<?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-2389955483407063675</id><updated>2012-02-03T06:59:23.873-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me in the Motherhood</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>154</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5672956015046623595</id><published>2010-06-14T22:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T22:46:36.076-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Birds, the Bees and Chicken</title><content type='html'>I know it's been eons but I had to write this down before I forgot.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard Seena crying softly in her room. I thought it was because she was upset at our argument before bed but I was completely shocked by what was upsetting her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: What's the matter, sugar.&lt;br /&gt;Seena: I don't want to grow. I'm scared. I want to stay 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which then led to, what happens when you die? What do you in heaven? I don't want to&amp;nbsp;die, I don't want to grow&amp;nbsp;....here is where I got instant tears....and somewhere in this conversation she brought up not wanting kids because she's scared of the hospital cutting her belly....?????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then, the question was how does God make us? ....Umm, so not ready for the bird and the bees conversation yet...So, I asked for further clarification, "Do you mean where did Aiden come from?" Seena replies, "no, how did God make us? Are we made from chicken?" Such sweet innocence...I don't want her to grow either....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I was not prepared to explain to my 5 year old the truth yet I reminded her of what we read in the Bible. God made a man and a woman, Adam and Eve, and everyone came from them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That seemed to satisfy her for the moment and then she asked, "well, if everyone dies, what will happen to earth when everyone dies?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, this came out of total left field, but I think we ended the conservation with smiles and good thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe seeing all my grey hairs popping up all over my head has her all up in arms? ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet dreams....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5672956015046623595?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5672956015046623595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5672956015046623595' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5672956015046623595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5672956015046623595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/06/birds-bees-and-chicken.html' title='The Birds, the Bees and Chicken'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6722121582923780423</id><published>2010-04-29T23:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T23:22:51.988-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No More Do-Si-Doe</title><content type='html'>Now that the school year is coming to a close...I have to take a moment to reflect on some of the major differences I've seen at Seena's school. It's amazing what these kids have at their fingertips now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my biggest shocks was in Seena's gym class. (I think I've mentioned this before). Back in the day when I went to elementary school our curriculum included square dancing. Does anyone remember that? A little do-si-doe! Now the dance curriculum has been replaced with Dance Revolution! Each kid had his/her own mat and there were probably 50 kids in the room. It was quite a site! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Seena's encore classes (similar to electives) is computer lab!!! I know it's the "sign of the times" but it's incredible to me. It makes me wonder what it will be like when AJ is in kindergarten. Forget the computers, he'll be required to have&amp;nbsp;a Smart Phone as part of his class materials. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The classes have smart boards...very cool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week was Space Week and there was a blow up planetarium that the kids got to go in and learn about space. Very, very cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to the slashing of the counties school budgets, we almost had an Outdoor Science Lab complete with a full blown watershed. Our school would have been the first in the county to have this (darn!). I saw the proposed diagrams and design and it was pretty amazing. I know the PTA is trying to see if we can somehow still pay for it but I think it may be out of our reach...for now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's even kindergarten drama...and not the theater kind. Seena and her little gang of girls have already started with the whole "I'm not your friend"/"I'm your friend" drama. I thought this stuff didn't start until at least 6th grade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But ultimately what amazes me the most is how much Seena is learning. She's learning to read and write, she's learning to add and subtract, she's learning about our presidents, tadpoles, Martin Luther King, Jr., counting to 100, counting backwards...the list just goes on. I really do hope Seena doesn't ever lose the love of learning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6722121582923780423?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6722121582923780423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6722121582923780423' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6722121582923780423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6722121582923780423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/no-more-do-si-doe.html' title='No More Do-Si-Doe'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-4756857966642195768</id><published>2010-04-23T15:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T15:56:42.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Even Know How to Start???</title><content type='html'>First off, I have to say that I'm almost embarrassed to actually start writing again....i don't even know how long it's been....3 weeks? And it's FLOWN by...it's been a whirlwind to say the least. Besides my allergies literally knocking me out last week I've barely had time to sit back and digest everything. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I can say is that things are happening...and they are happening FAST! In as little as a few weeks, especially this one:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been thrown in the midst of LLCs, Article of Organizations, partnerships, cash flow projections, investors, operating agreements,&amp;nbsp;peckers, wing fanatics&amp;nbsp;and hope. &lt;br /&gt;We've saved our home! Our loan has been officially modified!&lt;br /&gt;Meetings, meetings and meetings... and meetings&lt;br /&gt;I've died from my allergies&lt;br /&gt;I've gain back all of the weight I thought I had lost. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for all who know me and know me well, know that I do not wish bad things on anyone, not even my enemies. But I just recently learned that the man who ultimately was responsible for us losing our restaurant and ruining our lives, has finally had the tables turned on him. I secretely wished for this....I never prayed for it...I wouldn't do that but I did hope that he would one day feel bad for what he had done to us. And from what I understand, he has. And that makes me very happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-4756857966642195768?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/4756857966642195768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=4756857966642195768' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4756857966642195768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4756857966642195768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/dont-even-know-how-to-start.html' title='Don&apos;t Even Know How to Start???'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6115690725881311995</id><published>2010-04-11T09:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T09:36:28.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring AKA Sugar Break 2010 (Part 3 of 3)</title><content type='html'>I realize it's a week later but it's been a bit hectic around here lately. I've had a lot of catching up to do and I can happily say that I'm 90% there! Yeah! So, without further ado..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last part of our Sugar Fest was Easter. I'm one of those freaky people that loves holidays and loves to decorate the house and plan themed activites according to the holiday. Whether that actually happens is a whole other thing. I used to have the time to plan these "events" but the last few years and more so lately, things get planned the day before or the morning of. This year we got lucky the eggs were actually dyed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the sugar fest, well, Easter is the one holiday that I let go of the candy/cookie rule. I let the kids eat candy all day long if they want. I know crazy but I also limit how much candy is actually available to them. As for their Easter baskets, I have to thank my dear friend V for providing old books and toys&amp;nbsp;that I used to fill them up with. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a gorgeous day, the kids had a great time, we had lots of yummy food and we still had a day off the next day...a much needed day of relaxation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Deep in concentration...Seena is trying to paint on the eggs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HMe0xJgJI/AAAAAAAAAYY/GGw06VtErhQ/s1600/DSC_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HMe0xJgJI/AAAAAAAAAYY/GGw06VtErhQ/s320/DSC_0005.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Finished work of art&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HMsatkCrI/AAAAAAAAAYg/QyGynJyqEbM/s1600/DSC_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HMsatkCrI/AAAAAAAAAYg/QyGynJyqEbM/s320/DSC_0007.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;messy fingers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HNHVPbNtI/AAAAAAAAAYo/TOlcG8G4hGE/s1600/DSC_0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HNHVPbNtI/AAAAAAAAAYo/TOlcG8G4hGE/s320/DSC_0013.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;on the hunt...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HNxrYKFEI/AAAAAAAAAYw/epQQG1CJjns/s1600/DSC_0031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HNxrYKFEI/AAAAAAAAAYw/epQQG1CJjns/s320/DSC_0031.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Easter kids&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HN9EM9_JI/AAAAAAAAAY4/cuXztELatHM/s1600/DSC_0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HN9EM9_JI/AAAAAAAAAY4/cuXztELatHM/s320/DSC_0029.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;are there more?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HOKavcaBI/AAAAAAAAAZA/M5xSm5iql1E/s1600/DSC_0040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HOKavcaBI/AAAAAAAAAZA/M5xSm5iql1E/s320/DSC_0040.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ya Ya and the kids&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HOTA74jpI/AAAAAAAAAZI/rGgNqkt4pjg/s1600/DSC_0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HOTA74jpI/AAAAAAAAAZI/rGgNqkt4pjg/s320/DSC_0043.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6115690725881311995?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6115690725881311995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6115690725881311995' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6115690725881311995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6115690725881311995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-aka-sugar-break-2010-part-3-of-3.html' title='Spring AKA Sugar Break 2010 (Part 3 of 3)'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S8HMe0xJgJI/AAAAAAAAAYY/GGw06VtErhQ/s72-c/DSC_0005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-4763035711375756192</id><published>2010-04-08T13:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T13:53:39.652-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring AKA Sugar Break 2010 (Part 2 of 3)</title><content type='html'>Today's stroll down Sugar Break 2010 takes us to Hershey Park! The meca of all chocolately goodness!!! Fortunatley/unfortunatley - depends on who you ask (G is still shocked that I didn't bring him back any candy --(it's Hersheys, you can get that at&amp;nbsp;anywhere for I'm sure 1/2 the price)) we didn't buy any chocolate but we bought everything else. Anyway, back to the story...I decided to take the kids to Hershey Park over Spring Break...by myself :) Surpringsly, it went well! Even AJ did reasonably well, even without a nap. The hardest part was trying to keep my eyes open on the drive back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was the first amusement park for AJ and from the looks of it he loved it! I actually got to ride 3 adult roller coasters, one of which went straight down and the other shot you off like a rocket. Wooh! Of course, I had to bribe my little angels with some ice cream in order to wait in line without any "episodes". Seena even drove the Classic Car by herself. She was very nervous and got a little anxious when she noticed the "back-up" behind her but she did great. And her defense, her foot WAS all the way down on the pedal :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's interesting,&amp;nbsp;as little as 6 years ago I would have been upset that I didn't get to ride everything at an amusement park but this time, I simply enjoyed watching my kids have the time of their lives. It was a lot of fun and a lot of laughs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I know&amp;nbsp;AJ and probably Seena&amp;nbsp;are too young to remember but hopefully with the 50 million pictures I took they'll be able to see all&amp;nbsp;the fun we had.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Teen and her three other friends. Seena loved being "part of the girls".&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74RwPUo58I/AAAAAAAAAXg/4Rdeu1KWn88/s1600/DSC_0069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74RwPUo58I/AAAAAAAAAXg/4Rdeu1KWn88/s320/DSC_0069.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;AJ's first ride! He looks thrilled, can't you tell?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74SdQ5TMEI/AAAAAAAAAXo/azt4Unu_CIs/s1600/DSC_0076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74SdQ5TMEI/AAAAAAAAAXo/azt4Unu_CIs/s320/DSC_0076.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is the 2nd ride. This one is a little better :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74TvkNzITI/AAAAAAAAAXw/NRAPk96zBoU/s1600/DSC_0082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74TvkNzITI/AAAAAAAAAXw/NRAPk96zBoU/s320/DSC_0082.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I lied, this ride was the only ride AJ did not not get on. Seena gets brave and rides with her hands up!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74VXkBTuyI/AAAAAAAAAX4/FNm3p0mAJ18/s1600/DSC_0092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74VXkBTuyI/AAAAAAAAAX4/FNm3p0mAJ18/s320/DSC_0092.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Teen and Seena&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74WAQQPfSI/AAAAAAAAAYA/keFsPija9Gc/s1600/DSC_0097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74WAQQPfSI/AAAAAAAAAYA/keFsPija9Gc/s320/DSC_0097.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Whoa!!&amp;nbsp; This one just makes me laugh every time :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74WeMlz2VI/AAAAAAAAAYI/3CPlGv39zZw/s1600/DSC_0113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74WeMlz2VI/AAAAAAAAAYI/3CPlGv39zZw/s320/DSC_0113.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This is one of my favorite pictues. This ride was so cute. It was a bunch of mini trucks on a track. The kids got a 2nd wind 20 minutes before the park was going to close and they ran from ride to ride trying to get one last in. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74XDQ44jRI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/XUfvse5LEEk/s1600/DSC_0133.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74XDQ44jRI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/XUfvse5LEEk/s320/DSC_0133.jpg" wt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Great memories!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-4763035711375756192?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/4763035711375756192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=4763035711375756192' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4763035711375756192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4763035711375756192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-aka-sugar-break-2010-part-2-of-3.html' title='Spring AKA Sugar Break 2010 (Part 2 of 3)'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S74RwPUo58I/AAAAAAAAAXg/4Rdeu1KWn88/s72-c/DSC_0069.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8449339768155936002</id><published>2010-04-07T13:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T13:53:44.634-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to Me!</title><content type='html'>I love birthdays, especially mine :) Ha! I said it. I admit it. I love it, I love the attention. It's not even the gifts really, it's just for the simple fact that for one a day a year, only one day, it's all about me :) I deserve one day, right? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's totally silly but that's me. If I had the time and money I think I would throw myself a BIG party every year. Hahaha! But why shouldn't I celebrate? 36 years ago I was born and I'm still alive today, happy and complete as ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life brings me total joy and on my birthday, it is all about life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday to ME!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8449339768155936002?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8449339768155936002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8449339768155936002' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8449339768155936002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8449339768155936002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to Me!'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-9065284250335643542</id><published>2010-04-05T22:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-05T22:18:52.141-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring AKA Sugar Break 2010 (Part 1 of 3)</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;I've been a little behind on posting...I have not recuperated from our Road Trip to Hershey Park yet. So for now, I will copy &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ms. Danifred's&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; posting of Spring Break activities part by part...stay tuned :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think for 2010 we need to rename this year's Spring Break to Sugar Break...literally. The week started off good and healthy but ended in a mass of chocolately, jelly bean, sugary &lt;strike&gt;hell&lt;/strike&gt; heaven....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Sugar Fest started with the Circus. This was a special night as it was the first night in a VERY long time that G had off and we (G, Seena and I) went on a date together.&amp;nbsp;It was great! I think Seena is going through the middle child syndrome so it was so nice to be able to have a special night that was just centered around her. Seena&amp;nbsp;has never been to the circus&amp;nbsp;so&amp;nbsp;it was wonderful to see her excitement at all of the tricks and show animals.&amp;nbsp;Her favorite were the little&amp;nbsp;dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the moment we walked in the door G bought Seena a bag of cotton candy that cost almost my whole paycheck (yes, it's a bit exaggerated but you get the point) and a box of popcorn. Just these two items alone were $19. These prices rival the movie theater! At intermission G began scoping the aisles for the concession men passing out delicious goodies. I swear, he's worse than a kid sometimes. Unfortunately, I was no match for G and he bought Seena a "Smore on a Stick". I mean, really, do I need to tell you how that, on top of everything else, affected Miss Seena?