<?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-36549150</id><updated>2011-10-04T11:32:44.699-07:00</updated><category term='December Blahs....'/><title type='text'>Normal Is Just a Setting on the Washing Machine</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>122</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5215503841287061533</id><published>2011-02-01T10:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-01T10:08:12.575-08:00</updated><title type='text'>100 day.... otherwise know as the stupidest celebration in elementary school</title><content type='html'>It is 100 Day. Only the younger elementary school set celebrate this milestone, so after I survive it with one kid, I manage to forget about it for a couple years- until the next kid brings home the note informing me that we are supposed to find 100 things of our choice and then find a way to creatively display said 100 things and send them in to school.&amp;nbsp; Generally I see the note the day that the project is due to be turned in, rendering me into a completely panicked mess.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was bad enough with the previous two kids, who went to afternoon kindergarden while I did not work yet. That at least gave me a few extra hours to work with.&amp;nbsp; This time, I found out at 6:30am, and we needed to leave at 7:30am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I thought. Not a problem, I thought. Screw creative. We'll draw a number 100 on a piece of construction paper and glue a hundred little pieces of cereal to it.&amp;nbsp; Good plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I discovered that we did not have any elmer's glue, anywhere in the entire house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried a glue stick. Nope. Stuff didn't stick right. I called my husband, hoping he could save the day. He was too far away already, lucky man.&amp;nbsp; I went to take my shower, hoping inspiration would strike and I wouldn't be forced to send the kid to school project-less and look like a bad bad disorganized mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inspiration struck, but it was my smart husband who had the brilliant idea, not me.&amp;nbsp; He called me up and said, glue gun! Use the hot glue gun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day was saved, the project completed, and all the kids made it to school on time. I call that a successful morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5215503841287061533?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5215503841287061533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5215503841287061533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5215503841287061533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5215503841287061533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2011/02/100-day-otherwise-know-as-stupidest.html' title='100 day.... otherwise know as the stupidest celebration in elementary school'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3156860802976933055</id><published>2011-01-21T10:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-21T10:57:46.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework... It's worse than laundry!</title><content type='html'>I finished up the IDEA legislation paper, turned it in, and (praise God) it passed. So I did the good student thing, and looked to see what's next on the to do list for earning my three credits in Diversity and Inclusion.&amp;nbsp; Let me just say that ignorance was such bliss.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the assignment itself that is a problem for me. I can write essay after essay after essay. But the laundry list of how many sources I must use, and exactly how many of each specified type, and must cite each and every one in my paper somehow, welllll, that's a little bit of a problem. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten pages on two minority cultures I am likely to teach and how characteristics of those particular cultures are likely to affect classroom interactions? Not two bad, until you throw in the exact and nitpicky requirements for the ten or so sources I'm supposed to use. And not one of the sources I want to use can be found at the library I work at. And I'm only allowed to borrow two at a time through Inter Library Loan at the library I work at. So, after a year and a half at WGU, it is finally time to use those library fees I've been handing over, and learn how to use the ELibrary. Wish me luck. I'm going to need it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3156860802976933055?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3156860802976933055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3156860802976933055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3156860802976933055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3156860802976933055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2011/01/homework-its-worse-than-laundry.html' title='Homework... It&apos;s worse than laundry!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-427989265558390413</id><published>2011-01-06T12:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T12:04:43.481-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Homework, Housework, and Work</title><content type='html'>My life in a nutshell, lately.&amp;nbsp; Homework, housework, and work.&amp;nbsp; I am working on another incredibly mind numbingly boring essay on the IDEA legislation.&amp;nbsp; Recommended length is five pages. I have seven so far, and I'm not done yet.&amp;nbsp; I may have to reduce the font size to oh, about 6..... hope the grader have good reading glasses!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-427989265558390413?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/427989265558390413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=427989265558390413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/427989265558390413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/427989265558390413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2011/01/homework-housework-and-work.html' title='Homework, Housework, and Work'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7872159064960200428</id><published>2011-01-03T09:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T09:55:10.093-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday, Baby Taz!</title><content type='html'>Three years ago today, our family became complete.&amp;nbsp; Our little Baby Taz arrived, rocked our world, turned it upside down, and wrapped every last one of us around her little finger.&amp;nbsp; Life has not been the same since.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is defiant, independant, and very sweet.&amp;nbsp; She is tough, mischievious, and so very smart.&amp;nbsp; She&amp;nbsp;seems to&amp;nbsp;have&amp;nbsp;boundless energy, and will run until she collapses.&amp;nbsp; I can't count how many times I've had to pick spaghetti out of her hair or clean chili out of her ears.&amp;nbsp; She refuses to be left out of anything her big sister or brothers are doing.... regardless of the consequences.&amp;nbsp; She's very little for her age, leading people to believe she's only barely two, but she's certainly as mature as any other three year old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, we will have cake and ice cream. We will watch her open her presents. And we will marvel at where the time has gone so quickly.&amp;nbsp; It seems like just yesterday that I was nursing a squishy little baby, and now she's doing it all by herself.&amp;nbsp; Sigh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7872159064960200428?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7872159064960200428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7872159064960200428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7872159064960200428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7872159064960200428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2011/01/happy-birthday-baby-taz.html' title='Happy Birthday, Baby Taz!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-169354790055098675</id><published>2011-01-03T09:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T09:18:26.100-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Happenings</title><content type='html'>What a wonderful, relaxing weekend!&amp;nbsp; What a great start to the New Year!&amp;nbsp; I played computer games with Bug and Hubs, cleaned the house some, read book one and half of book two of the Percy Jackson series with Bug.&amp;nbsp; I put together a puzzle &lt;strike&gt;Hubs&lt;/strike&gt; Santa gave me for Christmas with Monkey-boy, and that inspired Baby Taz to start trying her hand at puzzles.&amp;nbsp; She's still getting the concept, but I'm proud of her for trying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-169354790055098675?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/169354790055098675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=169354790055098675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/169354790055098675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/169354790055098675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-years-happenings.html' title='New Year&apos;s Happenings'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8008818535785731905</id><published>2010-12-30T10:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:16:23.569-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's Our Sign....</title><content type='html'>Yesterday afternoon, Bug asked if&amp;nbsp;he could play a computer game.&amp;nbsp; I told him sure, but don't be surprised to get kicked off soon, since Daddy is on his way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blink. Blink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did Daddy get fired?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Noooo, why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He never comes home before bedtime. Are you sure he didn't get fired?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I'm sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that our sign that the man works entirely too much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8008818535785731905?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8008818535785731905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8008818535785731905' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8008818535785731905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8008818535785731905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2010/12/heres-our-sign.html' title='Here&apos;s Our Sign....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2918914995394833268</id><published>2010-12-29T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:39:46.987-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello again</title><content type='html'>I work in a library. I am not a librarian. I wish I were a librarian. Maybe then I might get paid enough to cover a bill or two. No, I have a fancy title, “Law Library Assistant” that nets me minimum wage and some very strange questions from the library patrons. One of the most memorable of these would be the gentleman who wanted me to help him ascertain if he is married.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not kidding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been married twice, and divorced once, and yet somehow, I have never been confused as to what my marital status might be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. Four hours a day, Monday thru Friday, I pretend to know something about the law, and pretend to be working. I get a lot of homework done here at work. Which is good, since it doesn’t happen so much at home, what with the kids and husband expecting me to do silly things like, ummm, feed them, and give them a clean house to live in and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been absent a very long time. I’ve been busy. We moved to Colorado to help take care of my mom, who, as it turns out, only wanted our help in theory. The reality was a tad different. &lt;br /&gt;We moved back, thankful our house didn’t sell, and hoped to pick up where we left off. Feel free to drink the Kool Aid with me, it’s some good stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubs worked three jobs for awhile, and I job hunted like mad til I landed the library gig. Hubs’ dedication to work wound up screwing up his resume by making it look like he couldn’t hold a job- none of the HR idiots bothered to read the dates to see that he held three at once, not three in a row. He finally got on at Rimrock drilling, which he loved, then got laid off. After a couple months of him going so stir crazy that he painted the house purple (again, not kidding, our house is now a landmark), he landed a job at a certain soft drink company that I can’t name for fear they’ll fire him since I don’t have one single nice thing to say about them. We thought everything would be better, but really, he’s on salary and the company he works for that shall remain nameless seems to think that salary means they own his ass. He has gotten one full weekend off in four months. He works more now than he did when he was a driller and gets paid less than half what he got paid as a driller. Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past year, I have been rejected many time while job hunting, and for a promotion too. No big deal. Dealt with the family fallout of choosing my kids over my mom. Really, not impossible to handle. Waded through financial woes like I’d never had to deal with before. I think we’ll survive. &lt;br /&gt;Through it all, I leaned on God, and prayed a lot. I thought I had this faith thing all figured out. Now I know the truth. And the truth is that I’m a naïve, trusting, idiot. While I still believe in God, I no longer believe that going to church is really in my best interest, or that of my family. Because that’s where I got the knife in my back that will probably never fully quit bleeding. Put there by my former pastor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I’m back to my blog, a little wiser, more bitter (but trying not to be- don't worry, I'll get past it), but hopefully tougher than before. I’m back because I want to remember the happy and the good as well as the crappy. I want to look back and think, I survived that so I’m sure I can survive this. And I want to remember all the cute, funny, and downright maddening things my kids do. Because they are already getting way too big, way too fast, and my steel trap of a brain has given way to a steel sieve of a memory. So here I am again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2918914995394833268?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2918914995394833268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2918914995394833268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2918914995394833268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2918914995394833268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2010/12/hello-again.html' title='Hello again'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7589352437587323627</id><published>2008-01-21T10:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:38:23.640-08:00</updated><title type='text'>All better.... sort of</title><content type='html'>The pain became too much to handle pretty quickly, so I dropped off the older kids with my in-laws and headed down to the ER. Turns out, I had a temp of 100 and mastitis in both br**sts. I also was diagnosed with postpartum depression. Not a huge surprise, considering I'd been see-sawing between crying jags and temper tantrums for at least a few days. Today is my first day on the Zoloft, and it feels very strange.... kind of like my head is in a fog.&amp;nbsp;Hubs was very surprised when I told him, but when he really started thinking, he agreed with my suspicion that this has been going on for a couple of months now. He actually seems kind of relieved to have an answer to what is wrong with his wife.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7589352437587323627?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7589352437587323627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7589352437587323627' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7589352437587323627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7589352437587323627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2008/01/all-better-sort-of.html' title='All better.... sort of'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2682163524908201205</id><published>2008-01-20T09:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-20T09:26:30.238-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouchie</title><content type='html'>I think I may have mastitis.  Do I suffer for the next day and a half until the holiday weekend is over, or do I go to the emergency room?  I hate the thought of a $100 copay if I could wait it out and only pay $15.  And I really hate the thought of the emergency room with all these kids who, quite frankly, have not been behaving for anything lately.  But, wow, does this ever hurt!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2682163524908201205?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2682163524908201205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2682163524908201205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2682163524908201205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2682163524908201205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2008/01/ouchie.html' title='Ouchie'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3048858301943550138</id><published>2008-01-18T12:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:37:00.783-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here she is!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/R5EOZ2UVL5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/WtZqWeyx_2c/s1600-h/01-18-08_0929.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156918885556236178" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/R5EOZ2UVL5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/WtZqWeyx_2c/s320/01-18-08_0929.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is my little baby Taz. I took picture after picture, and got very frustrated because they just don't look as cute as she really is in person. I can't seem to get an angle that does her justice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we were choosing names,&amp;nbsp;Hubs suggested naming her after me, or his mother. I didn't see how I could name her after me and not look egotistical, so we found a name that has the same meaning as mine, life, and then gave her the same middle name as Hubs's mother. I definitely had to laugh when my grandfather said it's a weird name. After all, it's no stranger than the name Vida!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3048858301943550138?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3048858301943550138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3048858301943550138' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3048858301943550138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3048858301943550138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2008/01/here-she-is.html' title='Here she is!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/R5EOZ2UVL5I/AAAAAAAAAFA/WtZqWeyx_2c/s72-c/01-18-08_0929.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6569668916296918472</id><published>2008-01-09T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:36:18.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>We are snowed in. That storm that made the news in California crossed the Sierra Nevadas and found us, though thankfully somewhat subdued. This could hardly have happened at a better time for me..... I really didn't want to drag baby Taz&amp;nbsp;out any more than I have to, so not making the three trips to and from the school is a welcome break.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6569668916296918472?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6569668916296918472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6569668916296918472' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6569668916296918472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6569668916296918472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2008/01/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8795188569636159638</id><published>2008-01-08T13:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:35:17.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Backwards</title><content type='html'>Taz&amp;nbsp;is sleeping soundly.... therefore, it must be daytime. It's so funny how much better she sleeps with lots of light and all the household noise. She's a tiny thing, and so good natured. Her siblings are already in love with her, as are we all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8795188569636159638?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8795188569636159638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8795188569636159638' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8795188569636159638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8795188569636159638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2008/01/backwards.html' title='Backwards'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8344894449987131958</id><published>2008-01-05T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:35:50.939-08:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Here!</title><content type='html'>Z. K.arrived on January 3rd. She weighed 6lbs, 4 oz, and is 19 inches long. She's beautiful! Here, she will be known as Taz. You can guess why.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8344894449987131958?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8344894449987131958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8344894449987131958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8344894449987131958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8344894449987131958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2008/01/shes-here.html' title='She&apos;s Here!