of (which is everything from 0-6 months and yes he is only 3 months) and I kept trying random things on him to see if they fit, thus the hat he is wearing in the picture.  I put him in his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bumbo&lt;/span&gt; seat on my dresser and was joking that he was like a little trophy that people use for decoration. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110148856723051554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RurlT3pYlCI/AAAAAAAAAG8/QDrD6nIr5IM/s320/DSC_1153.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;I think he is a pretty cute trophy, although it was the hardest work I have ever done for a trophy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-4631569086111534275?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4631569086111534275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4631569086111534275' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4631569086111534275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4631569086111534275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/where-i-like-to-store-my-children.html' title='Where I like to store my children'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rurf6npYk-I/AAAAAAAAAGc/Sjr2G1cV2Xs/s72-c/mowing3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-8454739481375460285</id><published>2007-09-12T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T10:57:10.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where does he come up with these things?</title><content type='html'>Bennett is a chatter box!  Everywhere we go he chooses something to say goodbye to-it doesn't matter whether it is alive or not.  These are some of the things he has said goodbye to in the last couple of days:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Bye housey (He puts a y on the end of almost everything)&lt;br /&gt;-Bye juicey&lt;br /&gt;-Bye chips (He said this as we were leaving subway and walked past the rack of chips)&lt;br /&gt;-Bye bye rocks, miss you! (We went up the canyon Monday night and let him throw rocks into water)&lt;br /&gt;-Nigh, Night Moon (He first noticed the moon about 5 months ago and when he first saw it he said "A football, oooooh reach it!" He tried reaching it for quite some time while making a straining noises)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Bennett woke up this morning all of the sudden he could speak in full and understandable sentences.  I was in my room with James and heard Mark and Bennett talking.  I came out of my room to make sure I was really hearing things correctly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bennett: Dad, are you going to church?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mark: No, I am going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bennett: I want to go to church.  I want more cereals.  I want to watch a show.  I want more orange juice. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if the language fairy came to visit Bennett in the middle of the night, but before today he only said three word sentences or tons of mumbling with a word at the end of it.  I guess it is true when they things just happen over night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-8454739481375460285?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/8454739481375460285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=8454739481375460285' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8454739481375460285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8454739481375460285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/where-does-he-come-up-with-these-things.html' title='Where does he come up with these things?'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-5506831308630697128</id><published>2007-09-10T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T15:14:33.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The World is His Canvas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR WASHABLE CRAYONS!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The World is Bennett's canvas, or at least everything in my house is! Bennett has loved to draw for a long time, but he has become my little Monet in the last couple of weeks. I have been sick for the last four or five days (With my favorite thing--KIDNEY STONES AGAIN!), but I was feeling a lot better today. So, today I decided to start putting my house back together and as I was cleaning I kept finding things that Bennett had drawn on. I feel like I keep a pretty good eye on that kid, but somehow I missed him drawing on pretty much everything!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Things he accomplished drawing on:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-The kitchen table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-The chairs at the kitchen table&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-The couch&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-James' bumbo seat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-A bath mat&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Movie covers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-His legs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-His arms&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Both of his highchair trays&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-The latest Nordstrom catalog&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-Tupperware&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-My wallet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Things I stopped him from drawing on:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Stanley (our dog)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- James' head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;- James' clothes-well he got some crayon on James pajamas one morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-The fireplace&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-His toys&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-His face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-His clothes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;-My clothes&lt;br /&gt;-Mark's clothes&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I took pictures of a few of the things that Bennett was able to express his creativity on:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108793936704119650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuYVBJPrI2I/AAAAAAAAAF8/2qBoBt-APj0/s320/DSC01707.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wallet-I think the purple crayon really adds something elegant to it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108796960361096050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuYXxJPrI3I/AAAAAAAAAGE/43AaEch_3B4/s320/DSC01708.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;His crayon strokes are so precise and exquisite on the tupperware lid!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108798455009715074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuYZIJPrI4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/f0W6k6XsyYw/s320/DSC01709.JPG" border="0" /&gt;The Nordstrom catalog--I actually caught him drawing on this, but I praised him for the following reason: 1-It is paper and I tell him 100 times a day "Bennett we only draw on paper"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;When I catch Bennett about to do something he knows he is not supposed to do (like drawing on things), he has a very mischievious look on his face like in this picture where he is about to pour water all over his little cousin, Kate:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108802591063221138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuYc45PrI5I/AAAAAAAAAGU/vOWijkbhuHc/s320/DSC_1283.