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ding, ding, ding...if you guessed "crazy" you are correct! Seena literally went into sugar shock and was bouncing around as if she had 3 shots of espresso. The poor girl could not sit still and she couldn't stop talking....gibberish nonsense. Oh, and I forgot to mention she drank at least 1/2 of my gigantic, which was the smallest size available, diet coke. It, she was crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT besides that&amp;nbsp;it really was a great night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I would post some pictures (some really cute ones too) but I accidentally deleted them off my camera before saving them on the computer. Not nice :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-9065284250335643542?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/9065284250335643542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=9065284250335643542' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9065284250335643542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9065284250335643542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/spring-aka-sugar-break-2010-part-1-of-3.html' title='Spring AKA Sugar Break 2010 (Part 1 of 3)'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2159466758036761208</id><published>2010-04-01T06:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T06:30:01.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Thy Sister</title><content type='html'>Dear AJ,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so glad that I get to see you follow around in your sister's footsteps...literally. One of my daily greatest joys is watching you adore your sister. You show that love through playing with her, I suppose biting her too has some affection as well, I mean this whole phenomena on vampires has to come from some love right? My favorite, however,&amp;nbsp;may have to be how much you copy her and her every moves. It is so precious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I figure that this adoration will not last forever, as you are a boy, and soon Seena will have cooties or some other annoying gross girlie germ that you will not want having anything to do with. Therefore, I've a compiled a little list of all the ways you show how much you &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;really&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; love your sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you cry for her after she gets dropped off at school. &lt;br /&gt;I see it when I give you a cookie and you ask for one more for Nena (Seena).&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you have to have the same type of spoon that Seena has at dessert&lt;br /&gt;I seen it when you follow Seena and copy her every move, whether she touches the couch a certain way or looks out a certain window&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you carry your own blankie....(or you steal Seena's) when she carries hers around&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you copy her dance moves or karate moves&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you sneak in her room and crawl into her bed.&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you play dollies with Seena&lt;br /&gt;I see it when you run and hug Seena when you are scared, especially of the vacuum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's no denying it sweet boy.....you really do love your sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to let you know...in case you ever forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my&amp;nbsp;love,&lt;br /&gt;Mommy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2159466758036761208?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2159466758036761208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2159466758036761208' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2159466758036761208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2159466758036761208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/04/love-thy-sister.html' title='Love Thy Sister'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7909111972655742339</id><published>2010-03-31T06:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T06:30:00.474-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7Aa2frZDZI/AAAAAAAAAXY/DqZJoqiktFI/s1600/DSC_0005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7Aa2frZDZI/AAAAAAAAAXY/DqZJoqiktFI/s320/DSC_0005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Seena's picked out outfit for the next morning. Little Ms. Hannah Montana in the making!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7909111972655742339?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7909111972655742339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7909111972655742339' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7909111972655742339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7909111972655742339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/wordless-wednesday_31.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7Aa2frZDZI/AAAAAAAAAXY/DqZJoqiktFI/s72-c/DSC_0005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8275079418924753446</id><published>2010-03-30T06:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T06:35:00.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Own Food Revolution</title><content type='html'>Ever since Seena was born I would like to say that I've been conscience of what types of food I bring in the house. It really started with simple things like not buying foods that had a million ingredients, I tried to keep things a bit more "natural".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now a days I've become consumed with trying to educate myself and my kids (hubby is a &lt;strike&gt;alot&lt;/strike&gt; little tougher) on what is best for us to eat. I am soooo fascinated by the power of what foods can do for your body, your overall heath and everything in between. I understand what NOT to eat....that's easy but trying to figure out AND remember what does what is a bit of a challenge.&amp;nbsp;But once I slip in a "goodie" into the kid's&amp;nbsp;diet AND they like it...MAJOR SCORE! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep a list of all of the "Super Foods" on our refrigerator so I can try to eat those on a regular basis. We're doing pretty good except for the salmon...Teen hates it of course. She wants me to load up on all of the bad stuff but I just can't. I've agreed to some things like Hot Pockets, brown sugar pop-tarts and sugary cereals. I don't buy sodas and I only have one option of cookies in the pantry. I know my kids, especially Teen, would love it if our pantry was filled with processed food yumminess&amp;nbsp;but I just can't do it to them. Bad health (disease, cancer, sickness, etc)&amp;nbsp;is one of my deepest fears and I want my kid's bodies to be tough, bad-health fighting machines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my quest I've definitely had some major crash and burns...like the Spinach Soup.&amp;nbsp;Other times I&amp;nbsp;soar.&amp;nbsp;One of my latest triumphs&amp;nbsp;is yogurt and granola. I know it almost seems silly that kids wouldn't like this combo but you just never know...at least not with my kids. I thought for sure at least AJ would like the Spinach Soup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the granola is packed with all kinds of goodness. The yogurts good too, as long as it's a low sugar kind, but the the granola is the big winner here. I've found granola that has flax seed, pumpkin seed, tart cherries, almonds...all super foods. It's almost the perfect food except for the darn fat content (which I learned the hard way...thanks).&lt;br /&gt;My latest, latest&amp;nbsp;find was a "healthy" tortilla chip. I don't buy chips or cheese puffs or regular tortilla chips but when I saw this and tasted it I was sold! Plus it's organic and has flax in it. So awesome!! And it's awesomely delicious and the kids like it. SCORE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7ASlXHo1sI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/v-JJvcugpNQ/s1600/DSC_0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7ASlXHo1sI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/v-JJvcugpNQ/s320/DSC_0043.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And for even more interesting food revolution news:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Recently I found an article in a magazine for belly-busting foods. These are foods that actually eat away/reduce/get rid of belly fat! How awesome is that??? And it's easy stuff to eat; berries, dairy (whey), green tea, grains - LOVE me some quinoa, lean meats, etc. Since reading this article I've tried to eat as much as these certain foods as I can and I think I can tell a difference...(that is what I'm telling myself). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I even have a great visual for this wonderful belly-busting fat "diet" - little tiny belly-fat-eating piranhas nibbling away at my belly fat. I know it's gross but the visual works for me. Makes me feel like my belly is getting flatter! (ha!) I totally get that sit-ups would accomplish the same thing but since when did sit-ups become more fun than eating....anything period?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Favorite Quinoa Recipe - has replaced my morning oatmeal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;2 cups milk (skim or 1%)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;1 cup quinoa rinsed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;2-3 T brown sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;cinnamon&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Bring 2 cups of milk to a boil. Add quinoa. Lower to a simmer, cover and cook for 15 minutes, stirring often. Add 2-3 tablespoons (to taste) brown sugar. Add cinnamon (to taste). Cover and cook another 8 minutes, stirring occasionally. Split into bowls and eat immediately or save for leftovers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8275079418924753446?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8275079418924753446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8275079418924753446' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8275079418924753446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8275079418924753446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/our-own-food-revolution.html' title='Our Own Food Revolution'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7ASlXHo1sI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/v-JJvcugpNQ/s72-c/DSC_0043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3972439807788499581</id><published>2010-03-29T06:00:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T06:00:05.055-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A+ in Writing</title><content type='html'>Seena has come such a long way since she started Kindergarten. By the first interim we had a conference with the teacher and she was concerned with Seena's progress on learning her alphabet. So much so that Seena got extra help at school. We also did extra things at home like tape letter labels for items&amp;nbsp;around the house, we "quizzed" her on her ABC's as often as we could get away with and we looked for "letters" when we ran errands. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these efforts worked beautifully and Seena is doing awesome. Just like her teacher said, it would just "click" and it did. Now the class has progressed to reading and writing and it's one of the most magnificent things I've ever seen. My girl is reading AND writing! And SHE LOVES TO WRITE! She writes any chance she gets. By no means is it perfect but I can actually understand 90% of what she is trying to write. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7APjFPdwuI/AAAAAAAAAXA/RkmT58YmoZ4/s1600/DSC_0038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7APjFPdwuI/AAAAAAAAAXA/RkmT58YmoZ4/s320/DSC_0038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just this past Friday, Seena's teacher told me that Seena did an "AWESOME" writing sample. So awesome that it was read out loud to the class. That was my girl! Seena is not a star athlete or a gifted musician (yet -ha!) so I'll take these "star" moments and shout it out for all to hear. That was my girl! I couldn't be more proud!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;The assignment was to write about a special moment they had with a parent. Seena wrote about our "date" to the "theater" to see Aladdin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I went to a show with my mom and they plad Alanid. Wen we wr (were) weying (waiting) in lin we desded (decided) to get a drek and chips. I at (ate) cookes at hom."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Today I told Seena to grab daddy to come out and help me with the picnic table I was building for her. Apparently Daddy was taking a shower so Seena left him a note:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7APphjB1rI/AAAAAAAAAXI/xhEyy2pG8kI/s1600/DSC_0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" nt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7APphjB1rI/AAAAAAAAAXI/xhEyy2pG8kI/s320/DSC_0044.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Mom needs help with my bench pieces come and help mom"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;It's so great! This is my girl! She's writing!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3972439807788499581?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3972439807788499581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3972439807788499581' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3972439807788499581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3972439807788499581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/in-writing.html' title='A+ in Writing'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S7APjFPdwuI/AAAAAAAAAXA/RkmT58YmoZ4/s72-c/DSC_0038.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5062647921856267948</id><published>2010-03-26T22:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T22:26:13.587-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S61ntS2iqJI/AAAAAAAAAWw/SOV8-VuSYnA/s1600/leftoversbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S61ntS2iqJI/AAAAAAAAAWw/SOV8-VuSYnA/s320/leftoversbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I think I have mentioned on one or more occassion how much I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;dislike&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; wasting time. Today, I got off "work" early and decided to take advantage of the hour I had before picking up Seena to go for a much needed run. Afterwards, the plans were to&amp;nbsp;pick up Seena, get&amp;nbsp;her haircut, shop for Friday night dinner, movie night and Elena's b-day party. None of this involved any rushing. There was ample time..until I somehow, somewhere lost my only spare key to the house while running. Do I really need to tell you how badly this sucked!! I had to call my brother to come pick me up and he drove me around while I looked for my key. No luck...didn't find it. So then, I had to bother my husband on Friday afternoon (uh, happy hour) for his key. Needless to say my afternoon was ruined, there was no haircut and the rest of the evening was spent rushing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I'm trying to decide if I should take AJ to the circus this week. I definitely want to take Seena but he's 2. Is he too young?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I'm in a cooking rut. I don't want to cook, I don't know what to cook and I've even managed to avoid the big grocery shopping day. I think that is part of the problem, or really, the main problem. I only buy groceries that I need for a day or two, telling myself that I'll do the "big" trip later. Well, I never go and then I stress about what I'm going to make for dinner.&amp;nbsp;I used to prepare menus for the week and post them so that the family wouldn't ask me 50 times a week "what's for dinner"...I&amp;nbsp;haven't done this in so long&amp;nbsp;but maybe it's time I go back. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I&amp;nbsp;took the trampoline down (yeah!) and I'm anxiously waiting to build the big play gym set I bought for the kids. I secretly bought this for myself because now my kids will play &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;IN&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; our yard (instead of the neighbors 3 doors down) and I can also hang out &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;IN&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; my &lt;strike&gt;garden&lt;/strike&gt; yard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Need to call it a night because AJ has somehow manuevered himself behind me on my chair and has fallen asleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Goodnight Blogger world! Visit &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danifred&lt;/a&gt; for more leftovers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5062647921856267948?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5062647921856267948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5062647921856267948' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5062647921856267948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5062647921856267948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/friday-night-leftovers_26.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S61ntS2iqJI/AAAAAAAAAWw/SOV8-VuSYnA/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2682248849027584139</id><published>2010-03-24T21:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T21:53:18.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Open Doors</title><content type='html'>Ever since our restaurant closed we've been cruising along a ride of uncertainty. G was unemployed for forever and I was (still am) working a job that was (still is) just a job. Neither one of us knew where we were heading or what we really wanted to do. The silver lining of it all was that G got to spend (and make up) for a lot of missed kid/family time. But either way, our direction in life was uncertain. I prayed and prayed for God to open doors for us. I also prayed that God make sure he threw brick at my head so that I wouldn't miss&amp;nbsp;the door once it opened!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And little by little I think our door(s) are finally opening. I don't want to say too much just in case things don't go the way we want them too, especially since a big chunk of it relates to G, but for me, possibilites are opening up for me too. A dear friend of mine encouraged me and even fronted money for me to take a training course for a certification that once all is said and done, could double my salary. I am nervous about taking on something else on top of my already heavy "work load" but I am excited about the possibilities this could open up for me. Even though I've enjoyed my flexibility IMMENSELY, I've been feeling like I'm missing something. I'm no longer the career driven woman I thought I was prior to having kids, but I certainly do think that I need a job that has some meaning to me. I need this for me and my kids. Right now, Teen has no idea what I do....quite frankly, I don't think anyone really does. I know she knows that I don't like my job&amp;nbsp;and that bothers me. I want to be a good example for her, especially now that she's in High School and college is right around the corner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's to open doors and hopefully new possibilities....Cheers!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2682248849027584139?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2682248849027584139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2682248849027584139' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2682248849027584139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2682248849027584139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/open-doors.html' title='Open Doors'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6409359330011255209</id><published>2010-03-23T07:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T07:31:01.127-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Time</title><content type='html'>When I was growing up 5:30pm was dinner time, no ifs ands or buts about it. It was the same everyday. My dad wasn’t always there but for sure the rest of us were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward 20+ years and I’m still doing the same thing but only with my own family now. Our dinner time is 6:30 but our “family time” is from 5:00 to 7:00pm. This means we’re all suppose to be hanging out together in the same room. I allow the TV but definitely no computers. This was certainly a lot easier when G wasn’t working and fortunately our extracurricular activities are not so crazy (yet) that we can’t keep to the 6:30 dinner time most of the time. When G is home, it’s one of my most favorite times of the day. It’s great listening to Teen and G banter back and forth. They are both so alike and Teen, as I’ve mentioned before, is picking up his humor so they totally feed off of each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that G is working 6 out of 7 nights maintaining this sacred hour is much tougher but we’re still trying to stick to it as much as possible. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not always peachy king here in the Juno household; most of the time Seena is whining over something, AJ is trying to break into the pantry and Teen sneaks off whenever things get a little “much” BUT sometimes, the good times, it’s fun. It’s funny. It’s memorable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight G surprised everyone with WII Fit. He bought it for himself primarily...so that he can exercise *insert raised eyebrow here*. But nonetheless it’s a new toy for the house and Teen was all over it. Dinner was simply pizza – nothing fancy but conversation was funny and fun. Teen and G did their usual banter and the two younger ones played nicely for the most part. I just sat back and watched and listened. It really was family time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT the night got even better when Teen broke out the Wii Fit! What a hoot! I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in a very long time. Teen chose to do a “Head Butt Soccer Ball” workout. The gist of the “workout” was that she had to “head butt” approaching soccer balls from little WII soccer players. So not only was it hysterical watching her “head butt” the air but these little WII guys didn’t just kick soccer balls. They kicked their shoes too! Obviously you were supposed to avoid those but if you were so unlucky to not dodge the flying cleats they knocked you smack on the face! Between the graphics of the “character” being knocked in the face with a flying shoe and Teen trying to dodge AND head butt was just too much!! Hysterical!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s nights like these that make me so grateful that I have enforced the family time rule, even if I get a few eye rolls from time to time. We haven’t quite got to the point where we’re having family game nights, I hope we will, but for now I’ll take just hanging out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you spend family time?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6409359330011255209?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6409359330011255209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6409359330011255209' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6409359330011255209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6409359330011255209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/family-time.html' title='Family Time'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3002864157653157238</id><published>2010-03-22T10:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T10:05:57.320-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiet</title><content type='html'>Quiet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what it is right now. No TV, no kids, not even music. It's so nice. I haven't had a quiet day like this in a long time. I forgot how nice it is. I can actually think clearly, I think? And I'm not rushing or trying to multitask a hundred things. Sure, I got a bunch of things to do. The hubby is home too. He's sleeping but inevitably he will end up adding to my "things to do" list in one way or another. But for now, I'm enjoying this quietness guilt free. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's going to rain.all.day...even better...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3002864157653157238?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3002864157653157238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3002864157653157238' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3002864157653157238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3002864157653157238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/quiet.html' title='Quiet'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1262246579341921183</id><published>2010-03-19T22:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T22:56:30.503-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S6Qw4zvSDLI/AAAAAAAAAWo/X2I93VyRLlI/s1600-h/leftoversbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S6Qw4zvSDLI/AAAAAAAAAWo/X2I93VyRLlI/s320/leftoversbutton.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I'm torn between wanting to sleep in tomorrow, which I probably won't be able to because it will be Saturday and for whatever reason, my kids don't sleep in on Saturdays. Anyway, besides that, I'm torn between sleep and planting my pansies. I know it's silly but I LOVE me some gardening....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I'm almost 100% convinced I found a hair under Seena's arm. Is this normal? I thought this happened later...much later. Darn hormones in the milk! I think I may be going organic, at least for the milk.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Seena accused me of making her too busy. Maybe she does have one too many activities BUT in my defense, these activities are spaced out proportionately and some are not a weekly thing. So far &lt;strike&gt;I&lt;/strike&gt; we have her signed up for Dance, Tae Kwon, Do, Swim, Daisies, Kids for Jesus and we’re on the wait list for Soccer. A lot of this is just for her to test the waters and see what she likes. Dance may not make the cut next year but she’s loving her Swim and Tae Kwon Do classes. I never thought Soccer would be something that she would be interested in but it’s all she wants to play when she goes outside. So, again, in my defense, I have to know if this is real and the only way to do that is to let her play a season.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I glimpsed an article today that talked about a mother who had taught her 4 and 2 year old to 1) play quietly in their room(s) until the clock said 7, 2) they eat dried cereal for breakfast, 3) they have stickers on the remotes for the TV so they know what buttons to push....all so mom can sleep in until 8. Hmmm....yeah, that wouldn’t work for us. AJ would have every puzzle taken out and dumped, all my cookbooks pulled of shelves and he would eat everything in the pantry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I wonder if I'll ever get to my scrapbooks? Even with moving my craft supplies upstairs into "my" office, I haven't even touched them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Seena has a b-day party tomorrow that has 45 kids coming. 45! And the kid is registered at Target! I think this is brilliant because it elimates the guessing game plus I guess you have to with a guest list that size. Wow, 45!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;For more Friday Night Leftovers please visit our host &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sippy Cups&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/2389955483407063675-1262246579341921183?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1262246579341921183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1262246579341921183' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1262246579341921183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1262246579341921183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/friday-night-leftovers.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S6Qw4zvSDLI/AAAAAAAAAWo/X2I93VyRLlI/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-4945892530717261498</id><published>2010-03-18T00:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T00:05:37.857-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Certified Professional Mom, Mother, Mommy</title><content type='html'>I know it's been written and said a thousand times but I truly think moms have one of the hardest jobs out there and just like other professionals get fancy titles behind their names, well, so should moms. I read an article eons ago about what a stay-at-home mom's salary would equate to. I recall it being around $70,000. I think it should be more. Being a mom isn't just one job, one responsibility; it's all jobs and all responsibilities. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a shame that more don't understand or see this but unless you actually live it, you just don't know. I was lucky to have a strong mom who did everything but I still didn't get ALL what it meant to be a mom. It's scary and extremely fulfilling at the same time. Moms do not get any training; there are no programs or degrees&amp;nbsp;in Motherhood. The skills we learn we learn on our own. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often wonder what Teen sees in me. Does she see a strong mom like I saw or does she see a crazy lady trying to keep her head on straight? On my worst days I like to play pretend with Teen and say "you see this, this mad house? This should be all the birth control you need. This could be your life instead of&amp;nbsp;trying to convince me to&amp;nbsp;let you&amp;nbsp;go to Prom".&amp;nbsp;Hah! Maybe that could be something that gets taught in school! Forget sex education, let's just stick our teens in a mom role for a week, that'll work much better. And I've totally gotten off topic....let's get back shall we?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moms. Moms are:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moms are not just chefs or cooks, we're also nutritionists. Not only do we need to know how to cook but we have to keep up with processed foods, trans fat, hormones, additives, dyes, sugar, stress, white flour, pesticides, msg...&lt;br /&gt;Presidents of households. Face it ladies, we are our own Presidents. We rule the coup. &lt;br /&gt;Executive Assistant to the President of households. We are also our own Executive Assistants.&lt;br /&gt;Scheduler/Programmer/Logistics manager&lt;br /&gt;Event Planner/Project manager&lt;br /&gt;Markeing manager/coordinator/sales manager&amp;nbsp;- hello Girl Scouts; Boy Scouts&lt;br /&gt;Politician/Peace Maker/Secretary of Family&lt;br /&gt;Bodyguard&lt;br /&gt;Maid&lt;br /&gt;Networker&lt;br /&gt;Teacher/Scholar&lt;br /&gt;Coach/Instructor/Cheerleader&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strike&gt;Law&lt;/strike&gt; Rule Enforcement&lt;br /&gt;Psychologist/Therapists/Nurse Practitioner - at some point we will be/are dealing with &lt;strike&gt;mental&lt;/strike&gt; emotional teens and every other possible boo boo or scratch.&lt;br /&gt;Chaufer&lt;br /&gt;Super hero - our kids think we can do anything :)&lt;br /&gt;Role Model - this is the one that scares me the most. How do I know I'm doing the right thing? Especially now that I have 3 kids watching my every move. If it's not already difficult enough to BE all of those professions but we must try to at least appear that you've got it all together too. I hope my kids will read this one day and realize that being a mom, whether it's a full time job or if it's in addition to a full time job, it's the hardest but most rewarding job out there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing else compares. Nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-4945892530717261498?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/4945892530717261498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=4945892530717261498' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4945892530717261498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4945892530717261498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/certified-professional-mom-mother-mommy.html' title='Certified Professional Mom, Mother, Mommy'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1939924091080564428</id><published>2010-03-17T10:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T10:00:10.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not so Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>I tend to forget how short I REALLY am until I stumble upon pictures like this....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5_nHeZxRBI/AAAAAAAAAWg/yCPCFUd4tOc/s1600-h/dscn0757.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5_nHeZxRBI/AAAAAAAAAWg/yCPCFUd4tOc/s320/dscn0757.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hello, my name is dwarf and this is my husband, Mr. Giant.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1939924091080564428?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1939924091080564428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1939924091080564428' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1939924091080564428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1939924091080564428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/not-so-wordless-wednesday.html' title='Not so Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5_nHeZxRBI/AAAAAAAAAWg/yCPCFUd4tOc/s72-c/dscn0757.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-4909167158661274588</id><published>2010-03-16T08:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T08:37:17.665-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Momma, the 35 Year Old Dora</title><content type='html'>It took me awhile but I finally figured out why my son was so attached to Dora. Don't get me wrong, he has his favorite boy toys like cars and baby dolls but his favorite book is a Dora Choo Choo book and he sleeps holding a minature Dora figurerine (spelling?). I didn't get it, why Dora? And then one day out of the blue, while he was getting ready to nap and he was placing Dora next to him on the pillow, I asked him&amp;nbsp;"who's that?". He responded, "Momma"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I can see the resemblance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S59yB6PsDWI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/SCEXxut2YG8/s1600-h/Jessica1.09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S59yB6PsDWI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/SCEXxut2YG8/s320/Jessica1.09.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S591A1AU4kI/AAAAAAAAAWY/7QH7lt9W2a4/s1600-h/598dora-the-explorer-posters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S591A1AU4kI/AAAAAAAAAWY/7QH7lt9W2a4/s320/598dora-the-explorer-posters.jpg" vt="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;What do you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-4909167158661274588?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/4909167158661274588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=4909167158661274588' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4909167158661274588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4909167158661274588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/momma-35-year-old-dora.html' title='Momma, the 35 Year Old Dora'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S59yB6PsDWI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/SCEXxut2YG8/s72-c/Jessica1.09.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7946544052544871164</id><published>2010-03-11T22:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T22:01:31.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Understand</title><content type='html'>I don't understand how a child that I love with all of my being can infuse me with such rage that I feel like my head is going to explode. I've NEVER known anger this way. Between the not listening, the warnings for punishments, the choices, the actual punishment and the subsequent whining,&amp;nbsp;crying, screaming, crying and whining&amp;nbsp;after the punishment I&amp;nbsp;lose it. I honestly feel as if an angry beast is inside of me and all I want to do is scream. I know I must look like one when I've finally had it and I'm inches from Seena's face scolding her with my high pitched voice and telling her that I'm done, done, done, DONE and that I don't want anything to do with her for the rest of the night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can I say and feel those things for something that is the most precious thing to me? Where does this anger come from? No one, not even my husband, has ever made me as mad as Seena does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it the age? Is it normal? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see how people become abusive, when I get that angry that's all I want to do. I want to beat her, I want to beat my child. What is wrong with me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I went to Confession months ago, I contemplated whether I really needed to go. I wasn't a sinner. I didn't do bad things. I've never committed adultry and I certainly have never killed anyone, why did I need to go? Well, I learned that in fact I have committed all 10 mortal sins, even killing. I've killed in anger. I've killed my daughter's spirit with my anger. I may not resort to beating her but I certainly hurt her with my anger and my words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What kind of mother am I? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't understand how I can be engulfed with rage wanting to hurt my child one minute and then weeping over the pain I just caused the next. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. I'm so, so&amp;nbsp;sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7946544052544871164?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7946544052544871164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7946544052544871164' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7946544052544871164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7946544052544871164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/dont-understand.html' title='Don&apos;t Understand'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5651422803050829730</id><published>2010-03-10T12:00:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T12:00:04.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Even under all of the weight of winter's heavy snow,&amp;nbsp;little life's&amp;nbsp;beauties survive&amp;nbsp;and shows promise of sunnier days ahead...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5Tm2fgwL5I/AAAAAAAAAVI/ZtN6rHIBmMQ/s1600-h/DSC06666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5Tm2fgwL5I/AAAAAAAAAVI/ZtN6rHIBmMQ/s320/DSC06666.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5651422803050829730?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5651422803050829730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5651422803050829730' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5651422803050829730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5651422803050829730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5Tm2fgwL5I/AAAAAAAAAVI/ZtN6rHIBmMQ/s72-c/DSC06666.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-607218951442490473</id><published>2010-03-09T16:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T16:11:18.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena Smarty Pants</title><content type='html'>A sampling of some of Seena's Smarty Pants talk I was&amp;nbsp;subjected to this past weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of a sharing episode between Seena and AJ, I tried to explain to her (again)&amp;nbsp;that AJ doesn't understand because he's 2. Seena's response, "Well, I hope he understands when he's 3!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being issued a strike 3 and realizing that it meant not getting any TV time for the evening, Seena began her tantrum and crying that I lied to her. See, normally Strike 3 means "no friends or playtime with friends" but since it was Sunday evening when the warning for the&amp;nbsp;Strike 3 was given, I &lt;strong&gt;told&lt;/strong&gt; Seena she would lose TV time if she got the Strike 3. Well, she got it and conveniently forgot that I told her the strike was for TV and not friends. Anyway, tantrum and arguing starts. I try, unsuccessfully, to remind her that I did warn her but she wanted no part of it and told me she didn't want to talk to me anymore and to leave her alone. I don't listen and try to explain further that I understood why she was angry but that she needed to stop arguing WITH ME. She shot back; "Well, just like I got in trouble for not listening to you, you are now doing the same thing and not listening TO ME". Aw, snap....did she just call me a hypocrite? Well, Ms. Smarty Pants proved her point and I apologized. That was SO not how I thought that situation was going to end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-607218951442490473?