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-9213765586316500435</id><published>2007-12-17T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:26:46.618-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking back</title><content type='html'>I've been horrible about posting regularly since becoming pregnant. I'm not sure why that is, since pregnancy only seemed to halt my life once in awhile. But now that the end of the pregnancy and beginning of new mommy-hood is looming (again), it seems as though it flew. Then again, the last three years have really flown. I married&amp;nbsp;Hubs three years ago friday, and it was one of the smartest things I've ever done. It's amazing how much we have both grown and changed, and I know that much of the personal growth I've experience would not have happened without him in my life. I literally thank God for him every day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-9213765586316500435?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/9213765586316500435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=9213765586316500435' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/9213765586316500435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/9213765586316500435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/12/looking-back.html' title='Looking back'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-709297673743190013</id><published>2007-11-30T06:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:26:10.725-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Too many doctors!</title><content type='html'>Between my normal OB visits, which are every two weeks now, and Bug's appointments with and eye doctor, a GP to look into sinusitus (which may lead to an E.N.T. for the same), and the neurologist for a sleep study...... Well, December just got a lot more hectic than it already was. &lt;br /&gt;To top it all off I really need to get both my boys in for haircuts. They're starting to look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, I'm very close to done with my shopping for Christmas, and I kept it pretty much under control. I can't walk in my closet right now, but that'll change once I start wrapping things in my spare time. I just don't know what to get for my parents, and I really want to show them how much I appreciate them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-709297673743190013?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/709297673743190013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=709297673743190013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/709297673743190013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/709297673743190013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/11/too-many-doctors.html' title='Too many doctors!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-331578211241128707</id><published>2007-11-28T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:25:32.190-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Phew!</title><content type='html'>It's been busy, hectic, and nonstop around here, and I'm not even talking about the holidays. We took&amp;nbsp;Bug to Reno to see a neurologist about headaches he's been getting, and the preparations about did me in. In the end it all worked out, though. We now know that his CT scan came back normal except for what looks like it might be sinusitis, of all things. So we're now looking into that, and&amp;nbsp;Hubs will have to take&amp;nbsp;Bug back to Reno soon to do a sleep study to explore the Dr.'s other theory as to the cause of his headaches. I'm so relieved that it doesn't appear to be anything serious. The fact that there might be a cure is a great bonus, considering that I really expected them to tell me that he's a very young migraine sufferer and would have to learn to live with them. We're thanking God a lot around here lately!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-331578211241128707?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/331578211241128707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=331578211241128707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/331578211241128707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/331578211241128707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/11/phew.html' title='Phew!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8812626285736843781</id><published>2007-11-16T06:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T06:33:16.793-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Willpower is just not my strength</title><content type='html'>Well, we found out.  The doctor said it was very clear, and he really wanted to give us a picture, so we folded.  And yet we haven't told anyone else.  It's turning out to be very fun to drive them nuts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8812626285736843781?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8812626285736843781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8812626285736843781' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8812626285736843781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8812626285736843781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/11/willpower-is-just-not-my-strength.html' title='Willpower is just not my strength'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-33071180656783564</id><published>2007-10-30T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:24:07.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To wait, or not to wait....</title><content type='html'>Our ultrasound is quickly approaching and we cannot seem to decide whether we should find out the gender. I should probably say I can't decide, because I'm reasonably sure that&amp;nbsp;Hubs would happily go with whatever I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see numerous reasons to find out. It might help the kids adjust to this baby a little quicker if they knew what we're having. Instead of talking about "the baby" as an abstract concept, we'd be able to talk about a person with a gender and probably a name. And, we have no girl baby clothes smaller than 18mo sizes because I thought I was done after Kat, so if it's a girl, knowing would help with the shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing would be fun, too. I'm really enjoying driving all of the relatives nuts! They know the baby will get a family name, but they don't know any more than that, and the anticipation seems to be just eating some of them alive. Besides, the surprise might be fun for us too, since we are definitely done this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-33071180656783564?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/33071180656783564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=33071180656783564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/33071180656783564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/33071180656783564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/10/to-wait-or-not-to-wait.html' title='To wait, or not to wait....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-9023114897831102946</id><published>2007-10-21T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T08:26:24.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>scary</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamed I went in for a normal prenatal checkup and wound up giving birth.  Scary thought, since I'm nowhere near term yet.  In the dream the baby was a completely healthy boy, interesting as I've been thinking we'll have a girl.  We really don't know, though.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-9023114897831102946?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/9023114897831102946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=9023114897831102946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/9023114897831102946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/9023114897831102946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/10/scary.html' title='scary'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3902649759004559944</id><published>2007-10-14T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-14T08:02:39.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update, since I've been lazy about posting...</title><content type='html'>Our mom's group meeting was a lot of fun!  About half the people who said they'd be there actually were, and I saw that as a pretty good start.  However, after shopping the case lot sales, going into a cleaning frenzy in anticipation of guests, and lifting a two year into his car seat one time too many, something sorta gave in me, and I hurt myself.  The doctor thinks I strained the round ligaments in my belly and pulled a muscle or two in my lower back.  I've been ordered not to sweep, mop, vaccuum, clean the bathroom, pick up my kids, or lift anything else of any real weight.  No danger to the baby, just to my comfort and ability to walk until this baby is born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During all of that fun, I was supposed to organize our next mom's meeting, planned for this thursday.  After a brief panic, I decided to dispense with doing a craft til next time, and announced that we're having Choctoberfest.  (I stole that idea from a brilliant suggestion I found on Works for Me Wednesday at Rocks in My Dryer.)  Then I sucked in my pride and asked for help getting the house ready.  I hate to ask for help more than almost anything.  When help is offered, I'm more than happy to accept, but asking for it seems to cause my brain to short circuit.  But it seems I will have to learn how for the time being.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3902649759004559944?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3902649759004559944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3902649759004559944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3902649759004559944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3902649759004559944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/10/update-since-ive-been-lazy-about.html' title='Update, since I&apos;ve been lazy about posting...'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4551792825241577866</id><published>2007-10-05T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-05T09:22:05.943-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stumbling, Slipping, Sliding toward Success</title><content type='html'>Today, I am hosting a pot luck dinner at my home in an attempt to start a mothers group.  The plan is to have a bunch of moms from church and anyone else who might be interested come over for dinner, chat, and discuss what we want in such a group.  I had hoped to send all of children outside to play for at least a portion of the meeting, but, as luck would have it, today we are recieving our first good snowfall of the year.  The crockpot I planned to use to make chili didn't come clean in the dishwasher, and I ran out of places to put away all the canned goods I bought at the case lot sales.  If it sounds like I'm griping, I'm not.  You see, I have learned that the things that are the most worth it are usually accompanied by all kinds of these little annoyances.  So, I'm hoping that all of the annoying slip ups mean that tonight will go great!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4551792825241577866?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4551792825241577866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4551792825241577866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4551792825241577866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4551792825241577866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/10/stumbling-slipping-sliding-toward.html' title='Stumbling, Slipping, Sliding toward Success'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2058774131173646959</id><published>2007-09-26T06:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T06:38:14.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WFMW</title><content type='html'>Today is &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/"&gt;Works for Me Wednesday&lt;/a&gt;, and I think I have a tip to share!  After the first few weeks of struggling to get his morning chores done on time before school, I instituted a new rule:  No breakfast until the kid in question is completely ready to walk out the door for school.  It sounds mean, but he has only missed out on breakfast once in almost two weeks of this new rule.  So, that's what Works For Me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2058774131173646959?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2058774131173646959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2058774131173646959' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2058774131173646959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2058774131173646959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/wfmw.html' title='WFMW'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8066841451197700637</id><published>2007-09-24T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T06:45:50.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Preggy Funny</title><content type='html'>A good sign you're pregnant: You wake up on the toilet, with no recollection of how you got there, and you are not at all surprised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8066841451197700637?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8066841451197700637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8066841451197700637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8066841451197700637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8066841451197700637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/preggy-funny.html' title='Preggy Funny'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3790269749045531825</id><published>2007-09-24T15:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:20:26.657-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ummm, now what?</title><content type='html'>So. The cute little Denver Broncos football uniform arrived. I unpacked it with all three kids watching eagerly. I explained that whichever of them it fit could wear it. Yeeeeaaaah. Slight problem there. See, the helmet fits Bug's noggin nicely. The jersey is about right for Kat. And the little, and I do mean little, pants probably fit Monkey-boy. I haven't had the guts to let him try it on, because I don't think he'll let me take it back off of him til I have to surgically remove it. Since seeing the cute little thing, he's been relentlessly chanting, "Go Boppos, Go Boppos, Go Boppos!" The helmet really is waaay too big for him. But I don't think he cares. And he won't be going trick or treating without me for years to come. Maybe I should let him wear it anyway, seeing as he's the second most avid Broncos fan in this house? (He learned from his Mama, of course!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3790269749045531825?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3790269749045531825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3790269749045531825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3790269749045531825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3790269749045531825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/ummm-now-what.html' title='Ummm, now what?'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1826752608606066069</id><published>2007-09-21T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T09:34:46.218-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A giveaway worth checking out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.5minutesformom.com/2334/dyson-pink/"&gt;5 Minutes for Mom&lt;/a&gt; is giving away a dyson vacuum.  And it's pink.  Not too sure about the color, but hey maybe my little princess will help vacuum if she had a pink one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1826752608606066069?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1826752608606066069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1826752608606066069' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1826752608606066069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1826752608606066069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/giveaway-worth-checking-out.html' title='A giveaway worth checking out'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1677708303085096901</id><published>2007-09-19T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T13:54:25.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>101 posts and I won a giveaway!</title><content type='html'>How's that for a pretty good day?  Yesterday, a friend stopped by to visit, just because.  That pretty much never happens to me, because around here any more than two kids is a lot and people don't know how to act around me, with the 4th on the way.  But this friend just had her fourth, and her husband works for the same company as mine, &lt;em&gt;and&lt;/em&gt; we have similar parenting styles, and as if that weren't enough, our kids are similar ages and genders and get along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would've been enough to make my day right there, so I'm glad I didn't check my email til today.  That way, yesterday's goodness spilled over into today!  I got in touch with an old friend from high school who emailed me back yesterday, and I won &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/reviews/2007/09/team-mascot.html"&gt;this giveaway&lt;/a&gt;!  Woo hoo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope everyone else is feeling as blessed as I am right now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1677708303085096901?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1677708303085096901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1677708303085096901' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1677708303085096901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1677708303085096901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/101-posts-and-i-won-giveaway.html' title='101 posts and I won a giveaway!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6856203404072341506</id><published>2007-09-06T13:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T06:31:48.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Fall!</title><content type='html'>The mornings are cold, the afternoons are blisteringly hot. Last week, I got up early to mow a section of lawn every morning. This week, I have been waiting until the sun finally dries the dew off of the lawn enough to mow. Soon I'll be raking and mowing. And railing internally at the irony.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love fall because it's warm enough still to wear my easy to slip on sandals, and we all know how important &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is, especially when pregnant. And fall is also cool enough to warrant a little bit of a wardrobe change.... nothing too drastic, just a little warmer clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love fall because of the things we'll be doing soon, all the fun stuff there is to look forward to. September will be packed with soccer games and practices, and on the 22nd, I'll be holding a meeting at my church to try to start a mothers group. In October, there's more soccer, the annual chili cookoff, Nevada day, and of course, Halloween. Then, Thanksgiving, our wedding anniversary, Christmas, New Years, the new baby...... Fall and Winter are just going to be so much fun this year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6856203404072341506?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6856203404072341506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6856203404072341506' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6856203404072341506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6856203404072341506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-fall.html' title='It&apos;s Fall!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8446638925615277860</id><published>2007-09-06T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-06T13:15:06.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I think I've been watching too many birth shows....</title><content type='html'>Today I watched the documentary "Crazy Sexy Cancer".  My daughter walked by glanced at the woman in the hospital bed on tv, and asked, "Is that lady having a baby?"  That's what a woman in a hospital bed means, in her mind.  Maybe that's not such a bad thing, though....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8446638925615277860?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8446638925615277860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8446638925615277860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8446638925615277860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8446638925615277860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-think-ive-been-watching-too-many.html' title='I think I&apos;ve been watching too many birth shows....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5173720336474129067</id><published>2007-08-30T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:16:52.951-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Logic, Schmogic!</title><content type='html'>Hubs&amp;nbsp;called on his way home from work yesterday to ask what's for dinner. I informed him that there wasn't much leftover and he might want to pick something up on his way home, and while he was at it he could get me a McFlurry.... Big pause on his end, and then, "but we have 3 pints of Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's in the freezer... don't we?" I replied, "Yes, that's true, but I'm pregnant, not logical!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5173720336474129067?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5173720336474129067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5173720336474129067' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5173720336474129067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5173720336474129067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/logic-schmogic.html' title='Logic, Schmogic!