Privacy Policy

PR is welcome. Please remember we’re a family friendly site.

Privacy Policy for We are THAT Family.com for Google advertising

The privacy of our visitors to We are THAT Family.com is important to us. 

At We are THAT Family.com, we recognize that privacy of your personal information is important. Here is information on what types of personal information we receive and collect when you use and visit We are THAT Family.com, and how we safeguard your information.  We never sell your personal information to third parties.

Log Files
As with most other websites, we collect and use the data contained in log files.  The information in the log files include  your IP (internet protocol) address, your ISP (internet service provider, such as AOL or Shaw Cable), the browser you used to visit our site (such as Internet Explorer or Firefox), the time you visited our site and which pages you visited throughout our site. 

Cookies and Web Beacons
We do use cookies to store information, such as your personal preferences when you visit our site.  This could include only showing you a popup once in your visit, or the ability to login to some of our features, such as forums.

  • Google, as a third party vendor, uses cookies to serve ads on your site.
  • Google’s use of the DART cookie enables it to serve ads to your users based on their visit to your sites and other sites on the Internet.
  • Users may opt out of the use of the DART cookie by visiting the Google ad and content network privacy policy

We also use third party advertisements on We are THAT Family.com to support our site.  Some of these advertisers may use technology such as cookies and web beacons when they advertise on our site, which will also send these advertisers (such as Google through the Google AdSense program) information including your IP address, your ISP , the browser you used to visit our site, and in some cases, whether you have Flash installed.  This is generally used for geotargeting purposes (showing New York real estate ads to someone in New York, for example) or showing certain ads based on specific sites visited (such as showing cooking ads to someone who frequents cooking sites).

You can chose to disable or selectively turn off our cookies or third-party cookies in your browser settings, or by managing preferences in programs such as Norton Internet Security.  However, this can affect how you are able to interact with our site as well as other websites.  This could include the inability to login to services or programs, such as logging into forums or accounts.

This Disclosure policy is valid from 05 May 2009 This blog is a personal blog written and edited by me. This blog may accept forms of cash advertising, sponsorship, paid insertions or other forms of compensation.  

This blog abides by word of mouth marketing standards. We believe in honesty of relationship, opinion and identity. The compensation received may influence the advertising content, topics or posts made in this blog. That content, advertising space or post will be clearly identified as paid or sponsored content. The owner(s) of this blog is not compensated to provide opinion on products, services, websites and various other topics. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the blog owners. If we claim or appear to be experts on a certain topic or product or service area, we will only endorse products or services that we believe, based on our expertise, are worthy of such endorsement. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer or provider. The owner(s) of this blog would like to disclose the following existing relationships. These are companies, organizations or individuals that may have a significant impact on the content of this blog. To get your own policy, go to http://www.disclosurepolicy.org

WFMW

For the complete index of previous Works-For-Me Wednesdays archives at Rocks in My Dryer, click here. For a complete index of new Works-For-Me Wednesday hosted at We are THAT family, click here.

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WFMW is every Wednesday. Upcoming themed editions of Works-For-Me-Wednesday (the first Wednesday of each month):

[May. 5th: “Backwards Edition: Ask your readers a question and have them share their tips with you!”]

[June 2nd: “Mom: I’m Bored Edition-this list might just get you thru summer!”]

[July 7th: “Bathroom and Kitchen Edition”-Share your best tips for organizing and cleaning these important room!]

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Thank you for your interest in WFMW! This carnival was started and hosted by Rocks in My Dryer for the past 3 years. She recently handed it off to me and I couldn’t be more excited! Thank you, Shannon for your investment in the blogging community.

This is the same carnival, no changes, except the hosting

location!

Works-For-Me Wednesday Guidelines:






1.So what exactly IS Works-For-Me Wednesday (WFMW), anyway?

WFMW is a “blog carnival” (that concept is explained here). Basically, the idea is that on Wednesday you post a little tip you’ve learned on any (G-rated) topic–anything that has “worked for you” in making your life easier. You post a link back here to my WFMW post, and enter your link in the “Mr. Linky” form at the bottom of my post.