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/607218951442490473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=607218951442490473' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/607218951442490473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/607218951442490473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/seena-smarty-pants.html' title='Seena Smarty Pants'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1682038874693371171</id><published>2010-03-08T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T22:02:29.991-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday's Adventure</title><content type='html'>In true JunoMom fashion I jam packed another day of activites for the kiddies. But as I reflect on yesterday, I really wish that things just lived up to my expectations, for once. I know the kids had fun and they could care less if things were more structured or if there was "more to it" but still, I get all excited thinking how great something is going to be and then it turns out to be nothing great. At least the kids got to run around outside and Seena got to see some "castles" as we drove through a very affluent neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And our adventure begins....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Church&lt;/strong&gt; - I take them, and as long as I bring a baggie of snacks for AJ, he can almost sit quietly through the entire mass. I forgot the snacks yesterday and of course that is the first thing he asks for when we sit in our usual spot in the back. I really didn't get much of the mass as I spent most of the time following AJ and keeping him out of the donuts that were meant for AFTER mass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Maple Syrup Boil Down&lt;/strong&gt; - I've been actually trying to go to this event for a few years now. The idea sounded great - showing everyone how maple syrup is made, colonial set-up, free cornbread and a tasting of the maple syrup. With Seena learning about George Washington, Abe Lincoln, Plymouth Rock and the Pilgrims, I thought this&amp;nbsp;would be&amp;nbsp;a fun way to visually see how things were like back then. Not so: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st disappointment was there was only 1 blacksmith shop and the kids just weren't interested in the blacksmith making a sharp tool. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd disappointment - there was no taking maple syrup from the trees. The syrup was already boiling in a big pot. How much fun is it to watch a pot cook over a fire? They get to see that everyday at home. I suppose I should have paid more attention to the name of the event but seriously, I thought it would have entailed a little more than an actual boil down. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3rd disappointment - the maple syrup that we sampled was commerical. The honey we tried was from local bees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hightlight - I got a great picture of Seena and a hug from a random lady when she saw how frustrated I looked at watching my son scurry away only to trip over every rock he came across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1DBe4P3I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/YLtV_vHxvFg/s320/DSC06671.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1I8s_tvI/AAAAAAAAAVY/HX1xYQQnjFs/s1600-h/DSC06670.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1I8s_tvI/AAAAAAAAAVY/HX1xYQQnjFs/s320/DSC06670.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1NJuSfBI/AAAAAAAAAVg/O_Nv9MLAjPA/s1600-h/DSC06672.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1NJuSfBI/AAAAAAAAAVg/O_Nv9MLAjPA/s320/DSC06672.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1QhazwUI/AAAAAAAAAVo/QAIUjAGJFl4/s1600-h/DSC06675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1QhazwUI/AAAAAAAAAVo/QAIUjAGJFl4/s320/DSC06675.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chocolate Festival&lt;/strong&gt; - next on the list was the Chocolate Lovers Festival. Of all the "events" scheduled for this festival only two stuck out as any interest to us; the Tasting (ahem, chocolate) and the Chocolate Creations gallery. They&amp;nbsp;even advertised that one of the Food Network Challenge competitors would be there. I thought&amp;nbsp;THIS would be&amp;nbsp;great. Seena LOVES watching the FN Challenge shows, especially the cake decorating ones. She loved seeing the cakes so I thought she would love to see chocoate creations. Now, in my mind, I'm thinking these creations were going to look like what we see on TV, you know, Vegas style :) Not so. These creations, albiet a few from actual bakeries, were creations made by anyone but professionals. Some&amp;nbsp;(2) were cute. Seena still enjoyed seeing the 5 or 6 that were displayed. Yes, you read correctly. There were only 5-6 creations displayed in the "showing".&amp;nbsp; I think Seena and I are going to enter next year just because.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;The tasting wasn't much better. As I approached the Old Town Hall where the tasting was being held, I saw a line wrapping around the building. Now, a smart mom would have&amp;nbsp;turned around and walked away. Not I. This &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;was&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; a chocolate tasting after all. Plus&amp;nbsp;it was Sunday (a freebie day from Lent - it's true, I looked it up) and after depriving myself from sweets for 2 weeks, I was definitely going to get some!&amp;nbsp; Anyway, the place was a madhouse. It was jam packed, literally. It&amp;nbsp; may not have been as bad had I gone alone or with another adult who enjoyed chocolate as much as I do. I think I ended up eating more chocolate than the kids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Highlight here - dipping strawberries in the chocolate fountain. And I got to eat LOTS and LOTS of chocolate :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T12YnFTUI/AAAAAAAAAVw/h_BcHCR8Bic/s1600-h/DSC06676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T12YnFTUI/AAAAAAAAAVw/h_BcHCR8Bic/s320/DSC06676.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T15oaDcsI/AAAAAAAAAV4/WqXli0PIOMo/s1600-h/DSC06677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T15oaDcsI/AAAAAAAAAV4/WqXli0PIOMo/s320/DSC06677.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T2BCCEOLI/AAAAAAAAAWI/kG0JOktNdDA/s1600-h/DSC06680.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T2BCCEOLI/AAAAAAAAAWI/kG0JOktNdDA/s320/DSC06680.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1682038874693371171?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1682038874693371171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1682038874693371171' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1682038874693371171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1682038874693371171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/sundays-adventure_08.html' title='Sunday&apos;s Adventure'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5T1DBe4P3I/AAAAAAAAAVQ/YLtV_vHxvFg/s72-c/DSC06671.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8377864221745734695</id><published>2010-03-07T09:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T09:26:08.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Saturday(s)</title><content type='html'>A few weeks ago G asked why I just didn't write about what we did everyday. At first I thought it would be somewhat boring as there are days where either nothing really significant happens, the day is just too busy or AJ won't let me sit in front of the computer long enough to write something. Plus I don't have the gift of making the mundane interesting...I wish I did...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, now that G is working ALL.OF.THE.TIME and he misses out on so much, I may take him up on this. Plus, if I tried to tell him the events of the day in detail (like I love) his eyes would glaze over and he would tell me to "land the plane". So, this is for you G...and all the fun you missed out on yesterday ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to start off with G getting home at 4:00am from work. This is important&amp;nbsp;for the simple&amp;nbsp;fact that I purposely jam pack my mornings with out-of-the-house activities so that G can get some much needed sleep. For this week, I've added swimming to&amp;nbsp;Seena's growing agenda. So, at&amp;nbsp;4:00am G comes home,&amp;nbsp;I wake up and we exchange hellos, how was work, etc. I fall back to sleep only to be woken up at 6:00am by AJ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 8:50am we are out the door to go to Seena's first swim class. The class is only scheduled for 30 minutes but I packed my bathing suit and AJ's just in case. I was looking forward to letting AJ have some water time (san me) in the beach area at the pool while Seena took her class. Not so. Swim classes for all ages took up the ENTIRE pool area so we just got to watch. Thank goodness AJ actually sat through this without any issues. Afterwards we get ready to leave and I realized I forgot to pack toiletries for the ever so important after the pool shower. Had to borrow shampoo. Yes, I was that mom. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked out of the locker, I stepped on the scale to see if my new Lent diet (no red meat or sweets) has done wonders to my weight. Not so. Not happy. We move on with my grumpy pants now on. Off to dance class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drop Seena off and AJ and I proceed to run an errand and then to Wegman's to get lunch. For whatever reason AJ does not like Wegmans. He can sit through grocery shopping almost anywhere except for Wegmans. I don't get it...but whatever we made it, barely. And just for a side note...why should healthy food be more expensive? Last week lunch was McD's. I spent about $6.50 for the kids. Our Wegman's lunch this week&amp;nbsp;was almost $20.00; soup for the 3 of us, cornbread, salad for me and fruit for the kids. Not fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick up Seena from dance and we drive over to the local library to drop off books and hopefully find a picnic table to have lunch. My biggest mistake here was that I should have checked the weather for an update. I knew it was going to be in the 50s - perfect for a little outside lunch - what I didn't count on was the wind. A nice frosty wind. We find a picnic table (at the library) and get all set up. Soups are poured in cups and ready eat. Seena has to pee. Without fail..always happens. Repack all of the food minus one (hot)&amp;nbsp;soup cup that has no lid that I carry in one&amp;nbsp;hand and in the other I'm dragging (literally) a hungry toddler. We all finish our business and make it back to the table. And what a sight for sore eyes we were. It was so windy and so cold. Thank goodness I had towels, an emergency blanket and a bag of sweaters that need to go the dry cleaners in my car. I took it all out and wrapped my kids (and myself) in all of it. We looked like a bunch of hobos crouched over a hot fire, in our case hot soup. As soon as the soups were done we finished the rest of our food in the car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next on the list was TKD. By this point it's after lunch and AJ is ready for a much needed nap. Because we can't do this quite yet he rewards me with &lt;strike&gt;horrible&lt;/strike&gt; stellar behavior during Seena's 30 minute class. Highlight here was G made a surprise visit. Seena was overjoyed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We make it home (finally!) and AJ goes down quickly for a nap. Teen and I exchange words&amp;nbsp;because she can't wait an extra 45 minutes to go to a friend's house so that I can get a quick run in, I make her clean her bathroom and vacuum, G leaves for work with Teen&amp;nbsp;and I go outside to do some outdoor gardening chores. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ wakes up and we all go outside to play with all of the neighborhood kids that are out (love that I live in a neighborhood like this). Unfortunately, our outdoor fun time does not last long before Seena has an accident and takes a nose dive&amp;nbsp;to the sidewalk. I was behind her when it happened and as soon as I saw her fall I instantly pictured a mangled face, missing teeth...the works. I run over to her (while carrying AJ and his wheely thing) and assess the damage. Thanfully, not too bad..phew! Painful...yes, screaming 5 year old... yes...but no serious damage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5O1yO2UMQI/AAAAAAAAAU4/PoYdk_N8MM0/s1600-h/DSC06660.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5O1yO2UMQI/AAAAAAAAAU4/PoYdk_N8MM0/s320/DSC06660.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The rest of the night was pretty typical with one exception. I decided to make some changes around the house...for me. See everyone in my house has their own "space". Not me. Now that G is gone most of the time and he got a new laptop from work, he no longer needs to be in the "office". So, I moved some things around and made the office "my space", complete with even my scrapbook supplies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5O11kV5y-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/AXhOfTIKmvU/s1600-h/DSC06662.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5O11kV5y-I/AAAAAAAAAVA/AXhOfTIKmvU/s320/DSC06662.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know G won't be thrilled which is why I pretended to be asleep when he got home at 4:00am this morning and will be gone for most of the day today :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8377864221745734695?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8377864221745734695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8377864221745734695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8377864221745734695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8377864221745734695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/our-saturdays.html' title='Our Saturday(s)'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S5O1yO2UMQI/AAAAAAAAAU4/PoYdk_N8MM0/s72-c/DSC06660.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6336848591225423542</id><published>2010-03-04T07:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T10:16:36.389-05:00</updated><title type='text'>AJ - 2.2</title><content type='html'>Thank goodness for &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danifred&lt;/a&gt; to remind me what I should be keeping up with :) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ is 2 years and 2 months. If it wasn't for my lost metabolism and carbs, I wouldn't need to work out. The little tot has me running around all of the time! I'm either chasing him down the street, literally, chasing him around the house or running to keep him from falling, knocking down/over, spilling, dumping or eating. You would think my house was a prison the way he takes off as soon as he steps foot outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ is still a copy cat. He mimics everything Seena does. If she's practicing a dance move, so is he. My favorite is when Seena does a twirl-kick combo. AJ gets right in there and does his own version and then walks away so confident you would think he landed a perfect triple axle flip. It's so darn cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ's favorite activity is pulling off the couch pillows and jumping on them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ can actually sit in time-out by himself now....for 20 seconds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I don't want him to grow any faster than he already is, I am looking forward to him getting just a little older so that I can put him in some sort of activity. I'm considering the little soccer programs for him but I know that there is a class at our local fitness center that incorporates all sports, not just soccer, but the age starts at 2 1/2. I also thought about swimming but I feel like it's a waste of money for his age. Any thoughts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ has now officially crossed over into Picky Eater territory. He decides to eat his food by plate/bowl appeal now. Gone are the days where he would eat anything. Perfect example would be the spinach soup I made last week. It was very tasty, especially with Parmesan Cheese sprinkled in it. He took one look at the green liquid and wanted nothing to do with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And lastly, I'm starting to get a little concerned with his lack of words. He talks, he is my child, but he's not talking talking. I can understand him and I know what he wants but I feel like he's not exactly where he should be. Our daycare provider noted it as well as was going to keep an eye on it as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S4-rQ3k-OKI/AAAAAAAAAUw/AKhKPQltmj8/s1600-h/DSC06403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S4-rQ3k-OKI/AAAAAAAAAUw/AKhKPQltmj8/s320/DSC06403.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;All in all; for all of his craziness, he is so sweet and loving. And so darn cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6336848591225423542?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6336848591225423542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6336848591225423542' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6336848591225423542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6336848591225423542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/03/aj-22.html' title='AJ - 2.2'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S4-rQ3k-OKI/AAAAAAAAAUw/AKhKPQltmj8/s72-c/DSC06403.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7359972739054978884</id><published>2010-02-27T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T17:22:32.725-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Teen &amp; Dating</title><content type='html'>Today was the first real day G and I had to address the issue of Teen and dating. Teen has had boyfriends and has had them over, has gone to the movies with them within a group but she's never been on an official date...as far as I know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she started High School&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;we&lt;/strong&gt; (G included)&amp;nbsp;set some rules. No dating anyone over 10th grade and no official dates until she was 16. This has worked out just fine for both her and us. Until today. She was invited to go to Tropical Smoothie by a boy, a Junior. She mentioned this to me yesterday and because the meeting time was going to be in the afternoon, I was willing to let her go. G was too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to today. I asked Teen to baby sit the kids along with YaYa because I was giving myself the rare opportunity to go out with friends. She, of course, gave me some grief about it but finally agreed. We then began the following text exchange:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teen - I'm going to go to Tropical Smoothie at 6, can YaYa watch the kids for an hour?&lt;br /&gt;Me - How do you&amp;nbsp; plan on getting there?&lt;br /&gt;Teen - He's picking me up ?&lt;br /&gt;Me - That's a no. I can take you at 5 and pick you up at 6.&lt;br /&gt;Teen - Why not? He's the guy that takes me to school all the time. Well I'm not doing that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***interupt for clarificaiton*** This boy has picked her up twice and is the older brother of a friend of Teens. So, she's never been alone in the car with him....as far as I know***back to our text***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teen - Pleasee&lt;br /&gt;Me - I'm sorry no. You're not suppose to be going out with anyone over 10th anyway. Be thankful I'm letting you go at all.&lt;br /&gt;Teen - Wow. I'm not even dating him. He invited me to tropical smoothie!&lt;br /&gt;Me&amp;nbsp;- That was very nice of him, you can meet him there.&lt;br /&gt;Teen - I'm not going&lt;br /&gt;Me - ok&lt;br /&gt;Teen - k&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I'm sure I'm on her hate list for the evening but I stand by my decision. And because one day my kids will be reading this, (as I'm writing this&amp;nbsp;Teen is reading past posts) I want to reiterate my reasons why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Our initital rule was - no boyfriends/dates over 10th grade&lt;br /&gt;2. I've never met the boy&lt;br /&gt;3. She was going to be alone in the car with him. With a boy I've never met.