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6027059363870734424</id><published>2007-08-25T08:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T08:34:05.456-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>So, we survived the first week of school, and with sanity intact, too!  Both kids like their teachers, and are still enjoying school.  Keeghan is a little annoyed with a week of reviewing last year's stuff, but that'll pass, I'm sure.  Kathryn just loves everything about kindergarten. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week is the one I'm expecting to be interesting.  Soccer practices start for both of them, at different fields, of course.  At least the times work out pretty nicely for the most part.  I'm still waiting to find out the game schedules and see if those conflict at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6027059363870734424?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6027059363870734424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6027059363870734424' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6027059363870734424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6027059363870734424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5660757232579128382</id><published>2007-08-13T13:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:45:10.313-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Awww crud.</title><content type='html'>When&amp;nbsp;Bug starting losing teeth, we made the appropriate oohs and awws, and the Tooth Fairy made her appointed visits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Until, one day, she didn't.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That goofy Tooth Fairy slept a little late on a saturday morning, and woke up in a panic. Luckily,&amp;nbsp;Bug inherited those airhead tendencies, and they kicked in that very same morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He forgot to check under his pillow. I had&amp;nbsp;Hubs keep him distracted by feeding him, and ran to get some cash out of my purse. It was empty. Then I had a brain fart and remembered the huge box of books that had just arrived from ebay. There were even some tooth fairy themed ones, so I managed to stash one of those under the pillow in lieu of cash. And I congratulated myself for the great save.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I had a number of these great books, and always seemed to be out of cash when he lost a tooth, he got more presents that money from the Tooth Fairy. Seemed like a great solution at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Kat lost her first tooth. And I congratulated her, and oohed and awwed, and thought to myself, awww crud. Because I set the bar so high with Bug, Kat is beside herself with excitement over what cool present the Tooth Fairy will be leaving her. And it's my own fault.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5660757232579128382?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5660757232579128382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5660757232579128382' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5660757232579128382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5660757232579128382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/awww-crud.html' title='Awww crud.'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-148715747853975781</id><published>2007-08-10T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T10:43:00.846-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dorky phone message</title><content type='html'>I just called a friend I haven't heard from in awhile.  Had to leave a message.  I totally embarrassed myself.  "Hi, it's just me.  Calling to say hi and see what you're all up to."  not too bad until this: " The number is xxx-xxxx.... um I think. Crud, I don't know.  I can't remember my own number.  Good thing you have caller ID.  Bye."   Now, I'll never get a call back.... lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-148715747853975781?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/148715747853975781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=148715747853975781' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/148715747853975781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/148715747853975781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/dorky-phone-message.html' title='Dorky phone message'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8058424436241343238</id><published>2007-08-10T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:45:53.850-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chores are becoming a real chore.</title><content type='html'>My oldest has been suffering lately from a case of the lazies. He has an argument or an excuse for anything I ask him to do, and failing that, he'll take as long as he possibly can. What gives? His sister's attitude hasn't changed lately, nor has his brother's, so whatever it is, is only affecting Bug. The most trouble I have with Kat is that she forgets things a lot, but I have a feeling that's pretty normal for a five year old girl with a healthy imagination. And when I remind her, she apologizes and hops to it pretty quickly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8058424436241343238?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8058424436241343238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8058424436241343238' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8058424436241343238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8058424436241343238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-oldest-has-been-suffering-lately.html' title='Chores are becoming a real chore.'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-535647326139431558</id><published>2007-08-07T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T08:04:02.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In my bones</title><content type='html'>I know it's only August, but I can feel autumn coming.  Around here, it might look like summer still, but if you pay attention the signs are all around.  The dogs have shed their summer coats, and a now looking pretty cozy in their winter coats.  After two months of high 90 and low 100 temps, we're finally down to  the mid-80's.  The trees are changing color, just a little bit here, and a little bit there.  And the nights are downright cold already! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it might be a good idea to take the kids to the park a little more in the couple of week left until school starts.  Just in case we can't go even sooner than usual.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-535647326139431558?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/535647326139431558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=535647326139431558' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/535647326139431558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/535647326139431558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-my-bones.html' title='In my bones'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6058626923443426550</id><published>2007-08-02T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T08:44:26.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mattell recall</title><content type='html'>Mattell is recalling many of their very popular toys due to lead in the paint.  My family actually owned two of them.  One got destroyed with a hammer because it would never shut off and annoyed my husband one time too many.  The other I'm going to have to take away from my two year old; it was a birthday present for him this year.  Go to &lt;a href="http://www.mattell.com/"&gt;www.Mattell.com&lt;/a&gt; to see the full list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6058626923443426550?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6058626923443426550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6058626923443426550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6058626923443426550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6058626923443426550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/08/mattell-recall.html' title='Mattell recall'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7045242902786946838</id><published>2007-07-30T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T07:41:30.490-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, Busy Week</title><content type='html'>Last week, I was put in charge of the crafts portion of our church's VBS.  The theme was Avalanche Ranch, which was very cute.  I started out very intimidated and a bit overwhelmed, having never even known what VBS was before this year.  By thursday, I was not only feeling almost in control, but also pretty excited about it all.  And then.  We found out that two of the kids who'd been attending all week were suspected of having whooping cough.  The last day was cancelled.  Major bummer.  And a major reminder of why it's so important to keep our kids immunized.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7045242902786946838?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7045242902786946838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7045242902786946838' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7045242902786946838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7045242902786946838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/busy-busy-week.html' title='Busy, Busy Week'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1015749803917617555</id><published>2007-07-20T10:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T12:48:24.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just call it the Spring Creek Wildlife Preserve</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5089366902031483938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="244" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RqEQO5c3hCI/AAAAAAAAAC4/g4FU_TgrQbI/s320/000_0054.jpg" width="238" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think my neighbors are beginning to wonder about me just a little. My erratic lawn caretaking must be getting pretty curious, or at least a little amusing to the outside observer. I think I mowed our lawn once this summer before our lawn mower decided to take the summer off. I was not convinced, so for a two week period, I'd be out there a couple times a day trying to get it started. Jehromy came home, worked on it, declared it fixed, and went back out of town for work. Which began another two weeks of trying, but not starting the lawn mower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a month of not mowing, it was getting a little embarrassing to pull into our driveway. Another couple weeks, and I decided something had to be done. It was becoming a fire hazard, not just an embarrassment. So I borrowed my father in law's mower and weed whacker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when things got pretty interesting. Seeing as how I'm in my fourth month of pregnancy, and we're in the midst of a heat wave that shows no sign of relenting, I can only do a little bit at a time. Now, a smart person says, just do your yard work in the mornings and evenings when it's cooler. That person isn't in an exhaustion coma every morning from staying up too late on the phone with her hubby, or on the phone with said hubby the second the kids are tucked in. This person is, and has to do ten minutes here, ten minutes there, all the while taking half hour water breaks. The picture above is what it looked like when I'd mowed my first swath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1015749803917617555?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1015749803917617555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1015749803917617555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1015749803917617555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1015749803917617555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/just-call-it-spring-creek-wildlife.html' title='Just call it the Spring Creek Wildlife Preserve'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RqEQO5c3hCI/AAAAAAAAAC4/g4FU_TgrQbI/s72-c/000_0054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3357216218186994239</id><published>2007-07-18T15:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T15:58:17.520-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When it rains, it pours...</title><content type='html'>On Saturday, I bit into a piece of candy and lost part of my tooth.  Tuesday, I went to the dentist to see what was to be done about it.  I was given a referal to a specialist in Reno.  I immediately wondered how much this was going to cost me.  Turns out, I have a choice.  I can pay $800 for the specialist to try to save the tooth, with no guarantees for success, and then pay for a crown.  Or I can have the tooth removed and get bridgework done, for around $2000 out of pocket.  What makes this a difficult decision is that part about "no guarantee".  I don't want to take the first choice, only to have to do the extraction and bridgework anyway.  Do I take the chance, or not?  I don't know yet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3357216218186994239?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3357216218186994239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3357216218186994239' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3357216218186994239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3357216218186994239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='When it rains, it pours...'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7524182642275787294</id><published>2007-07-13T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T09:54:57.458-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What did you do today, sweetheart?</title><content type='html'>I wasn't always a stay at home mommy, and it wasn't a decision Jehromy and I came to lightly.  In fact, we both fought it tooth and nail, because of some hilarious miscommunication.  He thought that I needed to work in order to feel like I was contributing to the family, and decided that he would not be the one to force me to quit working, even though he thought our family would be happier with me at home.  I thought that I'd lose all respect from him if I admitted that I really didn't want to go to work and miss out on all my kids were doing- even if it was diaper blowouts and weird science with the kitty litter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for the first few months we were together, he worked as a delivery driver for Budweiser, and I worked as a bartender.  Doesn't that just sound like a match made in drunk heaven?  We had opposite schedules, so one of us was always at home while the other was at work.  Which worked ok for the kids, but soon Jehromy started calling a babysitter more and more often so he could hang out with me at work.  When I realized that he was paying the babysitter more than I was earning, I told him he either had to quit visiting me so much, or I need to quit working.  He finally admitted that he really liked having me home when he got home from work, and that he just missed me too much when I went to work, and would I feel horrible if he wanted me to stay home?  I was so relieved.  I've gone back to work at odd jobs a couple times since then, as needs have dictated, and those experiences have only solidified our committment to put our family first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other fantastic side effect of the opposing schedules was that Jehromy got to be home alone with the kids, and got a small taste of life as a stay at home parent- sort of.  It was enough that I know when he asks what I did today, it is out of interest in my life, not a question of derision.  And on those days when I say it was a worthless waste of a day, he'll find something I did right, even when I just see everything I didn't do.  The way he sees it, the most important thing I can do in any day is make sure the kids know they are loved.  The rest is gravy.  Or icing.  Or whatever you like best.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7524182642275787294?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7524182642275787294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7524182642275787294' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7524182642275787294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7524182642275787294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-did-you-do-today-sweetheart.html' title='What did you do today, sweetheart?'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1554895819910433510</id><published>2007-07-10T15:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:48:41.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Why, oh why am I not allowed to title my posts anymore? Sheesh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, well. Moving on. My seven year old son is singlehandedly resurrecting the social life that he, himself killed seven years ago. Oh, I know I could have done playgroups and gone to the park to meet other mommies and stuff like that. But I had more important stuff to do, like oh, you know, surviving a crappy marriage and supporting my family and all. Silly priorities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway. My son has a social life. This means I almost have a social life, because negotiating the details of his social life requires me to interact with other mothers. Somethine that has really been quite terrifying to me for quite awhile. I am very much an introvert. But I'm starting to enjoy interacting with some of these moms quite a lot lately. In fact, I even hijacked the phone from&amp;nbsp;Bug to talk to his friend's mom for almost an hour today! My kids thought I'd lost my mind! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bet I'll even need a calendar once Kat starts school. That kid is so not an introvert. She's incredibly friendly and outgoing, and will find something nice to say about anyone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1554895819910433510?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1554895819910433510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1554895819910433510' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1554895819910433510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1554895819910433510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/why-oh-why-am-i-not-allowed-to-title-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7114030406672334177</id><published>2007-07-07T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-07T16:22:24.286-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Well.  This has been quite the blogging hiatus, hasn't it?  After the worst morning sickness I've had yet, and then the entire family getting the flu, and then me being in the ER because of a migraine, well.... last week was a doozy.  The ER doc told me initially, "you're either having a stroke or a migraine, so we're going to run some tests to find out which it is."  OH, ok.  No biggie.  I'll just sit here in this massively uncomfortable bed wondering if I'm dying or not for the next six hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, things seem to be gradually improving now.  My midwife is concerned that I've lost a couple pounds instead of gaining.  However, taking into account the above mentioned situations, and mixing in a heat wave that makes it too hot to even &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; about eating, and I think we've figured out the problem.  She says to eat lots and lots of protein in order to prevent another migraine.  A gal can only eat so much peanut butter, nuts, and yogurt before it gets really old though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Blogger won't let me title this post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7114030406672334177?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7114030406672334177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7114030406672334177' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7114030406672334177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7114030406672334177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/well.html' title=''/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-974682427410065715</id><published>2007-07-03T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-03T10:05:05.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Technical difficulties....</title><content type='html'>I can't seem to comment on my own blog.  Don't know why, but it sure is frustrating.  And posting seems to be a hit or miss matter lately as well.  I've actually posted about three times for every one you've seen, and gotten an error message.  So.  Please bear with me as I attempt to figure this situation out.  &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(please post, please post, please post.....)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-974682427410065715?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/974682427410065715/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=974682427410065715' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/974682427410065715'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/974682427410065715'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/07/technical-difficulties.html' title='Technical difficulties....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6735967783943766521</id><published>2007-06-26T11:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T11:23:46.817-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They say there's no such thing as a free lunch...</title><content type='html'>That goes for puppies, and kittens too. In our local paper, which has a monopoly in the area, it will cost me 41.50 to advertise "free kittens". Sheesh. I'm beginning to think that the kids and I are doomed to a day sitting in front of Walmart accosting everyone to enter or leave until they're gone. No one at church wants them. No one we know wants them. Who knew people were so smart?  