2. You do not have to ask me first before you participate in WFMW. Just jump right in.

3. You are not required to use the WFMW banner, though you are more than welcome to do so.

If you do, please be sure you’re using the the current one, at the top of this post. If you don’t know how to add an image to your post, you can follow the instructions here.

4. Please only leave a link if you have written a WFMW post. Please mention WFMW in your post, and link back to my master list here.

From here on out, I’ll just delete “empty” links.

5. Link to your WFMW post, not to the front page of your blog.

This makes browsing so much easier for everyone, especially when people browse around in the archives. For an explanation on how to do this, go here.

6. Please DO NOT host your own WFMW “Mr. Linky” at your site.

I’d like to keep We are THAT Family as the only homepage for Works-For-Me Wednesday, for simplicity’s sake.

7. Please be patient with your e-mail questions.

In particular, if you have a question that could be answered by using the “Help” section in your blogging software (“How do I upload images?” or “How do I link back to you from my page?”), please check there for answers first.

8. When you enter your link on Mr. Linky, you will most likely notice that it says “delete link” next to your name. If you click on that, it will let you delete what you just posted. No one else can see it, just like you can’t see the “delete link” next to my name on my computer.

9. Enter a 3-4 word description of your post, in parentheses, after you put your name. Be descripti
ve, be specific, and BE BRIEF.

For example, where the box below says “Your Name”, you might put:

Melissa (Uses for Bleach)

-OR-

Julie (Kids’ Crafts)

-OR-

Mary (Organizing Toys)

Make sense? This will make it a jillion times easier to browse through the tips. PLEASE KEEP YOUR PARENTHETICAL TITLE TO A MAXIMUM OF 4 WORDS. Mr. Linky freaks out sometimes when the “Your Name” portion gets too long, and it can mess up the alignment of the whole deal, making it harder to read.

10. I’ll put my WFMW post up no later than 12:01 am (central time) each Wednesday. Frequently, I’ll have it up an hour or two earlier.

I know this is a lot of information! Please know that I’m just trying to find a way to make it easier for people to browse through all your wonderful ideas. Thank you SO much for participating in this–YOU are the reason it is such a success!

11. I reserve the right to delete any links that are inappropriate.

The Date- Part V


If you’re new, you can read about what started this cowboy party here.  Part two is here. And three.  Part four is over yonder.  Don’t forget to leave a comment on the last four days of posts to win this. You have until midnight tonight.


And yesterday’s winner of some very fine music is Heather J. (My daughter’s drew the name. Her hands were sticky.  We went the one that stuck first.)


Date night arrived and we were ready!  Hubby had his costume on.  I wore my new boots proudly.


They killed my feet.


But I didn’t say a word.  I lovingly wore them and I have the blisters to prove it.


Getting to a concert at the Rodeo is an ordeal. We sat in traffic and pushed our way thru to a parking lot.  From the parking lot, you pay to ride a bus.  The last time I rode a rodeo bus, my son ruined ALL future bus rides.  Just sitting down, caused a rush of emotions and nausea.  


From there, we stood in line to have our tickets scanned and went up 4 of these.  To our good seats.


I use the word ‘good’ loosely.


 


I kept squeezing my hubby’s arms and saying, “ Isn’t this fun?”  


It wasn’t so much that it was fun, yet.  I was free of children.  At the Rodeo.  With my beloved. And in the same building with Rascal Flats.


Fun.  It was going to be.


We walked another million steps to the nose bleed section.  Good thing I wore my new, comfy boots.


We sat down.  The Rodeo had just begun.  Now the Rodeo was built around cowboys and cowgirls doing their thing.  Down here in the south, these guys are athletes.  The concerts are a huge draw, but it’s really all about the roping and racing.  


For some people.


But for the rest of the crowd, it is about showing off their attire.


 

  and

 

And their assets. Plenty of assets.