&lt;br /&gt;4. She's 15.&lt;br /&gt;5. If I say yes to Tropical Smoothie today, next week it will be dinner, and then a movie and then a senior....no thank you.&lt;br /&gt;6. And finally, maybe it makes no difference or not but Teen has been badly hurt by her ex BFF. This BFF has started horrible rumors about Teen that has affected her reputation with the upper classmen at school. I feel pretty confident that these rumors are just that. From conversations I've had with her and her reactions to certain situations gives me the impression that the rumors are false. However, I can help the nagging mom feeling that if I let her go out with this junior, it will only add fuel to the fire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know for now it sucks. I'm sure I would have been pissed at my mom too. But one day, when Teen is a mom of&amp;nbsp;a hormonal teenager, I hope she'll understand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a side note - I was asked earlier why I chose Juno Mom as my name. And the answer is ....my husband gave me the nickname because of my super sexy outfits I wear to bed. If you've seen the movie you can imagine what those outfits are :) Hey, between my house being super cold, a dog sleeping in my bed and kids in and out of the bedroom at all ours of the night, he's lucky he even gets some :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7359972739054978884?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7359972739054978884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7359972739054978884' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7359972739054978884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7359972739054978884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/teen-dating.html' title='Teen &amp; Dating'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-662757412855723361</id><published>2010-02-26T23:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T23:01:26.017-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S4iQN3qhUyI/AAAAAAAAAUo/bGGDhSpicdU/s1600-h/leftoversbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S4iQN3qhUyI/AAAAAAAAAUo/bGGDhSpicdU/s320/leftoversbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;As a follow up to my red meat post and to the suggestions of eating dark and leafy greens, I made a spinach soup this evening. I came upon this yummy goodness at Wegman's yesterday and I was surprised at how good and low fat it was. No cream! Unfortunately, no one else in my family thought the same thing and I have enough spinach soup to last me until Easter. Fun. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I hate my husband's job. No, that is incorrect, I hate the line of work he is in. I know he loves it and therefore I feel guilty but his hours suck. He closes 6 nights a week, which means he works from 2pm to 3-4am. The kids never see him and I'm left with doing EVERYTHING. I'm not ungrateful, especially since he was unemployed for so long but it's hard. And I'm tired. And this is my blog. He knows he's not contributing and feels badly about it. I've even gotten a few "I promise I'll clean on such and such date". Mmhmm. I'm lucky now if he even makes the bed before he leaves. We've been told this type of schedule is temporary and will lighten up soon. I hope so.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;AJ knows how to count 1. It's so cute. Earlier today (or yesterday?) I, out of the blue,&amp;nbsp;asked AJ to count&amp;nbsp;something with me and piped right in with "one".&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I have a secret fascination with The Duggars. Not that I want to have 20 or however many kids they have, I'm just curious&amp;nbsp;HOW they do it. I know some of it is TV stuff but they're very religious so I can't imagine they would deliberately lie or be deceitful. How does she manage to raise all those kids, homeschool them and have, what appears like, a happy, respectful and&amp;nbsp;organized home. I'm actually reading their book. I clearly have issues but I may get some new ideas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;We're back to having major issues with bed wetting and soiled pants with the missy. I finally gave in and bought her pull-ups. It took a lot to get her to finally agree to where them but she's wearing them (at night only).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;It appears Teen has picked up G's sarcastic wittiness and sense of humor. She's quite funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Seena is still obsessed with Teen being only her "half sister" but it's all behind my back. Today, she told her old 2's teacher at daycare while we were picking up AJ. I only found out because the teacher pulled my aside to tell me. I wonder where she got all this from and why she seems to be obsessed with it. I believe some deeper&amp;nbsp;investigation is in order.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;For more leftover see our host &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danifred&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/2389955483407063675-662757412855723361?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/662757412855723361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=662757412855723361' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/662757412855723361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/662757412855723361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/friday-night-leftovers_26.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S4iQN3qhUyI/AAAAAAAAAUo/bGGDhSpicdU/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3565368493774002800</id><published>2010-02-24T22:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T22:28:58.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No Red Meat = No Energy</title><content type='html'>And as any mom knows, no energy is not an option. What I can say is that I'm pooped, literally. I am dragging a$$. All I think about all day is closing my eyes and going to sleep.&amp;nbsp;Up until today I couldn't figure out what was wrong&amp;nbsp;with me. I'm never like this unless I'm sick and that even only lasts&amp;nbsp;24 hours.&amp;nbsp;I don't think it's my job overload.&amp;nbsp;Even working all 4 in one week,&amp;nbsp;it still doesn't make&amp;nbsp;40 hours...not that I want it to but I'm just saying...it's not the work that's making me tired. It's not the kids either, as hectic and nonstop as they are, I'm used to that. So, I'm left with the red meat. It's the only change I've made recenlty. And in just one&amp;nbsp;week it may already be kicking my butt. I've been yawning and have been exhausted all week. All I want to do is lay in bed. My poor husband is just appalled that I would have the "audacity" to yawn around him. I know, dude, I get it, your tired, you work until 3am every night and only get 4 hours of sleep....but I'm not getting any red meat and I'm tired too! I guess that's what it is...It's the only thing that has changed. I guess it's the lack of iron. It's started to affect my running again. Today I ran with lead weights for legs. It sucked. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I will need to do some research on some dietary alternatives&amp;nbsp;as I intend to stick this through. One of the main reasons I chose to give this up was to see how my body would react. I've been doing a lot of reading on eating a plant-based diet and all of the health benefits associated with it. I'm not saying that I want to be vegan, I don't think I could, but it still intrigues me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've heard some rumors of being allowed to indulge in your Lental sacrifice on Sundays. If things don't improve mighty quickly I may be cooking up an all-beef buffet this Sunday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do these vegetarian athletes do it? Where do they get their energy from? In just the time it has taken me to write this blog, I think I've fallen asleep 4 times. As a matter of fact, I don't even know if what I have written makes sense or is even interesting...I need to go to sleep...I'm getting delirious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any suggestions for iron intake (besides a vitamin?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3565368493774002800?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3565368493774002800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3565368493774002800' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3565368493774002800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3565368493774002800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-red-meat-no-energy.html' title='No Red Meat = No Energy'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8089219523918866304</id><published>2010-02-19T22:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T22:05:56.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WsSoZmRnJpc/S31tRU0adgI/AAAAAAAAD3c/T_7jcFn7H-c/s400/leftoversbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Between a squirmy toddler on my lap and my painfully slow computer I've given up trying to share the love on fellow Friday Night bloggers for tonight. Sorry ladies, I'll catch up this weekend...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Of the 3 days Seena was in school this week I juggled all 4 of my jobs and ended up having to run, in heels no less, to pick up Seena from school on time. I suppose I need to revisit my time management skills. I really felt silly, especially in my heels, but with all of this darn snow piled up everywhere, there was no place to park close to the school and the traffic to just get close to the school was ridiculous! I was so super late today that I risked serious car damage and probably some heated words by parking in someone's "cleared" parking spot just so I could get closer to the school. I'm so glad it's Friday!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;To further elaborate on my time management issues, I could put Seena back in aftercare to give me more time in the day but I just can't. One, it doesn't make financial sense at all and two, there are only 2-3 other girls in the program, all of whom leave usually by 5:00pm if not earlier. There have been so many days where I've walked by the classroom at 5:15 and the class is full of boys only. Seena would be so miserable there and I just can't put her through that just to give me an extra hour to do whatever. I just need to tighten up my schedule.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AJ plays with dolls and barbies. No big deal....I know it makes no difference but it's another thing to see my son rolling around on the floor at daycare wearing a full blown princess dress and tutu skirt. Apparently he was dancing. And ooh, he was so proud of his dress when I got there.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This evening before movie night started, Seena gave me some choices of activities that she would show me..kind of like a show. The list was karate, dance, down floor, turn dance, cool dance or 2 karate girls. I picked cool dance but we never got to it because Seena's playdate arrived for movie night. Tomorrow I get to see down floor and turn dance (raise eyebrow here).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Seena got her first social call the other night. Out of the blue a classmate (and Daisy mate) called Seena to chit-chat. After the initial confused look, Seena took the phone and jabbered away. G thought I was joking when I told him. It appears we may have another little social butterfly on our hands.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've decided to give up red meat and desserts/sweets for Lent. No, I'm not trying to be a vegetarian, I'm just interested to see what happens if I don't eat meat for 40 days. I don't think it will be too hard since I don't really crave to eat it other than an occasional craving for a juicy hamburger. &amp;nbsp;We'll see. I usually give up Diet Coke and chocolate but I think I'm going for the extreme this time around. I'm going hardcore and no sweets! This is going to be painful...my GS cookies just came in and I love me some Tag-a-longs!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I think it's time for me to go since my squirmy toddler has now left my lap and is sleeping on the floor next to me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good night....for more leftovers check-out our host &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sippy Cups&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/2389955483407063675-8089219523918866304?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8089219523918866304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8089219523918866304' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8089219523918866304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8089219523918866304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/friday-night-leftovers_19.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WsSoZmRnJpc/S31tRU0adgI/AAAAAAAAD3c/T_7jcFn7H-c/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1651302291966033281</id><published>2010-02-18T19:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T19:34:00.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Positive Reinforcement</title><content type='html'>In my ever quest to find the appropriate and most successful discpline for my crazy toddler I am settling on the positive reinforcement method (for now). Other than the occassional &lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt;.no.&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;no&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;NO&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;NO&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;AJ!&lt;/span&gt;, I am really, really, really&amp;nbsp;trying not to yell at my kids. Seena is a backtalker and is already an emotional mess and well, AJ, just thinks it's all funny. So with positive reinforcement I am patiently &lt;strike&gt;with gritted teeth&lt;/strike&gt; remembering NOT to focus on the wrong but&amp;nbsp;on all the good AJ does. Naturally, there is a lot of "Good boy, AJ", high 5's so on, what have you. Good right? Remember the emotional mess up there? Well, she's starting to show a little jealousy. Anytime I say "good boy", "good job" or seem super happy of over something positive AJ did, I get a pouty lipped 5 year old asking why she's not getting a "good job". Instead of going along with it and just giving her a high five or a "you're always doing a good job" response, I dive right into a full explanation of how mommy is trying to show AJ how HAPPY mommy is when he does the right thing instead of yelling when he does something naughty...you know...positive reinforcement. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In return I get a blank stare followed by, "yeah, I don't understand that. You'll need to draw me a picture."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1651302291966033281?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1651302291966033281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1651302291966033281' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1651302291966033281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1651302291966033281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/positive-reinforcement.html' title='Positive Reinforcement'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-391174042365564214</id><published>2010-02-17T12:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T12:50:00.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;A favorite past-time of Seena's - playing dress-up with my clothes&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3mKUw-nGvI/AAAAAAAAAUg/jea4hJNCSNg/s1600-h/DSC06098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ct="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3mKUw-nGvI/AAAAAAAAAUg/jea4hJNCSNg/s320/DSC06098.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-391174042365564214?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/391174042365564214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=391174042365564214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/391174042365564214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/391174042365564214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/wordless-wednesday_17.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3mKUw-nGvI/AAAAAAAAAUg/jea4hJNCSNg/s72-c/DSC06098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6759178905635648004</id><published>2010-02-12T20:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T20:00:01.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IrVgDwSFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/PX7C-bzQmdg/s1600-h/leftoversbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IrVgDwSFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/PX7C-bzQmdg/s320/leftoversbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I really am disliking this new blogger, mainly because of the missing spellcheck button. If it's really there and I can't see please let me know. I'm not a horrible misspeller but I like having the comfort zone of having the "button" to catch any mistakes. Especially now since I really do think I'm losing brain cells. I am "forgetting" how to talk, spell, write...I'm&amp;nbsp;assuming it's because I lack adult conversation on a regular/daily basis but maybe not...maybe I am losing brain cells..yikes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I can't believe how raw my fingertips are. Between the constant washing dishes, laundry, wet gloves from shoveling/playing in the snow, the&amp;nbsp;snow period, baby wipes, washing my hands, washing AJ's hands and face&amp;nbsp;my fingertips HURT! They're cracking all over the place and they are dry, dry, dry! I wonder if YaYa still has the hand wax kit I gave her years ago ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;I don't like playing dollies with Seena. There I said it. Anything else, no problem. I can color, do puzzles, play games, play restaurant, etc....but just nothing to do with playing house, caring for babies, going to school...I do that stuff all day everyday..I don't want to play it too. And that's all she wants to do. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;The other favorite past time of Seena's is throwing&amp;nbsp;parties. The other day she threw a "restaurant party" for G going back to work at a restaurant. This I enjoy doing ;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;AJ is just AJ. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Teen and I's relationship has gotten better and better by the day. I think we both can say now that we actually do enjoy each other's company and mean it :) I had hoped this would happen once she reached high school and I'm quite pleased with how things are going. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;For more Friday Night Leftovers please visit our host &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Sippy Cups&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6759178905635648004?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6759178905635648004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6759178905635648004' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6759178905635648004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6759178905635648004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/friday-night-leftovers.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IrVgDwSFI/AAAAAAAAAUY/PX7C-bzQmdg/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1885104818460436393</id><published>2010-02-11T14:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T14:30:00.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Choo-Choo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Major crazy snow storm&amp;nbsp;resulting in&amp;nbsp;2 feet ++ of accumulated snow....$1,234,567 county clean up dollars&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IaV1Le8JI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4DRwGngg8B8/s1600-h/DSC06605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IaV1Le8JI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4DRwGngg8B8/s320/DSC06605.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Yard sale find - $2.00&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3Iaq8OY8DI/AAAAAAAAAUI/zKb84Cppqjg/s1600-h/DSC06617.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3Iaq8OY8DI/AAAAAAAAAUI/zKb84Cppqjg/s320/DSC06617.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Borrowed sleigh - $0.00&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IcGzrbrAI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/RF_Gj4aZD04/s1600-h/DSC06616.