I sure wasn't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6735967783943766521?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6735967783943766521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6735967783943766521' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6735967783943766521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6735967783943766521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/they-say-theres-no-such-thing-as-free.html' title='They say there&apos;s no such thing as a free lunch...'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3793463496522919212</id><published>2007-06-13T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:50:37.615-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday SOS</title><content type='html'>Kat turns five soon. In exactly two weeks. And I haven't a clue what to get/do for her birthday.&amp;nbsp;Monkey-boy&amp;nbsp;turns two in exactly three weeks. Same story, except that I don't think he'll notice if it's less than perfect. I don't think he'd even notice if we forgot, but we won't do that of course! Kat has asked for a Barbie doll for her birthday. That's it. And since she only has, oh, about two hundred of them, what's one more, right? Add to this the fact that&amp;nbsp;Hubs will be working the week of her birthday, and will get home sometime on the day of or the day after Monkey-boy's day, and we have a little more trouble. Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Please?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3793463496522919212?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3793463496522919212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3793463496522919212' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3793463496522919212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3793463496522919212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/birthday-sos.html' title='Birthday SOS'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6724945449978800831</id><published>2007-06-12T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T12:13:08.991-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loaded</title><content type='html'>The following are some statements/questions that one should approach a pregnant woman with very carefully. You never know which way the hormones are swinging her temperament, so be ready to run if you utter any of following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Are you sure you're pregnant? You don't look pregnant. (This can brighten her day, or ruin it, depending.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;How many are you having?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Again?!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;But why?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;So, any interesting cravings yet? (Be prepared to fill an order if you're dumb enough to ask this one!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do you know what you're having? (Why, yes, I believe we'll be birthing a litter of puppies! And you?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;How do you feel? (ummm, does the vomit on your shoes answer your question?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have you tried crackers? (Really! People still make this suggestion!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;How much weight have you gained?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Can I get you some water? (I'm sick of that one already. I know it's well meant, but really, don't I sprint for the toilet enough?)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Four! Wow! (or whatever the applicable number is... it's always awe-inspiring.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do you breastfeed? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gonna circumcise?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Got names picked out yet?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Are you still pregnant?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have you met so-and-so? She's pregnant too.... (followed by details guaranteed to either scare you to death or make you insanely jealous)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Is it moving yet?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course with two of my three children fluent in the english language, you may never get the chance to ask.  They'll tell everything you wanted to know, and a lot you didn't want to know, at top volume, before you've finished drawing breath to say hello.  Isn't it kind of them to save us all the trouble?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6724945449978800831?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6724945449978800831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6724945449978800831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6724945449978800831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6724945449978800831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/loaded.html' title='Loaded'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1326831241371373579</id><published>2007-06-12T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T09:14:02.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is this real?</title><content type='html'>I came across &lt;a href="http://www.malepregnancy.com/"&gt;this website &lt;/a&gt;purely by accident and cannot figure out if it's real or if it's a hoax.  What do you think?  And if it's real, then what do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1326831241371373579?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1326831241371373579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1326831241371373579' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1326831241371373579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1326831241371373579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/is-this-real.html' title='Is this real?'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3824207028959338698</id><published>2007-06-09T14:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-09T14:30:33.484-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://pregnancy.baby-gaga.com/cartoons/cartoon11"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://i.baby-gaga.com/crtn/c11.png" alt="pregnancy cartoon" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3824207028959338698?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3824207028959338698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3824207028959338698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3824207028959338698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3824207028959338698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/pregnancy-cartoon.html' title=''/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1592008097223318343</id><published>2007-06-08T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T19:13:20.609-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Appointment</title><content type='html'>I had my first pregnancy checkup today.  I love this midwife!  She was so excited for me, she gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek in congratulations!  All the usual first appointment stuff, and an official due date of January 16th.  One healthy baby with a strong heartbeat.  I'm demoted to Flinstones vitamins for a couple weeks to help with the morning sickness.  All in all, a good day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1592008097223318343?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1592008097223318343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1592008097223318343' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1592008097223318343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1592008097223318343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/appointment.html' title='Appointment'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5709993430919324848</id><published>2007-06-07T21:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T21:59:25.750-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Because</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width="145"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" style="border: 2px solid #006600;color:#ffffff;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:5px;"&gt; &lt;p style="font-size:15px;font-family:Georgia,Serif;color:#000000;font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I am an&lt;br /&gt;Echinacea &lt;a href="http://www.thisgardenisillegal.com/flower-quiz.htm" style="font-size:15px;font-family:Georgia,Serif;color:#0000FF;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://thisgardenisillegal.com/quiz/echinacea.jpg" width="140" height="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What Flower &lt;br /&gt;Are You?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5709993430919324848?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5709993430919324848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5709993430919324848' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5709993430919324848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5709993430919324848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/just-because.html' title='Just Because'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5009476002090473327</id><published>2007-06-06T07:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-06T07:30:31.042-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a rebel!</title><content type='html'>Last night I watched a History Channel show about the hippies.  It explained their reasons for many of the things they did as rebellion against the expectations of their parents in order to find a more fulfilling life.  Really. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, with that line of reasoning, I must be a rebel too!  I'm living my life completely against all the expectations set out for me by my mother and her family.  I was supposed to get a college degree, use it in a professional career, and maybe get married sometime in my late twenties.  One kid, maybe two would be ok with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oops, I guess I fell off the prescribed path somewhere.  And most days I couldn't be happier about that.  I love being a wife and stay at home mom.  I think I'm pretty good at it, too.  But there are times when that happiness feels a little thorny, a little less than perfect.  Usually my mother is involved when I feel that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She called me to get my email address, and I decided to tell her I'm pregnant.  There would never be a good time to tell her, and I was tired of dreading it.  So I told her, "I have some news I need to tell you.  I don't expect you to be happy for me about it.  I'm pregnant again."  She said, "Why?"  and then at my stunned silence, "Was it (in horror) &lt;em&gt;on purpose&lt;/em&gt;?"  There are so many things I could have said, should have said to those two questions.  But I didn't.  I knew that there really was no point.  I just said, "Yes, it was on purpose."  She gave a great big sigh, and stated, "Well, it's going to be a hell of a lot harder when you're abandoned with four children to take care of than three.  Didn't we talk about this last week?"  (this was a reference to a tirade about the evils of men, how they always abandon you in the end, culminating in her announcement that my stepdad is leaving her.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let her lecture me on my lack of value as a human being because of my lack of skills in the workplace, until she realised that I wasn't bawling on the floor like she'd hoped.  Used to be that a sharp word from her would send me into hysterics.  This time, I stayed calm, at least outwardly.  Inside I was raging at her, pitying her, wishing I could understand what made her so bitter.  She finally gave up, said bye and hung up.  I gathered my kids to me and told them that I love them no matter what, and that all I want for them when they grow up is happiness.  They looked at me like I'd lost my mind, but I felt better.  I'm just going to keep telling them and showing them, and hopefully I won't screw up too much along way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't I rebellious?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5009476002090473327?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5009476002090473327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5009476002090473327' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5009476002090473327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5009476002090473327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-rebel.html' title='I&apos;m a rebel!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6764971043958301277</id><published>2007-06-05T08:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:54:03.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm baaaack! (well, sort of)</title><content type='html'>We had a fantastic visit with my father and his wife. (I don't call her my stepmom because I already had one of those and his wife is a much nicer person.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They brought salmon that he caught somewhere in Oregon and grilled it for us. This was great timing, as I was really craving fish! They took us out to dinner lots and lots. More cravings satisfied!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They took us to see Shrek the 3rd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all went to the local museum, and&amp;nbsp;my dad&amp;nbsp;pointed out all the wildlife exhibits that were labelled incorrectly. There were a few guns mislabelled, too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for a picnic lunch in Lamoille Canyon, and then took the kids on their first hike, which turned out to be more of a mini-hike when we reached a creek crossing that had been reduced to a very narrow tree for a bridge. We decided to turn back. The kids were mad, but they just don't have the experience to have gotten across safely. It was fun anyway, and very beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sad to see the visit end, sad to say goodbye. It's been so nice, and they spoiled us all so much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still have morning sickness.... oh, boy do I have it! It took some serious determination to go go go with my parents all last week, and I all but collapsed into an imitation coma on Saturday- just in time for Jehromy to come home from work hoping for attention and help with his laundry. Apparently, he got promoted, and this meant coming home for a day and leaving again for two weeks. Poor&amp;nbsp;Hubs wound up my nursemaid while still taking care of his own stuff. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since&amp;nbsp;Hubs left again,&amp;nbsp;Bug has been extra cooperative. He even loaded the dishwasher for me when I asked him, even though he usually just unloads it. And he's been letting me sleep in lately. Woo Hoo! I'll have to do something special with the kids when this finally passes. Like that baking party! mmmmm.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6764971043958301277?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6764971043958301277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6764971043958301277' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6764971043958301277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6764971043958301277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/06/im-baaaack-well-sort-of.html' title='I&apos;m baaaack! (well, sort of)'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2422667911132246895</id><published>2007-05-26T08:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T08:47:57.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll Be Back Soon...</title><content type='html'>Schools out, morning sickness has commenced, and my parents are coming to visit.  My plate is full.  I'll be back when I'm able.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2422667911132246895?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2422667911132246895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2422667911132246895' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2422667911132246895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2422667911132246895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/ill-be-back-soon.html' title='I&apos;ll Be Back Soon...'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2965597338313773564</id><published>2007-05-21T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:54:50.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting.....</title><content type='html'>For almost the past week I have been waiting for just one of my children to do something to merit a fun evening baking together. I've literally been searching for any excuse to reward them this way, thinking that it would be a fun bonding activity. I swear, it had nothing to do with a craving for brownies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every single day that I've had this fun surprise in mind for them, we have had worse and worse behavior. I don't understand it. Today was horrendous. I'm beginning to believe that&amp;nbsp;Bug likes being grounded.&amp;nbsp;Monkey-boy is trying to prove to me that he can be more defiant at almost two than his sibs were at four- and that's saying something. Kat can't finish a meal to save her life. Birds exist on more nourishment than she takes in. Maybe this week will be better than last.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2965597338313773564?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2965597338313773564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2965597338313773564' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2965597338313773564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2965597338313773564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/waiting.html' title='Waiting.....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7214364582385240909</id><published>2007-05-17T08:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:56:03.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What to do?</title><content type='html'>Bug&amp;nbsp;was very upset when he came home yesterday. After some trying, he finally confessed to me that someone at the bus stop told him that I drink lots of alcohol. After some more trying he told me the little girl's name, and I went to ask her mother about it. The little girl overheard, and clarified that she heard it from one of Bug's friends and was just asking&amp;nbsp;Bug if it were true. So I talked to Bug's friend's mom, who told me that he heard this from another boy at the bus stop who claimed that we are always throwing beer bottles into their yard. I was dumbfounded. I don't drink. My husband might have a beer with dinner, but the bottle usually makes it into the trash, unless he's having a bad day and then I'll find it in the sink. But someone else's yard? Who lives an entire block away from us? I don't know what to do from this point. I was comfortable talking to the first two kids and their mothers because I already sort of knew them. I don't know these other parents at all, so I'm not sure that it would be the best idea to knock on their door and ask them about this, or if I should let it go. I don't like having my charachter maligned, and I don't like that&amp;nbsp;Bug is having to deal with this for absolutely no reason at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7214364582385240909?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7214364582385240909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7214364582385240909' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7214364582385240909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7214364582385240909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/what-to-do.html' title='What to do?'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-625134274134534326</id><published>2007-05-16T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T09:43:10.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WFMW:  Early Christmas Shopping</title><content type='html'>It's that time of year again..... time to start shopping for Christmas presents!  Yes, I know, I sound completely insane.  There is no way that I will know my kids' sizes seven months ahead of time, but fortunately for me, they are fairly predictable in their tastes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What really &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/2007/05/works_for_me_ch.html"&gt;works for me &lt;/a&gt;is buying books.  Lots and lots of books.  On ebay in "lot sales", at garage sales, on clearance, from scholastic.  Whenever the price is right for books in good condition, I snap them up.  Then I stash them in my closet.  Over the year I will give the kids a book here, another book there, for various occasions.  As a reward for good behavior, to keep them entertained on a long car ride, or as a distraction during a doctor appointment are all fantastic reasons to give a kid a book in my opinion.  And I'll still have lots left for Christmas presents!  (Lucky for me, &lt;a href="http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/like-mother-like-son-and-son-and.html"&gt;my kids love reading as much as I do&lt;/a&gt;!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-625134274134534326?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/625134274134534326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=625134274134534326' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/625134274134534326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/625134274134534326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/wfmw-early-christmas-shopping.html' title='WFMW:  Early Christmas Shopping'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2753605700812979941</id><published>2007-05-13T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T08:43:54.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day!