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-5506831308630697128?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/5506831308630697128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=5506831308630697128' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5506831308630697128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/5506831308630697128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/world-is-his-canvas.html' title='The World is His Canvas!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuYVBJPrI2I/AAAAAAAAAF8/2qBoBt-APj0/s72-c/DSC01707.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-8279649255376246146</id><published>2007-09-04T08:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T12:46:27.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The things I catch myself saying!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107144720802062914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuA5EJPrIkI/AAAAAAAAADo/5GSv-KpD14Y/s320/DSC_1098.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Bennett using James head as a napkin-AGAIN! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;5:00 in the evening is generally the beginning of the bewitching time for our kids. Bennett's desperation for his Dad becomes compounded and he literally cannot think about anything except Mark coming home from work. Any sound he hears he pauses and listens to see if it is the garage door. He also opens the door into the garage about 5 times and says "ooooh Daddy's car, where are you?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Anyway, the other day I ventured out to the grocery store with both kids in tow (which is kind of a scary thing anyway) at about 5:30 in the evening to avoid Bennett's emotional breakdown of waiting for Mark to come home from work. Halfway through the store Bennett lost it!! What can you do? There is no where to put him in time out, I had left all of my emergency snacks in the car, and there was no way I was just going to leave. So what did I do? You better believe that I ran over to the bakery and grabbed the first donut I saw. Instantly Bennett was a total angel with his sugar donut in his hand. Everything was perfect--James was asleep in his carseat, Bennett was sitting quietly in the little seat of the cart, and I was nearly finished shopping. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Suddenly I looked down to find that James was wide awake and his face was covered in sugar. Bennett does not like to have anything on his hands, so he had been wiping the sugar from his donut all over James head and face. I quickly said "Bennett! We do not wipe our hands on James head! He is not a napkin!" As soon as I said it, I realized how funny it sounded and I started laughing at myself and my life! I was lecturing my one-year old about using his baby brother as a napkin. James had so much sugar in his hair that I had to come home and give him another bath! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-8279649255376246146?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/8279649255376246146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=8279649255376246146' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8279649255376246146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/8279649255376246146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/things-i-catch-myself-saying.html' title='The things I catch myself saying!!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RuA5EJPrIkI/AAAAAAAAADo/5GSv-KpD14Y/s72-c/DSC_1098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-1005608614572681806</id><published>2007-09-04T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T08:38:22.762-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scratch That!</title><content type='html'>In my last post I said that I put James in his Bumbo seat on the kitchen table to keep him safe from Bennett--well I guess that will no longer work. Everyday I talk to Bennett about the fact that we only sit on chairs, couches, or the floor. I was feeling very confident that my lectures were working and that he wouldn't even consider sitting on the table, but then I saw this: &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106368190714946066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rt120JPrIhI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BLFg_RfQWrA/s320/DSC01692.JPG" border="0" /&gt; I think the only place James would really be safe at this point is up on a shelf. When I saw Bennett sitting there with James on the table, I was quite scared at first. Bennett LOVES James, but that is the problem he LOVES him a little too much. He expresses love to James by laying on him, giving him tight head hugs, etc. I just stood and watched for a couple of minutes while Bennett talked to James--he put both hands on James' face and said "hi sweetie!"  Then the thing that warms my heart the most: KISSES &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106369749788074530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rt14O5PrIiI/AAAAAAAAADY/uN7J7AHDRd8/s320/DSC01694.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being soft and giving James kisses (especially when Bennett doesn't use his teeth in the "kiss") helps me get through the days of tantrums, diaper changes, mischieviousness, etc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The tender moment was short lived though, because right after Bennett kissed James he grabbed one of James' arms and started trying to play "Down by the Banks of the Hanky Panky."  James quickly started crying in response to having his arm pushed and pulled.  I rushed to save my little, helpless 3 month old when Bennett turned to me and said "Mom, James sad!"  Bennett probably says that 10 times a day if not more.  Interestingly enough, it is always said when Bennett has caused James to be "sad".  He says it like he is telling me "I didn't do anything, he just started crying right out of the blue!"  I have a feeling that James is going to be a tough kid.&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/3128599812290410953-1005608614572681806?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/1005608614572681806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=1005608614572681806' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1005608614572681806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/1005608614572681806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/scratch-that.html' title='Scratch That!'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rt120JPrIhI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BLFg_RfQWrA/s72-c/DSC01692.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-4193004843560296272</id><published>2007-09-02T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T22:31:10.718-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Summary--which is not so summarized</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I cannot believe summer is practically over! I feel like we didn't really have a summer because James was born at the beginning of summer, I had my gallbladder removed a few weeks later, my parents left to be mission presidents, and that was pretty much our summer. It didn't help that it was so stinking hot that every time I took my kids outside they looked like they turned beet red and became very grouchy. Here are some of my favorite pictures from the speedy summer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105809157771698466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt6YJPrISI/AAAAAAAAABY/fe-Col25T1I/s320/DSC_0797.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Bennett on his "trikickle" at the Kaysville parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105807766202294546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt5HJPrIRI/AAAAAAAAABQ/wNFH7LCtWP4/s320/DSC_0821.