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IcGzrbrAI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/RF_Gj4aZD04/s320/DSC06616.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Snow Choo-Choo - priceless&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IYwrJQJuI/AAAAAAAAAT4/hrEX5Wvimzs/s1600-h/DSC_0086.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IYwrJQJuI/AAAAAAAAAT4/hrEX5Wvimzs/s320/DSC_0086.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For everything else there is hot chocolate and warm cookies :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1885104818460436393?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1885104818460436393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1885104818460436393' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1885104818460436393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1885104818460436393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-choo-choo.html' title='Snow Choo-Choo'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IaV1Le8JI/AAAAAAAAAUA/4DRwGngg8B8/s72-c/DSC06605.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8051490184834421294</id><published>2010-02-10T14:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T14:30:01.022-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;After being trapped home with my kids due to the mountains of snow outside our home, my kids have sucked the life out of my brain therefore we have wordless Wednesday today....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IQanm4slI/AAAAAAAAATw/EN__jpQtb28/s1600-h/DSC06628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IQanm4slI/AAAAAAAAATw/EN__jpQtb28/s320/DSC06628.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8051490184834421294?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8051490184834421294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8051490184834421294' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8051490184834421294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8051490184834421294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S3IQanm4slI/AAAAAAAAATw/EN__jpQtb28/s72-c/DSC06628.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5527339249637625589</id><published>2010-02-09T21:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T21:06:18.925-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena's To Do List</title><content type='html'>Today I told Seena I wanted her to practice her reading while I was at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her response, "No mommy, I'm sorry, I can't. I have too much stuff to do today." She then proceeded to make her list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Seena's To Do List&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (see if you can figure these out....answers below)&lt;br /&gt;1. bfers&lt;br /&gt;2. TV (ok that was easy)&lt;br /&gt;3. Lug&lt;br /&gt;4. nap&lt;br /&gt;5. Plaei&lt;br /&gt;6. Mve&lt;br /&gt;7. Piup&lt;br /&gt;8. dranr&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the answers are......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. bfers = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;breakfast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. TV = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. lug = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;lunch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. nap = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;nap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Plaei = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;play&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Mve = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;movie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Piup = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;pick up AJ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. dranr = &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;dinner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;aaah, if only that was my to do list :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5527339249637625589?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5527339249637625589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5527339249637625589' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5527339249637625589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5527339249637625589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/seenas-to-do-list.html' title='Seena&apos;s To Do List'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-224508188090862084</id><published>2010-02-06T18:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-06T18:26:47.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Crazy</title><content type='html'>Earlier today I thought I was going to go crazy...literally. This past week has been so busy with work(s), school being out&amp;nbsp;and having to do everything alone has taken a toll on me. I love working from home but when school is out for something other than a holiday it is hard. Seena does not understand that even though she doesn't have school I still have work to do. It becomes very frustrating and very stressful. Things are made more difficult now because G is back to work on full-time++ restaurant hours. I've had no breaks from the kids, as much as I love them to pieces, I need a little a time for me...just a little.&amp;nbsp;Now that I've picked up running again this has turned into that time. My sanity needs the exercise as much as my waistline does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I&amp;nbsp;didn't run&amp;nbsp;at all. And now with this snowstorm all I saw was being trapped for another week. I knew that I should&amp;nbsp;have been&amp;nbsp;loving this time to be hanging out with my kids but all I could think of&amp;nbsp;was what could I do to distract them with something other than me??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But finally...the wind stopped blowing, the snow stopped coming down sideways&amp;nbsp;and I saw my break! I grabbed my shoes, grabbed my coat and I was out the door! I only took a short walk but it was just what I needed! The snow was beautiful but the quietness was better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S234qH9sRpI/AAAAAAAAATg/ZxGDeb05lE8/s1600-h/DSC06606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S234qH9sRpI/AAAAAAAAATg/ZxGDeb05lE8/s320/DSC06606.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And when I got back I was greeted by loving hugs from both my kids, which I quickly returned with bigger hugs and smooches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;These are the poor trees in my back yard...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S234QtjT_rI/AAAAAAAAATY/C8W90Cfj40Q/s1600-h/DSC06603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S234QtjT_rI/AAAAAAAAATY/C8W90Cfj40Q/s320/DSC06603.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;which are suppose to look like these.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S236eTjn_yI/AAAAAAAAATo/H9Lje12h0SQ/s1600-h/DSC06599.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S236eTjn_yI/AAAAAAAAATo/H9Lje12h0SQ/s320/DSC06599.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-224508188090862084?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/224508188090862084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=224508188090862084' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/224508188090862084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/224508188090862084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-crazy.html' title='Snow Crazy'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S234qH9sRpI/AAAAAAAAATg/ZxGDeb05lE8/s72-c/DSC06606.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1712066330324470001</id><published>2010-02-04T23:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T22:41:48.408-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Sisters</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ufH1qja8I/AAAAAAAAAS4/53CYbGO3f08/s1600-h/430993665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ufH1qja8I/AAAAAAAAAS4/53CYbGO3f08/s200/430993665.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ufSb4gKTI/AAAAAAAAATA/yXTACFa_gi4/s1600-h/422519505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="151" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ufSb4gKTI/AAAAAAAAATA/yXTACFa_gi4/s200/422519505.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Seena and Teen are half-sisters. Since Seena could understand, we've always told her that Teen has a different mommy but the same daddy. She accepted the explanation just fine. I never thought more of it until last night when I picked her up from a &lt;strike&gt;babysitting&lt;/strike&gt; visit with Nana. Nana informed me that Seena was very upset and told Nana all about how Teen was not her sister and that they were only step-sisters, that I was not Teen's &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;real&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/em&gt;mommy and that Teen was moving out. Yes, most of the above is true but I've never told Seena Teen was NOT her sister and Teen is definitely not moving out so I was completely perplexed at the sudden revelation. My mom of course wasn't too pleased, she thought I was feeding my daughter false information&lt;insert eyebrow="" here="" raised=""&gt;. So on our drive back home I reassured Seena that Teen was very much her sister and that half and step did not matter. Of course, this led to a bunch of whys and whos and I don't get that...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for today's post, this will be a tribute to sisters and to show Seena how much they really are "real" sisters:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2udoqnl6ZI/AAAAAAAAASo/L4ZEskaSLUI/s1600-h/FAMILY.+070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2udoqnl6ZI/AAAAAAAAASo/L4ZEskaSLUI/s200/FAMILY.+070.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ue1vTDJ3I/AAAAAAAAASw/PWm-pjb_NgE/s1600-h/000_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ue1vTDJ3I/AAAAAAAAASw/PWm-pjb_NgE/s200/000_0014.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ucXRLyjAI/AAAAAAAAASg/jICVUu0JwYE/s1600-h/839941040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ucXRLyjAI/AAAAAAAAASg/jICVUu0JwYE/s200/839941040.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ub8QBMMCI/AAAAAAAAASY/wl3Tc_wgiIs/s1600-h/Family)+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ub8QBMMCI/AAAAAAAAASY/wl3Tc_wgiIs/s200/Family)+024.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ubpnYEBTI/AAAAAAAAASQ/it8_z28jWtE/s1600-h/april.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ubpnYEBTI/AAAAAAAAASQ/it8_z28jWtE/s200/april.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ubi5I-YjI/AAAAAAAAASI/41wpaw_X2uk/s1600-h/FAMILY.+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" kt="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ubi5I-YjI/AAAAAAAAASI/41wpaw_X2uk/s200/FAMILY.+010.jpg" width="150" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1712066330324470001?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1712066330324470001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1712066330324470001' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1712066330324470001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1712066330324470001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/real-sisters.html' title='Real Sisters'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2ufH1qja8I/AAAAAAAAAS4/53CYbGO3f08/s72-c/430993665.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3282455773639279502</id><published>2010-02-03T22:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T22:55:57.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Billy Bob in the House!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Finally after 3 1/2 years Seena's dead tooth has finally, &lt;strong&gt;finally&lt;/strong&gt; decided to come out. I thought for sure this tooth would be the first to go considering how badly it was&amp;nbsp;hit years ago. Back when&amp;nbsp;Seena was 2 she fell and hit her top gum right on the edge of a bookshelf. Yep, it looked as bad as you are probably imagining it. A chunk of her gum was missing. It was very gross and&amp;nbsp;disgusting and then her&amp;nbsp;tooth died.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;But, fortunately, no real damage was done and all we had to deal with was a gray dead tooth....front and center. &amp;nbsp;To be honest I was very much looking forward to the day that a new beautiful white tooth would replace the icky gray but I had no idea this little chomper was determined to stick around for as long as it could hold on to any last piece of stringy nerves, skin, gum...or whatever it is that keeps it there.....ICK!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;This is Ms. Seena with her teeth nicely aligned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2pAwPjM63I/AAAAAAAAASA/Tyag9vNI0LA/s1600-h/DSC06251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2pAwPjM63I/AAAAAAAAASA/Tyag9vNI0LA/s320/DSC06251.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This is her now with her own&amp;nbsp;set of Billy Bob teeth except hers are real. And yes, this is the same tooth that was up there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2o8y_-OkBI/AAAAAAAAARw/9QEBT94ghLU/s1600-h/DSC06568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2o8y_-OkBI/AAAAAAAAARw/9QEBT94ghLU/s320/DSC06568.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Like any other loose tooth and like every other kiddie, she likes to move it around and gross me out. Every time she opens her mouth and wiggles it I get the eeby geebies. And this is coming from the girl who wanted to be a forensic scientist. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2o79MIjS2I/AAAAAAAAARg/3476mDntN7U/s1600-h/DSC06575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2o79MIjS2I/AAAAAAAAARg/3476mDntN7U/s320/DSC06575.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This tooth is just unnatural. Look closely below....the thing just hangs wrong. It doesn't belong there...it needs to come out!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2nn9mgsOoI/AAAAAAAAARY/UfBx7O-YyEg/s1600-h/DSC06578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2nn9mgsOoI/AAAAAAAAARY/UfBx7O-YyEg/s320/DSC06578.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;And just to gross you out a bit more...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2nnre-9pKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/PozYNu1Y8Q8/s1600-h/DSC06582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" kt="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2nnre-9pKI/AAAAAAAAARQ/PozYNu1Y8Q8/s320/DSC06582.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;Not that I wanted to share a picture of Seena's nostrils but I just wanted to show how much this darn tooth is hanging on. It has literally been pushed completely over and the new tooth behind it is almost half-way out. I mean, come on! Enough already. It's time to let go. It's time to say goodbye to all of the other tootheds (Seena vocab for teeth) and say hello to the Tooth Fairy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3282455773639279502?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3282455773639279502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3282455773639279502' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3282455773639279502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3282455773639279502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/02/billy-bob-in-house.html' title='Billy Bob in the House!'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2pAwPjM63I/AAAAAAAAASA/Tyag9vNI0LA/s72-c/DSC06251.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1718890238925794759</id><published>2010-01-29T19:07:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-30T10:32:22.111-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2RJETHDlLI/AAAAAAAAARA/-IUbQci4l5Y/s1600-h/leftoversbutton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 111px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5432547388713833650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2RJETHDlLI/AAAAAAAAARA/-IUbQci4l5Y/s320/leftoversbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;AJ is a fighter....I don't know if it's because he's a boy or if it's because of Seena's new interest in "karate". Both of them have not stop "karate" matches. Even this morning AJ was already trying to wrestle me to the ground. At Tae Kwon Do class last week AJ was mimicking, as best he could, all of the moves Seena was doing. And now, to add to my anxiety over this, AJ's daycare teacher pointed out to me that AJ was throwing some punches in class. Great! The minute we get extra $$ or better yet, I might just sacrifice some grocery money to get this boy into some kind of sport or activity to let out some of his aggression!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's no secret that I like to eat...I love food. I've always been a healthy eater but nonetheless, I like to eat. So, having to now "watch" what I eat because I'm older totally sucks. I nearly had a heart attack when I went to my yearly doc appt and realized I gain 7 pounds since last year. I was so convinced that something had to be wrong that I made them take my blood for a thyroid test. Of course it was normal. Whatever. My weight can bite me. Anyway, because I love food so much I don't like to share it. Not even with my kids. I know, call me selfish :) It is what it is. Lately, I've been indulging myself with delicious vegetable chili from Harris Teeter every Friday. My son apparently likes it too and literally follows me around the house asking for bites because I don't want to share it :) I suppose I will now have to buy two bowls next time...mmm, I can't wait :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Even with my new crazy hectic schedule I've managed to keep the house orderly for the whole week and then Friday happened. It's like a train wreck came into my house....what happened!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;For more Friday Night Leftover please visit our host &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danifred&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1718890238925794759?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1718890238925794759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1718890238925794759' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1718890238925794759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1718890238925794759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/friday-night-leftovers_29.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2RJETHDlLI/AAAAAAAAARA/-IUbQci4l5Y/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3518443326415820300</id><published>2010-01-28T21:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:54:36.409-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Rest My Case</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2JMPRqYeFI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/4BJjGVRlxFU/s1600-h/DSC06558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5431987925885155410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2JMPRqYeFI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/4BJjGVRlxFU/s320/DSC06558.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a picture of AJ taken today at 5:30pm. We got home from daycare at 5:28pm. I would also like to point out the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~AJ is still in his coat and hat&lt;br /&gt;~This stool is our compromise for "eating" in the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;~I am being completely ignored over Hannah Montana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3518443326415820300?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3518443326415820300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3518443326415820300' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3518443326415820300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3518443326415820300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/rest-my-case.html' title='Rest My Case'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S2JMPRqYeFI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/4BJjGVRlxFU/s72-c/DSC06558.