</title><content type='html'>They whispered and giggled and planned all week long.  They roped Daddy into their plans.  They were all set to make breakfast in bed for me on Mother's Day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead they got to watch me coax the cat into keeping herself in one relatively small area to give birth to six kittens, while Daddy made a pancake breakfast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This takes the prize as my most memorable Mother's Day.  How about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2753605700812979941?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2753605700812979941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2753605700812979941' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2753605700812979941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2753605700812979941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8958048098581935409</id><published>2007-05-09T19:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:57:43.845-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big News!</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it has been a whole week since I posted! I had my appointment with the specialist, and my breasts are just fine. Woo Hoo! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As if that didn't make my week good enough, I found out today that we're pregnant again! Very funny, really. I complained to&amp;nbsp;Hubs all week about how huuuungry I was, then today, food was making me sick. I'd crave something, eat it, and then wonder what possessed me to think that eating was such a great idea, what with the heartburn and nausea and all. And I've been so tired, it was really annoying. So I told&amp;nbsp;Hubs today that I wanted to pick up an ept, because this really felt severe for pms. And he called shortly after I took it, wondering. So, the phone is ringing, all three kids are screaming, and I'm trying to pee on a stick. I answered the phone, glanced down, said "I guess we'll have to try again next month", and went about my evening. The next time I went to the bathroom, I glared at the offending peice of plastic in the trash can next to me, &lt;em&gt;and it had changed to positive!&lt;/em&gt; I immediately called&amp;nbsp;Hubs back, and told him the good news. He said, "I don't how it happened.... I've been working so much! Congratulations!" Pretty neat, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8958048098581935409?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8958048098581935409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8958048098581935409' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8958048098581935409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8958048098581935409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/big-news.html' title='Big News!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4167460438148677166</id><published>2007-05-01T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T06:38:37.034-07:00</updated><title type='text'>WFMW- Birthdays</title><content type='html'>Birthdays in our family are not convenient. My husband and I are on the 18th and 19th of one month, Keeghan is one month after Christmas, and Kathryn is one week before Collin-who happens to be on the 4th of July. With all the madness, we've noticed that it's pretty pointless to have big, blowout birthday parties, especially when the inconvenient timing means that attendance will almost surely dissapoint the honoree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My solution: The birthday boy or girl gets the birthday dinner of their choice (within reason, of course), one present from each family member, and one birthday wish (again, within reason). For example, Keeghan wanted me to make chicken marsala for dinner, and wanted to go see a movie in the theater with just me. Grandma and Grandpa babysat the others for me, and it was a very low stress day, but Keeghan really felt special and celebrated. That's &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/2007/05/works_for_me_fr.html"&gt;what works for me&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4167460438148677166?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4167460438148677166/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4167460438148677166' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4167460438148677166'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4167460438148677166'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/05/wfmw-birthdays.html' title='WFMW- Birthdays'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-768515698153642369</id><published>2007-04-30T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T12:33:42.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ten Years</title><content type='html'>There's nothing like a high school reunion announcement to inspire feelings of inadequacy in a person.  What have I been up to for the past ten years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have married the wrong man.  I have divorced him.  I have dropped out of college.  I have been an exotic dancer.  I have had a falling out with my mother.  I have moved eight times. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have given birth to three beautiful children.  I have married the right man.  He and I have bought a home together.  I have found Jesus.  I have found joy in faith, wife-hood, and motherhood.  I have learned who I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;None of this sounds very impressive next to someone who has x number of degrees and a salary with six zeros.  But I've sure done some living, and I've found peace within.  I don't know yet if I'll go to that reunion.  But I will send some emails to old friends to say hi.  I hope they're doing as well as I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-768515698153642369?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/768515698153642369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=768515698153642369' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/768515698153642369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/768515698153642369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/ten-years.html' title='Ten Years'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3421672953331252773</id><published>2007-04-25T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T10:58:47.865-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Good news!</title><content type='html'>Answering phone calls and checking mail are two things that have always made me feel slightly nervous. These are the ways that bad news gets communicated, and usually when least expected. Lately, however, I've been pleasantly surprised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First there was the phone call from my mother. This bears repeating; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;my mother called me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;! When I looked at the caller id before answering, my heart skipped a beat and my stomach jumped into my throat. I was so sure that the only reason she would willingly call me was if someone had died. I'm so happy that I was wrong. It seems she has made a little progress toward forgiving me, as she was calling to get my address for graduation announcements from my baby brother. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the phone call from my midwife. I wasn't really expecting bad news but it's strange to me to have finally found a health care provider who cares enough to call with test results, even late at night if it'll ease my mind. ( I ok'd the late night phone call, actually prefer them to when the kids are clamoring for my attention.) The ovarian cancer screen came back negative. We also talked about PCOS, and possibly checking for it if I don't "normalize" in the next three months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last, when I checked the mail yesterday, there was a big, fat envelope from the government. &lt;em&gt;That&lt;/em&gt; can definitely go either good or bad, now, can't it? But, once again, good news. The state of Colorado sent paperwork for me to sign, if it's all right with me if they almost double (!) the child support that they take out of my ex's checks when they add Kat to the order. Hmmm, let me think about that one.... Heck yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of news have you gotten lately?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3421672953331252773?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3421672953331252773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3421672953331252773' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3421672953331252773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3421672953331252773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/good-news.html' title='Good news!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-324132292303933275</id><published>2007-04-21T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T16:28:51.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contest</title><content type='html'>If you go &lt;a href="http://www.5minutesformom.com/1442/philips-digital-photo-frame-contest"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; you might win a &lt;a href="http://www.consumer.philips.com/consumer/catalog/tree/en/us/consumer/home_entertainment_gr_us_consumer/digital_photo_display_ca_us_consumer/digital_photo_display_su_us_consumer/ce/digital_photo_frames?proxybuster=XFDOG1KLRWYYRJ0RMRCSHP3HKFSESI5P"&gt;digital photo frame&lt;/a&gt;. Pretty cool, huh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-324132292303933275?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/324132292303933275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=324132292303933275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/324132292303933275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/324132292303933275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/contest.html' title='Contest'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8314504287549680595</id><published>2007-04-21T15:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T15:41:19.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drink more water....</title><content type='html'>My husband is insanely healthy.  I'm not sure if it's because he's got such a great immune system, which he does, or if it's because his stubborn streak is such that even germs just give up and pick on someone else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like me.  Now I don't get sick very often, and then just the occasional cold.  However, it never fails that when I do fall ill, I can count on my caring and oh-so-helpful husband to dispense this doctorly advice: "Have you tried drinking more water?"  So I knew it was serious when he told me that he was worried and would I please see a doctor? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I resisted, feeling very much like I had taken up too much screen time in a Twilight Zone episode involving doctor's offices that are impossible to escape.  But I went, and wound up with a not so confident diagnosis of Bronchitis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least he didn't tell me to drink more water this time....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8314504287549680595?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8314504287549680595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8314504287549680595' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8314504287549680595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8314504287549680595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/drink-more-water.html' title='Drink more water....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4572168276251805151</id><published>2007-04-20T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T08:41:53.186-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Pint Sized Rebellion</title><content type='html'>I have a mutiny on my hands.  If I serve leftovers again anytime soon the kids are going to tie me to the swingset with their jumpropes and leave me there.  I'm a total loss for my meal planning this week.  I need to make meals that are quick and easy, and small enough for no leftovers.  Any ideas?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4572168276251805151?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4572168276251805151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4572168276251805151' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4572168276251805151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4572168276251805151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/pint-sized-rebellion.html' title='A Pint Sized Rebellion'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-121908727718232203</id><published>2007-04-17T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T11:46:58.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Moms Meme</title><content type='html'>I love this one, and found it over at &lt;a href="http://fiddledeedee.net/"&gt;It Coulda' Been Worse&lt;/a&gt;. So, in my own experience....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Real Moms are the ones who smile nostalgically when they see a first time pregnant woman. Real Moms can tell, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Real Moms will be sympathetic when your toddler has a meltdown in the checkout isle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Real Moms usually have more items belonging to others than themselves in their purses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Real Moms know the value of a well timed bribe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Real Moms also know the value of a well timed nap. (For the kids, or themself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Real Moms can sprint like an Olympic medalist even when pregnant or injured if they believe their child to be in danger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Real Moms get more excited about sales on fruit snacks than new clothes for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Real Moms never stop trying to be a better parent each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Real Moms grieve and hug their own little ones a bit tighter whenever another mother loses her child- whatever the reason, it's heartbreaking.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-121908727718232203?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/121908727718232203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=121908727718232203' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/121908727718232203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/121908727718232203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/real-moms-meme.html' title='Real Moms Meme'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4682456037940574313</id><published>2007-04-13T06:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T06:37:31.834-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mysteries....</title><content type='html'>Well, I thought I was done being poked and prodded by medical types.  I was wrong.  After about a week of playing phone tag with the midwife (who I really like by the way) finally got a hold of me while I was getting the kids ready for bed.  She wants me to go get blood drawn to check for ovarian cancer, just in case- because of my family history.  That what if was scarier to me than being told I definitely had precancerous cells on my cervix years ago.  My Oma had ovarian cancer, skin cancer, and a cancerous tumor in her stomach.  I'm not sure which was the cause of her death, but she was in a lot of pain for a long time fighting it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have to have my cysts monitored, and go see a specialist about the lump in my left breast- again, just in case.  I'm glad they care so much, I just wish it wasn't so scary.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4682456037940574313?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4682456037940574313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4682456037940574313' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4682456037940574313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4682456037940574313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/mysteries.html' title='mysteries....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6130978717310741341</id><published>2007-04-12T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:17:48.617-08:00</updated><title type='text'>So.... How bout them Yankees?</title><content type='html'>Hmmm. I really feel the need to write something, but I doubt it will be anything all that clever. Life is back to normal- dagnabit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubs&amp;nbsp;had to travel for work again. It was so nice having him home for so long this time, but we knew it couldn't last forever. At least he took down the hornet's nest from the tree in the front yard. And safely, too, I should add.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bug&amp;nbsp;is grounded until I'm not mad/hurt/disappointed anymore. He took my calendar to school for a school project without asking permission, and never returned it. I missed Monkey-boy's checkup and immunizations and don't have a clue what else is coming up because of that. To top it off,&amp;nbsp;Bug can't find the calendar, and doesn't seem the least bit remorseful about the whole thing. I'd welcome any and all suggestions on how to handle this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kat thinks cleaning her room means getting everything off the floor. I think it's time for extreme measures. All three kids have TOO. MUCH. STUFF. I'll be going through their rooms one at a time with a trash bag and a donate box sometime in the next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monkey-boy&amp;nbsp;has learned how to pair the word "MINE" with a temper tantrum worthy of my first stepmother- that's one impressive headache, lemme tell ya! Oh, and he has also started to, very clearly, with hands on hips, say "no." At least that one comes clearly enunciated and calmly, if defiantly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've got to say, for the record, using an IUD was one of the worst decisions I've ever made regarding my health. Possibly &lt;em&gt;the&lt;/em&gt; worst. The mystery illness was a ruptured cyst, in addition to (as the kind dr.'s put it) my body attempting to normalize after the removal. No hint as to how long this should last, but I was told to add 2-3 extra servings of protein to my diet the week before my period is due in order to control the P.M.D.D. symptoms. That would be fine and dandy- &lt;strong&gt;if I knew when my freaking period is due!&lt;/strong&gt; I also was told that until I have my next kid, pms will definitely be replaced by pmdd, and the periods themselves should be inordinately painful- physically and emotionally. My poor husband has no idea how lucky he is to be away from home right now. :) Here's to hoping that this gets better soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6130978717310741341?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6130978717310741341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6130978717310741341' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6130978717310741341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6130978717310741341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/so-how-bout-them-yankees.html' title='So.... How bout them Yankees?'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6814318149606215567</id><published>2007-04-08T10:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:25:37.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Exclamations!</title><content type='html'>"Wow, Thanks Mom!" (followed by, "What're you thanking &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; for? The Easter Bunny left that for you!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OH! THE CHOCOLATE!!!" (are we surprised that it was the girl that uttered that one?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mama? Mama!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(whispered)"Oh, crap, the Easter Bunny forgot to hide the eggs we dyed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it's been a good Easter morning. It would've been better if&amp;nbsp;Hubs and I hadn't had to have our own hunt for puppy presents before letting the kids up for the festivities. Yeeeuck! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids look so cute in their Easter clothes, too!&amp;nbsp;Hubs helped dress them for church before leaving for work. He's working in town this week! Yay! He's a driller for an exploratory drilling company, so he has to go wherever the next site is assigned. Last job they put him on was in California, and we didn't get to see him much, so it's nice to have him working near home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Easter, everyone, we're off to church, and more egg hunts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6814318149606215567?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6814318149606215567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6814318149606215567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6814318149606215567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6814318149606215567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/easter-exclamations.html' title='Easter Exclamations!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6084649356362379405</id><published>2007-04-04T13:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:26:06.866-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jeans</title><content type='html'>The hunt for jeans is over, in a most unexpected way. Apparently,&amp;nbsp;Hubs accidentally grabbed three pairs of jeans that are the wrong size- for him, anyway. He suggested that I try them on, and they fit. They aren't very stylish, but they're durable, they fit, and they cost about $2 each if I remember correctly. And I'm really beginning to appreciate function over form lately, anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6084649356362379405?