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt; My 4th of July cake--it was delicious if I do say so myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105804725365448962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt2WJPrIQI/AAAAAAAAABI/RAGcuzcxNZQ/s320/DSC_0760.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Bennett, Mark, and me at the Kaysville parade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105802964428857586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt0vpPrIPI/AAAAAAAAABA/ySQNj0pSA_Y/s320/imageCreate%255B8%255D%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;This is James at 10 weeks old during his newborn photo shoot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105810313117901106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt7bZPrITI/AAAAAAAAABg/9sbEVKzieUo/s320/imageCreateCAP2TT71%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Bennett at 22 months--Aaaaaaaaah, he is almost 2!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105812671054946626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt9kpPrIUI/AAAAAAAAABo/jE5zg-_Mzb8/s320/DSC_1300.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Bennett swimming at my parent's house in Washington.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105815050466828626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt_vJPrIVI/AAAAAAAAABw/hFg54fY5Pog/s320/DSC_0943.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Bennett and James far too early one Saturday morning--6:00am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105818121368445282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuCh5PrIWI/AAAAAAAAAB4/OOHkSVSf-Tg/s320/DSC_1105.JPG" border="0" /&gt; James in his Bumbo seat--I have to put him on the kitchen table to keep him safe from Bennett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105818894462558578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuDO5PrIXI/AAAAAAAAACA/iV1NLFhNMNg/s320/biking.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Bennett and Mark up American Fork Canyon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105819839355363714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuEF5PrIYI/AAAAAAAAACI/loefeBdEJtc/s320/DSC_1062.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Me and the boys went on a little hike while Mark was biking &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105823601746715026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuHg5PrIZI/AAAAAAAAACQ/f8GZwbLoQNQ/s320/DSC_0763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Me with the sleepy heads at Cascade Springs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105825809359905186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuJhZPrIaI/AAAAAAAAACY/uo1AG3YLAWY/s320/DSC_1079.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Bennett wearing his tie that he made in nursery--he wouldn't take it off the entire day. Mark had to tape it back together when it accidentally ripped while we were putting Bennett in his pajamas. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105826913166500274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuKhpPrIbI/AAAAAAAAACg/A9dANN_uI8A/s320/DSC_0894.JPG" border="0" /&gt;I was outside weeding when I looked over and saw that Bennett had grabbed a rake (which he calls a "shubbel"--shovel) and the glasses Mark wears when he uses the weed whacker. I said "Bennett what are you doing?" He said "Bennett helping!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105828841606816194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuMR5PrIcI/AAAAAAAAACo/jEP0NIVMJPg/s320/DSC_0479.JPG" border="0" /&gt;This was the day James was born. As you can tell Bennett is not happy!! When he came into the room to see the baby he just kept asking to "hold it". He literally wanted nothing to do with me. It was like he was mad at me because he would not look at me at all. When I tried to give him a hug he said "go away mom". It is a good thing he is cute! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105832981955289570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuQC5PrIeI/AAAAAAAAAC4/xVRxl6yhQWc/s320/DSC_0492.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;James' day of birth-May 28, 2007 &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105833866718552562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuQ2ZPrIfI/AAAAAAAAADA/cK-wtCEQKqE/s320/DSC_0754.JPG" border="0" /&gt;James' blessing day--It was less than two weeks after he was born, so that was interesting! We had to have it that soon because I wanted my parent's to be there. They left for their mission the next week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105836254720369154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/RtuTBZPrIgI/AAAAAAAAADI/7FtmNrmdmps/s320/DSC_0445.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Aren't these two the cutest! Bennett is obsessed with his Dad. Lately we have to go out and blow bubbles while Mark sneaks out the door for work. My favorite thing to hear is Bennett saying "ooooh Daddy, where are you?" He does this all day long! At night he only lets Mark put him to bed. After we brush teeth and say prayers, Bennett reluctantly gives me a kiss but then pushes me out of his room and either says "nigh-night momma" or "go away" and shuts the door so that he and Mark can read a couple of books. Mark is such an awesome dad, I love to watch him with our boys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-4193004843560296272?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/4193004843560296272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=4193004843560296272' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4193004843560296272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/4193004843560296272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/09/summer-summary-which-is-not-so.html' title='Summer Summary--which is not so summarized'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/Rtt6YJPrISI/AAAAAAAAABY/fe-Col25T1I/s72-c/DSC_0797.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3128599812290410953.post-3225080122747258587</id><published>2007-08-11T21:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-11T21:48:41.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peer Pressure</title><content type='html'>There was some serious peer pressure to start a blog, so I finally did it. I hope that this will be a good way for Mark's parents and my parents to keep up to speed with our little family. Mark's parents are serving a mission in Brazil and my parents are serving as mission president in Kennewick, Washington--YEAH, Mark and I are temporary orphans. I am really going to try to be dedicated to keeping this blog updated plus I think it is a good way for me to keep a journal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3128599812290410953-3225080122747258587?l=markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/feeds/3225080122747258587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3128599812290410953&amp;postID=3225080122747258587' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3225080122747258587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3128599812290410953/posts/default/3225080122747258587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://markandlindsayhorne.blogspot.com/2007/08/peer-pressure.html' title='Peer Pressure'/><author><name>Lindsay</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00643633915064470147</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CtyXYCeBDZM/SsrZ_ssW2KI/AAAAAAAAA50/uW23v54hLAA/S220/DSC_3622.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