 


Of course, this is why I attended:


 


Funny thing happened with those nachos.  At least, it cracked me up.  But I’m learned that just because I thin
k it’s funny, doesn’t mean the man in front of me at the Rodeo thinks it’s funny.  


As the hubby and I were wolfing down our healthy, balanced meal of nacho-grossness, a big glob of cheesy goodness fell off my chip and in S-L-O-W motion, landed on the arm of the man’s nice western duds in front of me.  


He did not even notice.


Which of course made me giggle uncontrollably.  We stared at the glob for 4.75 minutes.  My hubby finally leaned up and told him.  He took the blame. I love that man.  True chivalry, right there ladies and gentlemen.


Just as the cowboys finished roping those poor calves and the cowgirls started running the barrels, a drunken brawl broke out in the row beside ours.


Okay.  It wasn’t so much a brawl.  But it did include a drunk.


class="style_1" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 19px; opacity: 1; ">This man dumped his entire long neck bottle down a ladies back.  I don’t know if he dozed off into a drunken stupor or if he just was bored.  But the ladies husband, decidedly chivalrous, but in an ugly way, started screaming and cussing at the drunk.


Oh my lands.  I listened to every word. Stared with an open mouth.  And downright, enjoyed myself!  I’m a stay at home mom, remember?


My hubby and I snuggled up close and settled in for some country music.  Rascal Flatts came out on the stage and sang their heart out.  It was glorious.


  an>


But anticipation is funny.  I knew the food would be sinful.  I wanted to watch the little calves run from the ropes because they liked being chased. I wanted to people watch and make fun,quietly. I thought all these things would make it great and that the highlight would be listening to our favorite band at the Rodeo.


It wasn’t. 


He was the best part.  Holding the hand of a strong man.  Being his girl, that was the best.  I have a good man.  I mean, a good man.  And this whole rodeo thing reminded me of why I chose him for the long road.  We have a crazy life.  The road has had obstacles, even some nasty surprises, but  I wouldn’t change a thing.


Thru thick and thin, he’s my part’ner  (said with the most southern accent you can imagine).


Yee-haw ya’ll and thanks for sticking around!


Check back on Monday to see if you won the Texas Dinner Bell.

We Ride Again-Part IV

I hope you’re enjoying our western fun and Rodeo mayhem.  This madness ends tomorrow, so hang on to your hats!  If you’re new, you can read about what started this cowboy party here.  Part two is here. And three.  Don’t forget to leave a comment to winthis.   


As you may remember, we recently got in touch with our rodeo roots.  It had been years since we’d actually gone to the Rodeo. We decided to tempt fate.  Again.  Since we are THAT family, we don’t do this often because you know, anything can happen.  I mean, we tempt fate all the time, but not on purpose.  Most of our disasters are unplanned.  


But this, this we planned.  


The hubby took a day off.  Wednesday, during Spring Break. It was designed to be a break for me on hump-day.  I needed it, considering the break from school, and all, and unattended children wandering around the home.


The Texas Livestock Show is awesome.  It would take days to see it all.  So we focused on two things, since we were toting a one year old with us.  She could go berzerko at any given moment.  And see?  We knew this. It’s called insight.


First, we visited Tommy G. Productions Mutton Bustin’.  What the heck is that, you ask?  Excellent question.  I didn’t even know a sheep was called a mutton.  Really.  I’d heard of a ewe.  But, mutton?  Nope.  See?  I earned my college reputation for being slow, honestly. (My husband advised I not put that in here, but I’m all about revealing my stupidity in order to make you feel better about your intelligence.  I’m nice that way.)


I  did remember a Seinfeld episode where Jerry refuses to eat mutton and spits it into his Nana’s napkin.  So, at least I knew it was meat and not a rare disease of the spleen  . . .  or something.  But leaning on old Seinfeld episodes to help in daily life can really limit you.


Well, my son fit the criteria to participate in the Mutton Bustin’.  He was under six years of age and under 60 pounds.  My husband helped him ‘geer up.’ He was going to ride a sheep, like a cowboy rides a bull.  Only he’s a child.  And it’s a sheep. ‘Geering up’ is the process in which you try to protect your five year old’s VITAL organs in case he is thrown by a rabid sheep.  I’m pretty sure this was in the release form I signed. 