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6084649356362379405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6084649356362379405' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6084649356362379405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6084649356362379405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/04/jeans.html' title='Jeans'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-9014004948404937833</id><published>2007-03-29T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:27:03.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Mother, Like Son, and Son and Daughter....</title><content type='html'>Our PTA decided that the parent-teacher conferences would be a perfect time to set up the book fair. They were probably right. Who wants to look like a bad mom in front of their kids' teacher by not encouraging a love of reading?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, personally, have been an avid reader since the day my mom managed to force me to learn how. Yes, she had to force this skill upon me. Just as I pretty much had to force it into Bug, and it looks like the same will be happening with Kat. But once it clicked, I never willingly put down the books. And,&amp;nbsp;Bug is doing the same. I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you can imagine just how proud I felt when we left the book fair with three kids running into walls and doors because their noses were buried in their new books.&amp;nbsp;Hubs laughed, said, "You can sure tell whose kids &lt;em&gt;they &lt;/em&gt;are!", and we each grabbed a kid or two to steer them while they walked and read. It was priceless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-9014004948404937833?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/9014004948404937833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=9014004948404937833' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/9014004948404937833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/9014004948404937833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/like-mother-like-son-and-son-and.html' title='Like Mother, Like Son, and Son and Daughter....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6978531286532224899</id><published>2007-03-29T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:27:41.541-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mystery- Part 2</title><content type='html'>I had my long awaited dr's appointment today. I think it went well, in that the nurse and the midwife who I saw both actually &lt;em&gt;listened&lt;/em&gt; to my concerns. That has been very difficult for me to find in the past. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I half expected to be told that everything I've been experiencing is just a normal part of being a woman. Instead, I was sent to the lab to test for problems with my kidney and bladder. And I was told to make an appointment for a pelvic ultrasound and an ultrasound on both breasts. One has a growing lump, and the other has "thickening of the tissue". The midwife told me not to let them do a mammogram unless I'm on my period, since we're trying to get pregnant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother in law is full of advice, since she just went through this herself, a few weeks ago. I'll even be seeing the same specialist as her.&amp;nbsp;Hubs doesn't quite know how to react right now, so he's concentrating on things he feels more in control of, like replacing one of the windows. I'm relieved to be taken seriously, but kind of scared of where this might be heading.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6978531286532224899?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6978531286532224899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6978531286532224899' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6978531286532224899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6978531286532224899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/mystery-part-2.html' title='The Mystery- Part 2'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4844008491784078582</id><published>2007-03-27T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:28:42.104-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy's Home!</title><content type='html'>My husband returned Sunday afternoon after driving for what seemed like forever. The kids were overjoyed, of course, but also a little stressed, I think.&amp;nbsp;Monkey-boy had some separation anxiety on Sunday;&amp;nbsp;Bug got a really bad stress headache last night; Kat decided it was time to go on a hunger strike. That child is too thin to begin with. So we had to help them each work through their issues with Daddy's work schedule, and will probably have to continue to do so for awhile. I think we're all improving some, as time goes by and he's not gone again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4844008491784078582?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4844008491784078582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4844008491784078582' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4844008491784078582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4844008491784078582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/daddys-home.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Home!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3099407600969602881</id><published>2007-03-24T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-24T09:12:43.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naps</title><content type='html'>It is a very sad day today.  Four, almost five years now, my daughter has been taking a nap every day.  An hour of quiet, every day.  It was golden.  But there comes a day in every mommy's life when she must admit to herself- and to her child- that the nap is really not as necessary for the child as it is for the mommy.  That day has come, and it is a sad one.  Ah, well.  She'll be in school next year.   Then I'll miss this time with her.  It all goes too quickly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3099407600969602881?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3099407600969602881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3099407600969602881' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3099407600969602881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3099407600969602881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/naps.html' title='Naps'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7338453052486938287</id><published>2007-03-23T10:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:29:42.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quarantined!</title><content type='html'>Our house has been quarantined until about bedtime tonight. Apparently, that's the magic hour when Bug won't be contagious anymore.&amp;nbsp;Bug had a sinus infection and managed to use that to infect himself with pinkeye- in both eyes. I think the baby might have the sinus infection too, but of course I was more worried about my poor miserable oldest when we were in the Dr.s office to remember to mention it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm treating the baby the best I can with the over the counter stuff that is supposed to be safe. And I've got to say, I LOVE baby Vick's! It's not near as harsh as the grown up version, but it helps him breath so much better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And poor Kat feels so left out. Everyone gets sick but her, and she wants the attention that comes with being sick! So I think today when the sickies are napping, we'll have some mother/daughter time together. Heck, I'll even play princess if that's what it takes to make her happy. She deserves to feel special too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7338453052486938287?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7338453052486938287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7338453052486938287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7338453052486938287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7338453052486938287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/quarantined.html' title='Quarantined!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7179063283646901547</id><published>2007-03-22T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-22T10:13:38.717-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I couldn't resist!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="350" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="middle" bg style="color:#dddddd;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: blackfont-family:Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Personality is Very Rare (INFP)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#eeeeee"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img height="100" src="http://images.blogthings.com/howrareisyourpersonalityquiz/personality.jpg" width="100" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your personality type is dreamy, romantic, elegant, and expressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only about 5% of all people have your personality, including 6% of all women and 4% of all men&lt;br /&gt;You are Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, and Perceiving.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/howrareisyourpersonalityquiz/"&gt;How Rare Is Your Personality?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And now I know why I have such a hard time finding stuff in common with others!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7179063283646901547?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7179063283646901547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7179063283646901547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7179063283646901547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7179063283646901547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-couldnt-resist.html' title='I couldn&apos;t resist!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8238823670368039520</id><published>2007-03-21T19:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-21T19:40:51.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Because, you know, it was fun!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Brain is Purple&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#DDDDDD"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatcolorisyourbrainquiz/purple.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of all the brain types, yours is the most idealistic. &lt;br /&gt;You tend to think wild, amazing thoughts. Your dreams and fantasies are intense.&lt;br /&gt;Your thoughts are creative, inventive, and without boundaries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You tend to spend a lot of time thinking of fictional people and places - or a very different life for yourself.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorisyourbrainquiz/"&gt;What Color Is Your Brain?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8238823670368039520?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8238823670368039520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8238823670368039520' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8238823670368039520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8238823670368039520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/because-you-know-it-was-fun.html' title='Because, you know, it was fun!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5695665684212602498</id><published>2007-03-20T18:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:30:58.956-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Lord provided me with shoes- and on sale!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCORpB6afI/AAAAAAAAACc/5ctkwuBVTGI/s1600-h/100_1419.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044188016377752050" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCORpB6afI/AAAAAAAAACc/5ctkwuBVTGI/s320/100_1419.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I replace my poor, sole weary, falling apart boots (above) with these&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCOR5B6agI/AAAAAAAAACk/Uxbl3X0nIus/s1600-h/100_1420.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044188020672719362" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCOR5B6agI/AAAAAAAAACk/Uxbl3X0nIus/s320/100_1420.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; cute shoes with great traction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCN2pB6adI/AAAAAAAAACM/yPGBLsOFfl8/s1600-h/100_1417.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044187552521284050" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCN2pB6adI/AAAAAAAAACM/yPGBLsOFfl8/s320/100_1417.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I replaced my wonderful sandals that I've worn holes into the heels of,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCN3ZB6aeI/AAAAAAAAACU/Jwo6QUhcvCA/s1600-h/100_1418.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044187565406185954" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCN3ZB6aeI/AAAAAAAAACU/Jwo6QUhcvCA/s320/100_1418.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; with these babies, for only $7.oo. And they're adjustable, so they'll continue to fit if I'm lucky enough to be pregnant for part of this summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bug&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCNcZB6abI/AAAAAAAAAB8/CVsa3CxVM6k/s1600-h/100_1422.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044187101549717938" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCNcZB6abI/AAAAAAAAAB8/CVsa3CxVM6k/s320/100_1422.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;decided that the shoestore was the perfect place to inform me of the hole in the toe of his shoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCNc5B6acI/AAAAAAAAACE/br4xW5hqsp4/s1600-h/100_1423.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044187110139652546" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCNc5B6acI/AAAAAAAAACE/br4xW5hqsp4/s320/100_1423.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So he wore these home. No more shoelace battles in &lt;em&gt;this house&lt;/em&gt;, thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCNJJB6aaI/AAAAAAAAAB0/n7sOjBfs-lM/s1600-h/100_1421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044186770837236130" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCNJJB6aaI/AAAAAAAAAB0/n7sOjBfs-lM/s320/100_1421.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And I just couldn't resist these, for church. They're cute, they fit, and they were in my budget. Can't beat that!&lt;br /&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5695665684212602498?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5695665684212602498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5695665684212602498' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5695665684212602498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5695665684212602498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/lord-provided-me-with-shoes-and-on-sale.html' title='The Lord provided me with shoes- and on sale!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RgCORpB6afI/AAAAAAAAACc/5ctkwuBVTGI/s72-c/100_1419.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2471799824763669044</id><published>2007-03-20T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T12:08:42.248-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You've got to visit this woman!</title><content type='html'>DaMomma is so totally, well, DaMomma!  &lt;a href="http://damomma.com/?p=287"&gt;Best post &lt;/a&gt;I've read on the subject.  &lt;a href="http://damomma.com/?p=287"&gt;Leave Moms Alone &lt;/a&gt;really says it so well, I could never do better.  Go.  Read.  Add to the "Amen, Sister!"s in the comments.  Really, I mean it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2471799824763669044?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2471799824763669044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2471799824763669044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2471799824763669044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2471799824763669044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/youve-got-to-visit-this-woman.html' title='You&apos;ve got to visit this woman!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-291144774069905593</id><published>2007-03-19T20:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-19T20:25:05.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy Savings, Batman!</title><content type='html'>My MIL and I stopped at Kmart looking for sandals and jeans for me.  All of my shoes are falling apart, literally.  Many of my jeans are, too.  I truly despise shopping, ever since I birthed my first baby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was an exception of epic proportions.  While I didn't find the sandals or the jeans to fit me, I did score big on the off season sales.  My kids are now fully clothed for next winter, and me too, other than, you know, those jeans.  I even got a sweater that would have been 29.99 at full price for 6.00.  Our grand total would have been 332.77 before taxes and before the sale prices.  After all the markdowns, we paid 92.42.  And since my MIL was tossing stuff into the cart just as fast as me, she said she'd chip in a bit.  How cool is that? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to find some new shoes before I'm tying rags to my feet.  Sheesh.  I may just buy three pairs of anything that fits just to avoid the torture that is shoe shopping.  Does that make me weird?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-291144774069905593?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/291144774069905593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=291144774069905593' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/291144774069905593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/291144774069905593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/holy-savings-batman.html' title='Holy Savings, Batman!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6088243070299396078</id><published>2007-03-15T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-15T18:03:17.216-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bliss</title><content type='html'>I am at my computer, putzing around doing nothing.  The dishes are done.  The laundry is done.  The floors are clean.  The children are playing together in the back yard mostly getting along- all three of them.  The weather is blessedly mild, so no mud when they do finally come inside.  This is a very good moment in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6088243070299396078?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6088243070299396078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6088243070299396078' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6088243070299396078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6088243070299396078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/bliss.html' title='Bliss'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6224058195489463990</id><published>2007-03-15T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:32:01.451-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Organization.... or, the Whole House is Under Construction</title><content type='html'>My kids rooms are big, wall to wall, every available surface covered in toys messes. And it really isn't their fault. Well, for the most part. They just don't have a system in place. No homes for the toys means no toys get put away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw that this is only going to get worse as time goes on if I don't do something, so I tried to assess the problems and find suitable solutions. Hmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem: Too many toys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solution: There is now a donation box next to the front door. Whenever they clean their rooms, if they come across something they don't play with anymore they offer it to their siblings. Whatever goes unclaimed gets donated. One huge box has gone to F.I.S.H. already. But I'm not seeing a huge dent in the mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Problem: They don't know where they should put the toys. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Solution: I started with myriad cardboard boxes for each type of toy so I could see what exactly needed to be stored, and figure out the best way to store it, keeping in mind that I want the kids to be able to continue on their own with whatever system I devise. Still working on the second part. I'm thinking lots of shelves, at their level, and containers on the shelves for smaller stuff. What do you think? Will it work?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6224058195489463990?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6224058195489463990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6224058195489463990' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6224058195489463990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6224058195489463990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/organization-or-whole-house-is-under.html' title='Organization.... or, the Whole House is Under Construction'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-1471085641963273883</id><published>2007-03-12T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T09:51:02.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>God's Works</title><content type='html'>They say that God works in mysterious ways.  I beg to differ, at least a little.  When I look back at my life, at all of those times when I asked "why, God, why?", I realise that there was a reason.  And a darned good one at that.  I didn't need to be privy to the reasons in order to learn the lessons; in fact knowing why I had to struggle so probably would have negated anything I might have learned.  