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-9203362862685855365</id><published>2010-01-27T21:43:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T22:20:20.429-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Discipline</title><content type='html'>I would like to know who out there has the magic discipline trick for toddlers? Or better yet, a 2-year old boy? Again, as I've said a million times, AJ is a whole new bag of tricks. Seena just didn't give me this much work when it came to disciplining. With Seena I did the timeouts and the occasional spanking but now I seem to be quite effective with a Strike 3 policy. It's keeping me from arguing with her (some of the time) and hopefully teaching her that talking back, screaming and throwing tantrums are simply not tolerated. Period. If she does any of these she gets a warning and then the strikes begin. She gets to 3 strikes and she loses TV time or a playdate. It's been pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, obviously, this does not work with my little man. He could careless if he got 1 strike or 500. I can't send him to his room. The boy loves the word no and has gotten quite stubborn. There really is no disciplining other than a 20 count bear-hug time-out. I'm convinced he knows how to count to 20 now because he quiets down right when I get around 17 or 18. By the way we're going he'll be the class genius and be able to count to 100!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To reiterate my difficulties I did a spontaneous experiment the other day. During one of the ever increasing fights between Seena and AJ, AJ hit/bit/scratched/slapped (any, and or all of the above) Seena. Instead of my usual timeout I spontaneously decided to slap my son's hand. Not hard...just a little slap. He laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did it again, this time a little harder. He laughed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more time....a little harder....the little fart laughed again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See!!! What is this all about???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, please tell me what I'm suppose to do with this? Do they have military school for 2 year olds?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Note....I do say all of this in good fun. These naughty actions are also coming from the boy who won't go to bed unless he's snuggled next to me and rubbing my face ;)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-9203362862685855365?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/9203362862685855365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=9203362862685855365' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9203362862685855365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9203362862685855365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/discipline.html' title='Discipline'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8914846141237421191</id><published>2010-01-24T21:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T22:12:00.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To The Extreme</title><content type='html'>When it comes to scolding Seena or warning her of possible consequences for her actions, I resort to going to the extreme. I don't know why. My sister does it too. We share stories and laugh about it. I know it's wrong...or is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe in the beginning I thought it would scare her enough that she would never do the "behavior" again or maybe I just wanted to see how creative I could get. Who knows. Either way it doesn't seem to have any effect on Seena. I guess she's figured out my bluff ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had 2 such scenarios...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Scenario 1&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While at Target she asked if she could sit on the edge of the cart. I told her no and of course this was immediately met by a "but why?". My response, "no because you could fall and you'll split your head open. Then your brains will spill all over the floor and people will start slipping on it. Do you want that? Do you want people slipping on your brains?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her response, "well, does that mean I'll start talking like this...jifes fiojof fifs fiosrsa?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Scenario 2&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While brushing her teeth this evening she began running around the house with the toothbrush still in her mouth. My response, "stop running around. If you fall, the toothbrush will go straight through the back of your throat and you'll have a huge hole there. And everytime you eat or drink the food will go out that hole."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her response - she just gave her best 5 year old eye roll and kept brushing her teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least she stopped running :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8914846141237421191?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8914846141237421191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8914846141237421191' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8914846141237421191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8914846141237421191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/to-extreme.html' title='To The Extreme'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7287758515880369271</id><published>2010-01-23T22:35:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T23:01:56.553-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Child Labor</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I mentioned blogging about a recent decision I would have to make but I've decided it's not necessary. My decision revolves around having to decide to take on another part-time job. A real one, not a contract job that only requires a few hours here and there. This will be a real PT job. Luckily though, it's still very flexible and pre-care will not be necessary. Anyway, as I said, blogging about it is not necessary. Deep down I know the decision I will make. Without getting into all of our private family details and even with G starting his new job, I will need to take this on, at least for a little awhile. If all goes well and as we hope, this will just be a temporary thing. But such is life and as such, it must be done. As my fellow blogger and dear friend &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danifred&lt;/a&gt; put it, "Column A just does not equal Column B". It's just that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, since my life will now involve me having:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. having full-time job&lt;br /&gt;2. being a full-time mom&lt;br /&gt;3. having part-time job(s)&lt;br /&gt;4. volunteering at school and Girl Scouts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did what any good manager would do. I pooled my resources and I delegated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vA0wPcNVI/AAAAAAAAAQw/ZOCf6M9Yxbg/s1600-h/DSC06541.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430145788260660562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vA0wPcNVI/AAAAAAAAAQw/ZOCf6M9Yxbg/s320/DSC06541.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vA0uUoYcI/AAAAAAAAAQo/WD3hmbj0AvQ/s1600-h/DSC06543.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430145787745558978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vA0uUoYcI/AAAAAAAAAQo/WD3hmbj0AvQ/s320/DSC06543.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vAm6TjNXI/AAAAAAAAAQg/3SITamKyiLU/s1600-h/DSC06544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430145550444082546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vAm6TjNXI/AAAAAAAAAQg/3SITamKyiLU/s320/DSC06544.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vAmshdo3I/AAAAAAAAAQY/Fifqbl9AV08/s1600-h/DSC06546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430145546744341362" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vAmshdo3I/AAAAAAAAAQY/Fifqbl9AV08/s320/DSC06546.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This last picture is what eventually came out of the cleaning cabinet. Apparently AJ was not satisfied with just one brand....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vAmRy-soI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/v4JdqC7YyPs/s1600-h/DSC06552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430145539570053762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vAmRy-soI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/v4JdqC7YyPs/s320/DSC06552.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And if your wondering who has so many cleaning products the answer would be....we do! We do because G likes to buy cleaning products. He's determined to find the "best one". Meanwhile, my collection grows and grows and grows.... ;)&lt;br /&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/2389955483407063675-7287758515880369271?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7287758515880369271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7287758515880369271' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7287758515880369271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7287758515880369271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/child-labor.html' title='Child Labor'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1vA0wPcNVI/AAAAAAAAAQw/ZOCf6M9Yxbg/s72-c/DSC06541.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-9222303229696889447</id><published>2010-01-22T18:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T09:18:42.808-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1o13RAM4lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/5O0hrNdwy5w/s1600-h/leftoversbutton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 111px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429711524321878610" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1o13RAM4lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/5O0hrNdwy5w/s320/leftoversbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;cannot figure out how "dedai" means pizza. No matter how I try to sound it out, I just can't. But for AJ, "dedai" is pizza.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;as much as I dislike seeing my kids grow up (too quickly) I am very much looking forward to the day that I don't have sticky, crusty, crumbly chairs, tables or floors.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm starting to rethink that perhaps dance may not have been the best choice for Seena. Gymnastics seems to be more up her alley. The girl has already taught herself how to do a cartwheel and almost a round-off. And she swears she already knows karate. She was showing off her "moves" last night. I am actually quite thrilled about this as I really do want to put her in some sort of karate class.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;it's no big secret that I dislike my "job" and I do look for other work from time to time, but when I see my kids wake up at their leisure during the week, the thought of going back to a regular 8-5 office job is unimaginable. Seena doesn't have to be at school until 8:50. I can't imagine having to wake her up at 5 or 6 in the morning to have to go to pre-care. She already has problems waking up at 7:30!! So, for this I consider myself very lucky and pray that this does not change for a very long time. Really, I'm serious. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;G says I nag too much. I've decided that that his fault. He shouldn't give me anything to nag about :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As I'm writing this, an opportunity just presented itself that I now have to think about. I will probably blog about it too as I think I may be stepping on the edge of over doing it. Or it could just be what it is...another opportunity to get back on track....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;For more Friday Night Leftover please visit our host &lt;a href="http://www.sippycupsarenotforstarbucks.blogspot.com/"&gt;Danifred&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-9222303229696889447?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/9222303229696889447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=9222303229696889447' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9222303229696889447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9222303229696889447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/friday-night-leftovers.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1o13RAM4lI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/5O0hrNdwy5w/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6929868645006970540</id><published>2010-01-21T23:04:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T00:00:08.945-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Travieso AJ and the Terrible Twos</title><content type='html'>I recently heard that the Terrible Two’s does not necessarily refer to the birth year 2 but to a span of “2” years. And this span can be anytime, 2-4, 3-5, etc. I find this particularly interesting at the moment because I was just telling a friend that Seena was wonderful at 2. I loved her at 2. She definitely had her moments of course, but for the most part she was sweet and loving. Once she hit 3 ½ to probably around 5, she was a nightmare. Ok, maybe I exaggerate a bit but she was &lt;em&gt;terrible&lt;/em&gt;. So she fits the “2” year span. AJ on the other hand, is a TERRIBLE TWO. He is travieso. The boy never stops. He never stops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eating&lt;br /&gt;climbing&lt;br /&gt;running&lt;br /&gt;eating&lt;br /&gt;climbing&lt;br /&gt;getting into EVERYTHING&lt;br /&gt;being travieso&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know this is typical 2 year old stuff but seriously, Seena was not like this. She liked to snack but my son doesn't snack...I don't know what he does for that matter. He just eats. And when I say the boy never stops eating, I mean it. He never stops. From the moment he walks in the door from daycare he heads straight for the pantry and if that door is closed, he's pulling the closest chair to a counter that has any food on it. I've resorted to hiding all fruit bowls, food bowls and cookie jars in the highest cabinets. And forget it if YOU want to eat, he takes that too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if, he gets lucky and gets a hold of some food that he's not suppose to have...he crushes whatever item he has in his kung-fu-like grip. I literally have to pry his fingers open meanwhile the food item is spewing through his fingers and all over everywhere. This is usually when the cursing occurs because the crushing of food is never in a convenient place like the kitchen. It's always in the family room or my favorite, the couch. &lt;strong&gt;AND&lt;/strong&gt; the little booger knows he's being &lt;em&gt;travieso&lt;/em&gt; because he runs like a speed of lighting as soon as I notice his sneaky foodnapping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Travieso&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Spanish word &lt;em&gt;travieso&lt;/em&gt; translated into English is "naughty" or "trouble maker". This is what I call my son on a daily basis, however, he's not necessarily "naughty", he's just such a boy. &lt;em&gt;And&lt;/em&gt; he's two. He's a 2 year old, boy, trouble maker. Not a fun combo. Which, I might add, has definitely added a few greys to my hair and has had me say one too many curse words under by breath. He even has a &lt;em&gt;travieso&lt;/em&gt; look. If I can catch it on camera I will. It's a look that oooozes with &lt;em&gt;traviesoness&lt;/em&gt;. His brows come down, his lips are pursed, his legs are spread and he does a little bouncy dance thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like some sort of tribal, warrior, battle dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's travieso, I'm telling you. He's going to be the kid that's going to end up in the emergency room a lot because of some &lt;em&gt;traviesoness &lt;/em&gt;he got himself into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyday when I look at him or I observe his mannerisms, all I can say is that he is just such a &lt;strong&gt;boy&lt;/strong&gt;. Girls just don't do the things he does. What makes it all bearable is that he's just so darn cute. But still, travieso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point - this evening he entertained himself with surfing on puzzle boards. He first, laid them out on the kitchen floor. He would then get a running start from across the family room and then jump on the puzzle boards and "surf". Obviously, he didn't get very far and most of his attempts landed him on his butt, but he didn't care. He just got up and did it again. Such a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone remember the movie Parenthood? Remember Steve Martin's son that runs around with a pail on his head? That's my boy. &lt;em&gt;Travieso.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429421445003198866" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1kuCbVNwZI/AAAAAAAAAPI/zp4F3qgIWLQ/s320/19633_1301924660929_1014811252_942447_1485901_n.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6929868645006970540?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6929868645006970540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6929868645006970540' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6929868645006970540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6929868645006970540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/travieso-aj-and-terrible-twos.html' title='Travieso AJ and the Terrible Twos'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1kuCbVNwZI/AAAAAAAAAPI/zp4F3qgIWLQ/s72-c/19633_1301924660929_1014811252_942447_1485901_n.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6123303135626283684</id><published>2010-01-19T23:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T23:52:25.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs Hungry for Chick-Fil-A</title><content type='html'>G retold a very cute and funny story he exchanged with Seena on their way home from school today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G was telling Seena how he was driving by the Target and noticed a poodle trying to cross the road. The poor dog was scared and was trying to dodge traffic. Seena familiar with this particular area responded to G by saying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"maybe the dog was hungry and was trying to get to Chick-Fil-A"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6123303135626283684?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6123303135626283684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6123303135626283684' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6123303135626283684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6123303135626283684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/dogs-hungry-for-chick-fil.html' title='Dogs Hungry for Chick-Fil-A'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3601717855227472238</id><published>2010-01-18T09:50:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T10:33:56.162-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paul the Puppy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;I have to admit that I am very embarrassed that is has taken me this long to include an entry about Paul the Puppy, especially since he's really been like another member of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena found Paul the Puppy when she was 2 at Ya Ya's house. From the moment she saw him she was immediately attached. For about a year the poor little guy did not have a name. He was just "puppy". It was my husband's lovely name-naming skills that gave the "puppy" the name "Paul the Puppy". And it's never just "Paul", it's always "Paul the Puppy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until this last Christmas Paul the Puppy (PtP) has been attached to Seena, practically at the hip. PtP accompanied Seena to daycare everyday until she was in the 4's. And the only reason we got her to stop bringing PtP to daycare was because one day we forgot him there and he spent a very cold and lonely night by himself. Seena was devastated but it helped us convince her that it was best that he stay home. For awhile PtP would accompany us in the car to daycare but I was given very strict instructions that when I went to work PtP was NOT to remain in the car by himself and that I had to take him into work with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that period was over, thankfully, and since PtP got some new friends, the following was the new daily arrangements:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428097527589066402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R58SofVqI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ejDx8Femthg/s320/FAMILY.