This is my offspring HANGING ON FOR DEAR LIFE, while riding said sheep.


I must admit this is something I NEVER thought one of my children would do, you know, ride a smelly, hairy, SHEEP in public, for nothing other than the honor of doing so.  Of course, I screamed and hollered like a mad woman and I mean, what mother wouldn’t be proud of this.


 


Or this:


 

This was right before his precious body was bucked off the wild animal and landed in a heap of lamb poo.  


It was a fine moment.


This is just one of hundreds of fun things to do at the Rodeo.  Most of them are just as important and life altering.  My son did smell unique the rest of the day.


After checking for open wounds and lacerations, we moseyed over to the Kids Agricultural Exhibition, our second destination of the day.  


Okay.  This was the highlight of my day.  I mean, other than watching my only son put his life in danger.  


Chicks.  Who knew a display of eggs and chicks could make me feel so maternal.


There was this incredible display of eggs and chickens in the various stages of life: egg, egg cracking, half egg, half chick, wet newborn chick with eyes closed, tiny chick hopping around.  It was fascinating, watching the little fellows struggle to crack open their eggs.  Did you know it takes them 16 hours to do so?  


I’m educating my kids with all my chicken knowledge.  We stood there for eons. You know, because I’m so full of knowledge.


My kids and hubby walked away s-l-o-w-l-y from me when I started talking to the chicks, as any mother would do. 

Apparently, I was sorta loud.  But I think it meant a lot, to the chicks.


They found this, waaaaayyy more interesting:


 


I guess tractors are sexy, in a John Deer, sort of way.


e="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); line-height: 19px; opacity: 1; font-size:14px;">Exposing my children to the live birth of a calf was even more than I could handle, so we walked past Mommy Row quickly.  I don’t have pictures because well, it’s humiliating enough for the cows to be giving birth AT the rodeo IN front of hundreds of people.  It was the least I could do to turn off the flash.  My contribution to the farming community.


Our toddler had fun petting her first calf.  


 

This was the Borden’s milk exhibit.  I think she liked the strawberry samples of Borden’s milk even better than the animals.  Any why wouldn’t she?  It’s my favorite too, next tosweet tea.


 


A kiddie highlight was strolling down aisle after aisle of various farm animals that junior high and high school kids were grooming to show.  Dodging the poo in the aisle proved to be quite the challenge too. After my husband explained all the work involved and that these kids were skipping school to do it, my kids were ready to move to the country and sign up.  Because cleaning up the dung of heifers, is way better than math.  Any day.


 


As we were leaving (while the kids were still having fun-key to smart parenting), we walked past this HUGE Texas longhorn and couldn’t pass up the chance of putting our children’s lives in harm’s way, one more time.


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When grandma saw this picture she said, “Well, that’s not a real cow is it?”  


Like we’d pay $7 to put our kids on a fake cow. Of course it’s real, see the foam dripping from it’s mouth?  Nothing like paying to sit on a thirsty Texas Longhorn, for fun.


I love the Rodeo.


And of course, this is what my kids looked like on the way home from the Rodeo.  They smelled similar too.


 


It was an amazing day, free of temper tantrums, complaining and sibling rivalry. I am so THANKFUL for the little things.


Maybe we should simplify and move to the country, after all. 


Since every rendezvous needs a surprise, I am giving away the newest Rascal Flatts CD, Still Feels Good, today!  You just need to leave a comment by 10 p.m. Texas time.  Winner will be announced in tomorrow’s final rodeo post.  The Texas Dinner Bell will be announced March 31st. You must leave a comment at  each post this week to qualify for that random drawing (because you really gotta want it and I have a low self esteem and comments help me.)


Come back tomorrow for the final Rendezvous day . . . . our date with Rascal Flatts.  Well, not really with them, but I did have this dream once, and–oh, never mind.  I’ll tell ya later.