God doesn't have to explain himself to us, just as I don't have to explain my reasons for doing things a certain way to my children.  He knows what is best for His children, and I am learning to trust that every time I ask "why?" I don't really need an answer.  He is there for me, with me.  And He always will be.  That's not very mysterious, is it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-1471085641963273883?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/1471085641963273883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=1471085641963273883' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1471085641963273883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/1471085641963273883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/gods-works.html' title='God&apos;s Works'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4193889270315044049</id><published>2007-03-12T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:32:37.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nervous</title><content type='html'>Me: Are you done playing that game?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kat: Yes, cuz&amp;nbsp;Monkey-boy was getting on my nervous system!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4193889270315044049?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4193889270315044049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4193889270315044049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4193889270315044049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4193889270315044049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/nervous.html' title='Nervous'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-4826089783379996159</id><published>2007-03-11T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T11:10:40.142-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, My Name Is Vida.....</title><content type='html'>And I think I might be addicted to Ebay!  I type the word "lot" and search the children's books, and oh, the deals, the deals!  I've never been able to resist a good book for myself, and now Keeghan has been as voracious a reader as me.  I love it so much!  I know pride isn't good, but I can't help being proud of my smart boy.  I want to feed that thirst so it never goes away, and ebay makes it so easy.  But I think my husband is getting tired of building bookshelves on his days off, so maybe I'd better slow down a little.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-4826089783379996159?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/4826089783379996159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=4826089783379996159' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4826089783379996159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/4826089783379996159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/hi-my-name-is-vida.html' title='Hi, My Name Is Vida.....'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-219299344526766803</id><published>2007-03-09T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T12:01:46.050-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mystery</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;*Warning. If you dislike talk of bodily functions you may want to skip this one. I'm sure I'm providing you folks with way Too Much Information. You've been warned. Carry on now.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been waiting to post about this until today because I thought I'd have a nice, neat resolution at the end of the story by now. Unfortunately, that's not the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the deal. For me, early pregnancy symptoms and PMS are remarkably similar. So anytime I'm not using birth control, there's usually a week of wondering about that other possibility. Only this time, it's been way worse, and started two weeks before I was due. Throw in a dash of neverending nausea and a little extra exhaustion and you have me convinced I'm pregnant. The sticks I peed on every day for the last four days say differently. Yesterday, when my period was finally late I felt like I could call the doctor's office and confuse them too! Hehehehe. That was such a fun phone call!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nurse: "Dr. Blank's office, what can I do for you?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I'm not sure. I'm either pregnant or I have the worst case of the flu in my life."&lt;br /&gt;Nurse: "Okaaaaay. Have you taken an EPT?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Yep, four. They all say I'm not. But my period is late, I'm sick as a dog, and even with my three kids I was never this sick this early."&lt;br /&gt;Nurse: "Well, the progesterone from the IUD you had removed two months ago might be causing you to be late. Want to wait a few more days?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "That would make sense if I hadn't had periods like clockwork while I had the IUD."&lt;br /&gt;Nursed: "Really?! Ok, let's get a blood test done, then. They're more accurate anyway."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can I just say, I almost miss that IUD. I have never been this miserable in my life. I go to get my blood drawn today. I'm so nervous. I've been busy imagining all the life threatening illnesses that I might have, if it turns out I'm not luck enough to just be experiencing morning sickness to the Nth degree. I'll post about the rest of this as it unfolds. Have a happy weekend, all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Update-&lt;br /&gt;    The blood test was quick, and it came out negative.  So now I get to wait some more to figure out what's going on.  Pregnancy would have been so much simpler!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-219299344526766803?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/219299344526766803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=219299344526766803' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/219299344526766803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/219299344526766803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/mystery.html' title='The Mystery'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3826050583866900264</id><published>2007-03-07T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-07T10:59:55.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WFMW</title><content type='html'>My &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/2007/03/works_for_me_th.html"&gt;Works For Me Wednesday&lt;/a&gt; idea is an ongoing one.  Years ago, I got tired of hunting for recipes in various different cookbooks, piles of printouts, and favorite websites.  So, I bought a photo album.  Whenever we develop a new family favorite, I type the recipe according to how &lt;em&gt;I &lt;/em&gt;make it (I tweak everything I do to suit me) and I take a photo of how the finished product looks in real life.  Then I put them in the photo album.  When my kids are grown, I will make a copy for each of them to take with them when they start their new lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can find more kitchen ideas this week at &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/2007/03/works_for_me_th.html"&gt;Rocks In My Dryer&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3826050583866900264?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3826050583866900264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3826050583866900264' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3826050583866900264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3826050583866900264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/wfmw.html' title='WFMW'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-6036133563790062337</id><published>2007-03-02T07:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:34:09.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reasons why I'm behind on housework</title><content type='html'>1. I was too busy playing with the kids.&lt;br /&gt;2. I was too busy reading my favorite blogs, writing blog posts and then deleting them as not fit for intelligent consumption.&lt;br /&gt;3. I was waiting for the &lt;a href="http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/tgif.html"&gt;new washer and dryer &lt;/a&gt;to be delivered.&lt;br /&gt;5. I couldn't clean the kids' bathroom because of the &lt;a href="http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/lessons-learned-part-2.html"&gt;mold removal &lt;/a&gt;after the storm and the leaky skylight.&lt;br /&gt;6. I had to drive halfway to California to pick up my husband, his co-worker and his co-worker's pregnant wife. His co-worker broke down, and&amp;nbsp;Hubs refused to abandon them when his ride just wanted to go home. &lt;br /&gt;7. I refuse to stop hugging my husband for more than five minutes now that he's home. And what do you know? It's almost been five minutes, time to go find him again! Have a great weekend, I'll be back when he goes back to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-6036133563790062337?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/6036133563790062337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=6036133563790062337' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6036133563790062337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/6036133563790062337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/03/reasons-why-im-behind-on-housework.html' title='Reasons why I&apos;m behind on housework'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5167767518155230879</id><published>2007-02-28T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:34:43.033-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all a matter of perspective.</title><content type='html'>Last night's phone conversation with my husband:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubs: So, what did you do today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: Not a whole lot. I was pretty lazy. But I had fun playing with the kids and I taught&amp;nbsp;Bug a new game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubs: Then you &lt;em&gt;did&lt;/em&gt; get something done today, something really important. I bet the kids loved it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5167767518155230879?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5167767518155230879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5167767518155230879' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5167767518155230879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5167767518155230879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/its-all-matter-of-perspective.html' title='It&apos;s all a matter of perspective.'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5937871542725723077</id><published>2007-02-23T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T21:07:56.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gardasil</title><content type='html'>I have the feeling that this is not going to be a popular statement, but I feel the need to point out one risk factor that parents simply can't control, no matter how we'd like to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have HPV.  I was not loose.  My first husband cheated on me.  Repeatedly.  I now have to have a pap every six months for the rest of my life, and I'm grateful that I can take this preventive step. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you raise your daughter with the knowledge it takes to makes sure she marries a faithful man?  Can you guarantee that she won't be victimized?  If so, please tell me how.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some aspects of our lives, of our children's lives that no amount of good parenting can control.  No matter how well we instill in our children our morals, no matter how much we say they are not of this world because of our faith, they are still in this world, and that means that bad things can happen.  But this vaccine may give us the power to lessen the severity by a fraction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying that it's right for this vaccine to be mandatory.  But I am saying that it could prevent some women from being victimized for the rest of their lives because of an unfaithful husband, or worse, a rapist, giving this disease to her.  I hope nothing like that ever happens to my sweet little girl, but I can't control that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5937871542725723077?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5937871542725723077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5937871542725723077' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5937871542725723077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5937871542725723077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/gardasil.html' title='Gardasil'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-5774933415808633850</id><published>2007-02-23T09:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T09:06:38.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A random thought</title><content type='html'>Am I the only one who does this?  I cannot bring myself to throw away a box.  Big ones, little baby shoe ones, weird long ones...... I am compelled to keep them because there just &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;must&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; be some brilliant use for them that I just haven't discovered yet.  I think I need help with this one.  &lt;em&gt;Why&lt;/em&gt; oh &lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt; do I do this?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-5774933415808633850?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/5774933415808633850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=5774933415808633850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5774933415808633850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/5774933415808633850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/random-thought.html' title='A random thought'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-281403296877777270</id><published>2007-02-23T08:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-23T08:41:23.414-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF</title><content type='html'>What a Friday it is, too!  We got our tax return, so I'm off to (finally!) replace the washer and dryer.  I wonder if the new one will have a "normal" setting?  Can you tell I'm excited?  The old washer leaks all over the floor everytime I use it, so it's going to the dump.  But I think the dryer is still ok to donate.  Before and after pics should be lots of fun!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-281403296877777270?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/281403296877777270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=281403296877777270' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/281403296877777270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/281403296877777270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/tgif.html' title='TGIF'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-602120474627195556</id><published>2007-02-21T10:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:36:13.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>WFMW</title><content type='html'>In keeping with my general new attitude towards life, I decided this week to finally get off the couch and excercise. I figure, the healthier my body is before I get pregnant again, the healthier a pregnancy I will have. I truly thought it would be a piece of cake to get back in shape, as I was a very active and fit kid, teen, and young adult. I played soccer all through high school until a knee injury sidelined me, and skiied until that point too. My old "career" was also a very active one, all other downsides put aside. So I really didn't aticipate how completely and totally flabby I had become since becoming a stay at home mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed about a month ago that Lifetime TV has various fitness shows on during weekday mornings, and set the dvr to record a few of them. I finally tried one a three days ago. (No, I don't procrastinate!) I love it, but man, oh, man! I hurt in places I didn't realise I could hurt. All of this is just aching muscles, no injuries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The upside of all of this pain is that I was able to wear a pair of pre- Kat jeans yesterday, and I didn't have to hop and stretch and contort to put on today's jeans. I have resisted buying new, larger jeans, because, let's face it, I'm just that cheap. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my works for me wednesday is that the DVR doesn't have to help you get fat. It can help you get in shape and healthy, too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visit &lt;a href="http://rocksinmydryer.typepad.com/shannon/"&gt;Rocks in My Dryer &lt;/a&gt;for more Works For Me Wednesday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-602120474627195556?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/602120474627195556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=602120474627195556' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/602120474627195556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/602120474627195556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/wfmw.html' title='WFMW'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7387422768950898256</id><published>2007-02-20T12:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T12:41:12.035-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Project is completed!</title><content type='html'>Thanks for the encouragement ladies.  I really appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lynn Marie, I'm laughing my butt off right now!  I got that chore done in record time- precisely because I didn't want to sleep on the couch!  No after picture, mainly because everything is back in my closet again.  But now it's organized so whenever a kid grows into the next size, I just take down the appropriate box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I even went through each of the kids' dressers and purged them of outgrown clothes, and sorted through a lot of my own.  I'm letting go of some jeans from high school, because (as my hubs so kindly pointed out) I might get back to that weight someday but my body simply has a new shape since having kids.  Time to accept, and maybe even embrace it.  Which is also why some of those tops that my mother tried to keep me from wearing in high school are going on ebay.  If I don't want my daughter wearing it, I certainly shouldn't!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't give away as much as I thought we would, mainly because we're trying for another baby, so I'm hanging on to a lot for hand me downs.  We'll add to the donation box by getting rid of some of those stuffed animals that seem to multiply like a fungus every time you leave the room.  F.I.S.H. is going to loooove me tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7387422768950898256?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7387422768950898256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7387422768950898256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7387422768950898256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7387422768950898256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/project-is-completed.html' title='The Project is completed!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-3311118226672429301</id><published>2007-02-19T14:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-19T14:08:51.328-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Project</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RdofBM60ZWI/AAAAAAAAAAw/m-Nf9WSFCdA/s1600-h/100_1391.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033369639048209762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RdofBM60ZWI/AAAAAAAAAAw/m-Nf9WSFCdA/s320/100_1391.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are looking at a California King size bed covered in a three foot tall pile of clothes that various children in my family have worn and outgrown.  Today, I am going to attempt the herculean task of sorting, tossing, donating, and organizing this mess.  I plan to sort by size, not season,  and actually label the containers (hopefully something better than cardboard boxes).  Wish me luck and motivation!  Hopefully by this time next week I'll have a nice "after" photo to show you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-3311118226672429301?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/3311118226672429301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=3311118226672429301' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3311118226672429301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/3311118226672429301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-project.html' title='My Project'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RdofBM60ZWI/AAAAAAAAAAw/m-Nf9WSFCdA/s72-c/100_1391.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2951637204390071385</id><published>2007-02-16T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:38:37.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons Learned- Part 2</title><content type='html'>Lynn Marie asked for the rest of the story, and all the kids are zonked on flue meds, so here goes.... I just hope you don't regret asking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday, it rained. Friday night, it snowed. Saturday, it rained. Saturday night, it snowed. Sunday, same pattern. Monday rolls around, and I decide that I cannot put off cleaning the kids' bathroom anylonger. They stink, and bathing them in a filthy tub last used by the dogs would be somewhat counter-productive. &lt;em&gt;Oh, indeed, I can so put it off longer!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are pieces of the ceiling in the tub. Not, the popcorn ceiling decided to shed its' winter coat, pieces. Chunks of plaster and drywall. I calmly mention this in an "oh, by the way could you look at this for me" kind of way to my husband when he gets home from work. "Is it safe for me to bathe the kids?", I ask him, " I mean, chunks of ceiling aren't going to fall on their heads, are they?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very same day. Different room. Same "oh-by-the-way-could-you-please-look-at-this". Except this time, there is a puddle on the floor of the laundry room. And I'm certain I can't blame it on the puppy, as it's muddy water. The washing machine is leaking, and molding the floor underneath. This gets me looking at other spots in the place that look curiously similar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hubs&amp;nbsp;asks what's going on with the treasure hunt that has me saying "&lt;span style="font-size: 78%;"&gt;dammit dammit dammit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;" under my breath. I tell him I think there's mold in our house. He freaks, packs the entire family, including dogs into the minivan and truck and insists we drive into town to stay with his parents. I call the one company that answers the phone out of the three listed under "fire and water damage" in the phone book.&amp;nbsp;Hubs calls the insurance company and starts filing a claim.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DO NOT call your insurance company until you know exactly what is wrong with your house and how bad it really is." Those were the words of the water damage control/mold remediation/carpet cleaning/duct cleaning man who inspected our home. This man happens to be brilliant, by the way, and also proof that the Lord does answer prayers. He attends our church, and I had no idea he was who I'd called for help. He instructed me on how best to handle the insurance company, how to clean the mold myself that the insurance company said was my fault. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he brought the news that it wasn't near as bad as I thought it was. The mold, that is. The financial ramifications, we're still assessing. We have to replace all of the windows, and the skylight in the kids' bathroom, and patch the roof, all on our own dime. Not to mention replacing the leaky washer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And DO NOT EVER let your real estate agent talk you out of a home inspection no matter how bad you want to be in the place yesterday. " Last May, our pellet stove backdrafted into my husband's face while he was lighting it. He has recovered, but that's how we learned that the fire safety inspection of our home previous to the sale had failed. Now, as a result of the catastrophe that has been this February, we've learned that every single window is not only leaking, but also molding. This probably began before we ever laid eyes on the place, but how were we to know without that inspection? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, we have certainly learned A LOT. And that is good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2951637204390071385?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2951637204390071385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2951637204390071385' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2951637204390071385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2951637204390071385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/lessons-learned-part-2.html' title='Lessons Learned- Part 2'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2121803924029207735</id><published>2007-02-15T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-15T10:52:52.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lessons learned</title><content type='html'>In case anyone ever wondered, DO NOT call your insurance company until you know exactly what is wrong with your house and how bad it really is.  DO NOT tell your husband there is mold, until it is taken care of.  And DO NOT EVER let your real estate agent talk you out of a home inspection no matter how bad you want to be in the place yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I'm off to join the legions of blogging mamas cleaning walmart out of their supplies of nyquil and dayquil.  Here's hoping there's enough left to get me through.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2121803924029207735?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2121803924029207735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2121803924029207735' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2121803924029207735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2121803924029207735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/lessons-learned.html' title='Lessons learned'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-8948169106165770163</id><published>2007-02-11T09:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:40:31.568-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Firsts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Bug&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;slept over at a friends' house last night. It was his first sleepover, excluding two stays at Grandma and Grandpa's. We all missed him, and it got me thinking about what it will feel like as he continues to grow older and spend less time with those who love him the most. It made me want to go and get him and refuse to let him leave the house again, and I'm sure the family would have backed me up on it.&amp;nbsp;Monkey-boy didn't want to sleep without his goodnight hugs from big brother. Kat didn't know what to do without somebody to annoy. She focused on me instead.&amp;nbsp;Hubs kept waking up and asking me in a sleep dazed slur, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;where'sh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Bug&lt;/span&gt;? Oh, yeah, he's at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;whatshisbutt's&lt;/span&gt; house, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;-- &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;sssnnnnnkkkkk&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heaven help us when he grows up and wants to move out or go away to college. We'll be lost. Positively lost without him. I so hate these reminders that he's growing up. All of his firsts are my firsts too, and some of them are so much more bittersweet than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't cry at his first day of kindergarten, but boy you should have seen me on the first day of 1st grade! I was a complete mess. Not only was it his first day of 1st grade, at a new school because we'd moved, it was his first time riding a bus to and from school. All week I had been drilling him on those all important details:&lt;br /&gt;"What's your teacher's name?" "What's your classroom number?" "What bus do you take?" "What bus stop do you get off at?" "What's my cell phone number?" "What's your address?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had them all down pat. He was ready. I was not. I had to let him go anyway. We learned later that day that I had forgotten one all important question: "What's your name? first and last" His bus driver didn't recognize him when it was time to go home, and asked his name. He got scared, and only mumbled his first name. Apparently there is another&amp;nbsp;Bug at that school, who just happened to be staying at school to wait for his mom. So my&amp;nbsp;Bug got sent to the other Bug&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;'s&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;babysitter's&lt;/span&gt; bus stop. Meanwhile, I'm watching all the kids but mine file off of the bus, getting more and more panicked. When I realized that&amp;nbsp;Bug was not getting off that bus, I got on. Want to see a scared bus driver? Just get on her bus and ask her where your kid is. Needless to say, she got on her radio, tracked him down, and brought him back to me while I waited with my younger two. And now he is not allowed to get off the bus unless someone is waiting for him at the stop. They don't want to lose him again, after the talking to the office and the bus depot got from me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I don't always like many of Bug's firsts? They tend to be learning experiences for me as much as for him. Wonder what I'm going to learn when I go to pick him up?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-8948169106165770163?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/8948169106165770163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=8948169106165770163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8948169106165770163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/8948169106165770163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/firsts.html' title='Firsts'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-672684528524922268</id><published>2007-02-07T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T08:45:17.045-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fight Against Hunger!</title><content type='html'>For this entire month, you can download the &lt;a href="http://www.barillaus.com/Celebrity_Cookbook.aspx"&gt;Celebrity Pasta Lovers Cookbook &lt;/a&gt;for free!  The best part is, just for downloading these yummy recipes, Barilla will donate $1 to America's Second Harvest.  So go have italian for dinner tonight!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-672684528524922268?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/672684528524922268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=672684528524922268' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/672684528524922268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/672684528524922268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/02/fight-against-hunger.html' title='Fight Against Hunger!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2115427289435419600</id><published>2007-01-31T13:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T13:18:05.274-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RcEHKh1EVPI/AAAAAAAAAAk/adxauuvtnXw/s1600-h/100_1291.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026306536583222514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RcEHKh1EVPI/AAAAAAAAAAk/adxauuvtnXw/s320/100_1291.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/36549150-2115427289435419600?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2115427289435419600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2115427289435419600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2115427289435419600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2115427289435419600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/01/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vaK4DwubXC0/RcEHKh1EVPI/AAAAAAAAAAk/adxauuvtnXw/s72-c/100_1291.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-7546178144649308105</id><published>2007-01-29T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:41:10.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>January 29</title><content type='html'>Today, even as we are filled with joy and celebratory spirit, we are also consumed by grief. Last night, my husband's grandmother passed away. This morning, my son&amp;nbsp;Bug turned seven years old. Please ask the Lord to be with us and to guide us today as we teeter and totter between the expression of our love for both of them. Please ask the Lord to help my little family through the great adventure as we attempt to drive to California to pick up&amp;nbsp;Bug from work and then to Colorado for the funeral. It will be interesting to say the least.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-7546178144649308105?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/7546178144649308105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=7546178144649308105' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7546178144649308105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/7546178144649308105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/01/january-29.html' title='January 29'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36549150.post-2931456809898417936</id><published>2007-01-25T15:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-30T11:44:05.159-08:00</updated><title type='text'>100 Day!</title><content type='html'>Wednesday marked 100 days of school, at least in our neighborhood. In honor of such an important day, I decided to list 100 Things I Hope To Do Before I Die. I guess I didn't quite get there, but hey! it's harder than it looks. I challenge anyone else to come up with a full 100! I'd love to know what would be on your list, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Relearn German. It was my first language, as I was born in Germany, but I have since forgotten most of it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take my kids to Germany to see where I was born. The Air Force Base has been closed, but it's probably still there.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have another baby! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Knit a sweater.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Crochet a ripple pattern afghan. (I've tried, but for some reason I just haven't figured out the pattern, and I'm really not that dumb. This one just eludes me.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Write a book. I know there's one in me somewhere.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn to speak Spanish. It's a beautiful language, and it will be so useful and practical to know, living in Nevada and all.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Read and understand the Bible. What's the use in reading it without understanding it?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go to Ireland.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Have a good relationship with my mother. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Start a MOPS group here.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Train the puppy not to pee every time someone pets her.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Remember to use coupons at the checkout.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take my husband to DisneyWorld. Aw, heck, the kids can come too.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make a soufle that turns out how it should.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ditto for meatloaf.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teach&amp;nbsp;Bug to ride a bike. He turns seven on monday, and I'm beginning to think he'll never learn. What does that say about my parenting skills?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Watch each of my children graduate. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Try stand up comedy just once.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Plant a vegetable garden.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;And an orchard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn to can the fruits of said garden and orchard.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stop using words I know I shouldn't use. (I'm really trying)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Win at monopoly without&amp;nbsp;Hubs letting me win.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finish reading the Chronicles of Narnia series.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find a way to show my mother and father in law how much I really do love them. I tell them, but I don't feel like it's enough for how wonderful they are!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get to know my dad better.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tell my father's second wife how much she hurt me by trying to turn me against him. She needs to know, or maybe I need her to know.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get the money together and get my husband's adoption of my kids done, already! They all want it to happen, so it's up to me to be the organizer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ride my bike again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Play soccer again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Learn sign language.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Volunteer on a political campaign. What a neat learning experience!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Give birth at home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wear my pre-baby jeans.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hold a grandchild and smell that sweet new baby scent. I am so looking forward to that part of getting older!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make a quilt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Decorate my house. You know, take the blankets off the windows and use &lt;em&gt;real window treatments&lt;/em&gt;! Paint the walls, that sort of thing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finish our family cookbook.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Figure out how to fix things when they break instead of helplessly fuming at them until my husband can take care of it for me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;See all 50 states.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go camping with my family, real camping in a tent with sleeping bags and fishing and campfire cooking.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Figure out how much is &lt;em&gt;too much&lt;/em&gt; christmas or birthday presents.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Stop going waaaay over that limit!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;See a truly good movie in a movie theater. This is not as easy as it sounds, with my husband working so much.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Figure out why the schools insist on celebrating 100 day like a bona fide holiday, but ignore real learning opportunities like Martin Luther King Jr Day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take my kids to the North Pole, Santa's Workshop in Colorado.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find a church home for my family where we feel, well, at home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dig up all the yucky juniper bushes all around the edge of the house and replace them with berry bushes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Remember birthdays of people I love who don't actually live in my house.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find a haircut that is actually flattering on me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reconnect with my friend Shannie from high school.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Reconnect with my friend Quianna from high school.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Write really good letters, and mail them before they're a year old.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Complete my Barbie doll collections. Yes, I know, it's wierd. I don't care.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Banish my acne before the wrinkles take over.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take my family on a Volksmarch. Volksmarches are so much fun. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Start my own business.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Save someone. From themself, from the world, who knows? I just want to help.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bungee jump. Fear of heights begone!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go skiing again. Hopefully a lot. The one and only thing I truly miss from my pre-mommy days that I'd like to get back. Well, I wouldn't mind having a waist again, but given the choice I'd go with skiing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Remodel our bathroom.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Keep falling in love with my husband over and over again, every day for the rest of my life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Take the kids to Hershey, PA. My mom took us, and it was such a great vacation. Hershey Park, the Amish village, Gettysburg. I could spend a month there and not get bored.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Adopt.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go to the March for Life.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Visit my father and his wife in Oregon, instead of them always having to come to me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Get all of my photos in photo albums. Yes, I know it's way old fashioned, but there's something magical about turning those pages with the kids, telling them stories about when they were little, or when Mommy was little.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go rock climbing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go white water rafting again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Remember how to play dolls, so my daughter doesn't think I'm rejecting her when I'm just lost when it comes to that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Continue to be transparent to all who know me, in real life or online. I used to view my honesty as a character flaw. Now I realize that it really isn't. I just need to temper it with tenderness and grace.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Forgive myself.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Accept the forgiveness of others, especially God.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36549150-2931456809898417936?l=normalis.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/feeds/2931456809898417936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=36549150&amp;postID=2931456809898417936' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2931456809898417936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/36549150/posts/default/2931456809898417936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://normalis.blogspot.com/2007/01/today-is-100-day.html' title='100 Day!'/><author><name>Vida</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17036221799783916730</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