+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This HAD to be done before we left for daycare, period. It did not matter if we were running late, this HAD to be done. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;PtP has been loved and adored by Seena, she has even thrown him a birthday party....with bone shaped invitations and a real cake: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Guest list: PtP, Marie the Cat (AKA mea), Dot (AJ's version of PtP AKA wa), Tinkerbell, Ariel and Jasmine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428093227329302770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R2B-6qsPI/AAAAAAAAAOY/k9wRBwyUuX8/s320/DSC05943.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Paul the Puppy turns 5!&lt;/em&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428093222685492082" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R2Btnfw3I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/4PrQFTT2jpk/s320/DSC05965.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Party time!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428093784432117586" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R2iaSVB1I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Gjob0sYPU-M/s320/DSC05968.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know the day of PtP is coming to an end soon. For Christmas this year Santa brought Seena a new "Best Friend". &lt;strong&gt;I&lt;/strong&gt; named her Elena. She has become the new PtP, although, PtP is still not out of the picture completely. Instead of tucking in PtP every morning, Seena is now getting Elena dressed for school, packing her lunch and getting her backpack ready. Just this past weekend Seena wanted to teach Elena the ABC's. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428102261022199666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R-P0C5D3I/AAAAAAAAAPA/wzByE3kQF8Q/s320/DSC06485.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am sad about PtP but I know his days are not over yet, especially when the other little man of the family is becoming quite attached.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428093237527600994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R2Ck6IX2I/AAAAAAAAAOo/jIeB-t4-XV0/s320/AJ+and+paul+the+puppy.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3601717855227472238?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3601717855227472238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3601717855227472238' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3601717855227472238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3601717855227472238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/paul-puppy.html' title='Paul the Puppy'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S1R58SofVqI/AAAAAAAAAO4/ejDx8Femthg/s72-c/FAMILY.+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-382514148868417291</id><published>2010-01-14T13:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T13:42:42.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mommy Needs to Pay Attention</title><content type='html'>I am sorry to say that yes, sometimes, I tune out the constant yabbering from my sweet 5 year old. Unless she's watching TV, the girl never stops talking. Sometimes what she says makes sense, sometimes it totally doesn't and most of the time something very funny comes out of it. I'm not saying this in any bad way, I'm just saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Case in point...the other day as I was enjoying a few minutes of cuddle time with Seena on the couch before I went to pick-up crazy, non-stop toddler from daycare, Seena was in full force with stories of her day. In my defense, this was also the first time I had a minute to relax and get off my feet so I will admit that I zoned out a bit. I did hear bits and pieces of "the fair man" and he got killed. The killed part is what caught my attention and I asked her to repeat her story. I zoned out again. I'm horrible, I know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, during dinner, Seena began with another recollection of her day. Again, not 100% there but the words "black", "bus" and "arrested" caught my attention. See, I was listening.... But as soon as I heard those words the whole thing clicked....just like that. I said, "oh, you're talking about Rosa Parks and earlier you were trying to tell me about Martin Luther King, Jr." Seena's exasperated response (with hands out to the side) Yes! He was the fair man because he was trying to make everything FAIR!" She was absolutely delighted that I "understood" and that she could tell me such an important historical fact. She even asked how I already knew and if I watched the same movie on the "smartboard". I refrained from responding with my usual response of "mommy, knows everything" and told her that I learned that in school too but not from Ms. W.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note...I was accused yesterday of NOT being like the Fair Man because I was not being fair with the splitting of candy between her and crazy, I want to eat everything all of the time toddler, AKA AJ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, apparently I need to pay more attention AND learned to be more fair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-382514148868417291?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/382514148868417291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=382514148868417291' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/382514148868417291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/382514148868417291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/mommy-needs-to-pay-attention.html' title='Mommy Needs to Pay Attention'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3295787691480776934</id><published>2010-01-12T06:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-12T07:06:13.819-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite "Quotes"</title><content type='html'>Just a few favorite "quotes" that have been heard around the house lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena - in noticing that half of her lunch is coming home uneaten I asked her why? Her explanation is that she didn't have enough time so naturally I packed a little less. Still, lunch comes home half eaten. I ask again, this time I'm more specific, "why are you running out of time", her response, "well, mom, I like to talk you know".  Ahh, another social butterfly in the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ's response to me after telling him to finish his rice - "no rie". Plus any gibberish he says, really. As of yesterday, he started adding the "c" when asked to repeat "no rice"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - "these are not my Khaki's" as he proceeds to pull up and wear khaki maternity overalls for our viewing pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teen - in the midst of ex best-friend drama, Teen's response to ex BFF A being "scared" to go to school because of Teen "bullying" her - "Why in the world would she be afraid of me, first of all, I don't know how to fight".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for me, I don't have any favorites but a day doesn't go by where I haven't mixed up some word, or phrase and even lately I'm now mixing up the dog's name with AJ's name.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3295787691480776934?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3295787691480776934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3295787691480776934' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3295787691480776934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3295787691480776934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/favorite-quotes.html' title='Favorite &quot;Quotes&quot;'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6608491343582417292</id><published>2010-01-08T21:23:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T22:01:11.032-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Curls Be Gone :(</title><content type='html'>I knew it was going to happen, it happened to Teen...but I was really, really, really, REALLY, hoping Seena would not follow suit. At the age of 5 Teen lost her curls and sure enough so has Seena. Booooohhoooooo....I'm devastated.....heartbroken....they were sooo pretty. Do you think 5 is too young for a perm? Ha! Just kidding....not really...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a little stroll down memory lane....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Seena - 2 years old sporting the Carrie Bradshaw look&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ft3rwtPnI/AAAAAAAAAOA/1XxKepi2caw/s1600-h/Christina+in+heels.jpg"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424565817086656114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ft3rwtPnI/AAAAAAAAAOA/1XxKepi2caw/s320/Christina+in+heels.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seena on her 2nd birthday&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424565806472438226" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ft3EOFIdI/AAAAAAAAANw/6oJ8pZWsLic/s320/426376319.jpg" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Halloween 2007 - Seena 3 years old - look at those curls!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424565496519784274" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ftlBjm91I/AAAAAAAAANo/b8-JpHNszxs/s320/Halloween+07_0005.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;March 2008&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424565491492620530" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ftku1CiPI/AAAAAAAAANg/Nw_fwchtE4E/s320/284534453209_0_ALB5.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;October 2&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;009&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;- and just like that....&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 315px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 285px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424568260782850994" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0fwF7PSA7I/AAAAAAAAAOI/Jhou79FHEqU/s320/Christina+gap.JPG" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;the curls be gone.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ftkSKPvPI/AAAAAAAAANY/pEis7PJD1dY/s1600-h/cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5424565483796937970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ftkSKPvPI/AAAAAAAAANY/pEis7PJD1dY/s320/cookies.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just a winter thing and we'll get some surprise curls this summer. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hey, a girl can always dream!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6608491343582417292?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6608491343582417292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6608491343582417292' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6608491343582417292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6608491343582417292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/curls-be-gone.html' title='Curls Be Gone :('/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0ft3rwtPnI/AAAAAAAAAOA/1XxKepi2caw/s72-c/Christina+in+heels.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7591683011647414648</id><published>2010-01-07T13:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T13:12:40.530-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Morning?</title><content type='html'>At 5:45am AJ woke up crying. Nothing unusual except for the fact that just last week he was waking up everyday after 8---what's up with that buddy???, anyway I went into his room to settle him down with our usual snugglefest. And as I crawled into his bed, instead of getting the usual "mommy I'm so glad you're here hug" I got a nice hard slap on the shoulder. WTH? Bad dream buddy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the rest of the morning was not such a good morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7591683011647414648?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7591683011647414648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7591683011647414648' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7591683011647414648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7591683011647414648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/good-morning.html' title='Good Morning?'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2435685571070472117</id><published>2010-01-06T22:33:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T23:09:32.041-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowy Day Recap</title><content type='html'>In between sleeping in until 8 every morning (totally blissful and totally missed), working 1 of my 5 jobs (including normal FT job) that I pimped myself out for for some extra cash, eating, not working out and then making like a mad crazy woman to be ready for Christmas, I had some time to take some pictures but no time to post them :) Maybe I'll get my Christmas photos up before Valentines - yeah!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Blizzard of 2009 wasn't the first time AJ saw snow but it was the first time he had fun in it! Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, Seena was not feeling well the day of the blizzard so I was spared the "duty" of having to play outside. AJ of course was perfectly content staying out there....he even was set to help shovel the snow :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Vcfs9-DII/AAAAAAAAAMo/miW9ZEdzhVg/s1600-h/DSC06420.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423843025954409602" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Vcfs9-DII/AAAAAAAAAMo/miW9ZEdzhVg/s320/DSC06420.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcflJ8QyI/AAAAAAAAAMg/DwaRND6BWl4/s1600-h/DSC06421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423843023857140514" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcflJ8QyI/AAAAAAAAAMg/DwaRND6BWl4/s320/DSC06421.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Settling in with a nice warm cup of hot chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcffzRuII/AAAAAAAAAMY/wLgxSO7EIh4/s1600-h/DSC06427.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423843022419900546" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcffzRuII/AAAAAAAAAMY/wLgxSO7EIh4/s320/DSC06427.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day however, it was full of sunshine both in the sky and on the faces of my snow bunnies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcKvrKRII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/X1zr2a4nQ3Y/s1600-h/DSC06437.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842665903572098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcKvrKRII/AAAAAAAAAMQ/X1zr2a4nQ3Y/s320/DSC06437.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snowman building in progress...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcKWJbFdI/AAAAAAAAAMI/fPO6u3nkUZ0/s1600-h/DSC06449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842659051181522" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcKWJbFdI/AAAAAAAAAMI/fPO6u3nkUZ0/s320/DSC06449.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcJlWtxRI/AAAAAAAAAMA/g5_1BLjeGFs/s1600-h/DSC06453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842645953594642" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcJlWtxRI/AAAAAAAAAMA/g5_1BLjeGFs/s320/DSC06453.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The happiest two on the block :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcJmaqcjI/AAAAAAAAAL4/v84lEKLEX74/s1600-h/DSC06454.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842646238589490" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VcJmaqcjI/AAAAAAAAAL4/v84lEKLEX74/s320/DSC06454.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Contemplating whether sledding down alone was an adventure he was ready to take on his own....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VbrzQfJfI/AAAAAAAAALw/Dpuysylcdk8/s1600-h/DSC06462.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842134289491442" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VbrzQfJfI/AAAAAAAAALw/Dpuysylcdk8/s320/DSC06462.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Vbr99QrlI/AAAAAAAAALo/FDWAaqQvd_E/s1600-h/DSC06464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842137161641554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Vbr99QrlI/AAAAAAAAALo/FDWAaqQvd_E/s320/DSC06464.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pure joy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VbrgoD-PI/AAAAAAAAALg/_FLRX6GbueQ/s1600-h/DSC06468.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842129288100082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VbrgoD-PI/AAAAAAAAALg/_FLRX6GbueQ/s320/DSC06468.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VbrKtD67I/AAAAAAAAALY/GlAQxS-vdyA/s1600-h/DSC06472.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423842123403488178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0VbrKtD67I/AAAAAAAAALY/GlAQxS-vdyA/s320/DSC06472.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2435685571070472117?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2435685571070472117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2435685571070472117' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2435685571070472117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2435685571070472117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/snowy-day-recap.html' title='Snowy Day Recap'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Vcfs9-DII/AAAAAAAAAMo/miW9ZEdzhVg/s72-c/DSC06420.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6466884681415850580</id><published>2010-01-04T17:09:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T15:19:58.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>AJ Turns 2!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;My little boy turned two yesterday!!! My cute little snugglebug turned two....too fast...too fast!&lt;br /&gt;Some fun, cute, loving tidbits of my darling boy:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;still loves music; loves toys and books that make sounds and have music. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;loves to dance, clap his hands and stomp his feet to the beat &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;still loves to snuggle with mommy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;loves to have his pictures taken, although you would not think so from the pictures of him at his party.. Anyway, he can often be found carrying around my camera and saying “cheese”! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;G has taught him how to “fight”. As bad as it probably is, the boy is too darn cute when he   holds up his fists and puts on a tough look. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teen has taught AJ a gesture that involves making the “fish face” and a pointed finger. It is a  random act that comes out of nowhere and it is incredibly funny. It’s the perfect “Yeah, you” look. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AJ loves to play with Seena. He copies everything she does and follows her everywhere. They certainly have their fighting moments but most of the time they play very well together. I especially love it when he follows Seena around carrying “his” baby. Even the many trucks he got for Christmas hasn’t changed that, in fact, I think he’s got 2 babies that he’s carrying around now. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;His 2 year Well Appt. isn’t for another 2 weeks but I’m anxious to find out how well he is developing n his vocabulary. AJ is well over 50 words now but most are not the correct way of saying things. I forget if this is normal but G seems to think that Seena was already forming “clear” words by the time she was 2 as oppose to some form of the word. I’m not concerned but I would like to put this questioning to rest. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AJ is still into veggies more than any meat but is starting to be a little more “selective” than I would like. He does really like water and drinks a lot of it. My favorite new “thing” he does is taking 2 cups to the water filter and filling them both up to his liking and drinking from only of them. He does it every time. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My son has a very interesting reaction to pain. Obviously he cries and screams but he gets angry about it. His fists ball up and it’s almost like he wants to either fight or he’s mad that he’s in pain.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Aside from all that AJ is exactly what a 2 year old should be – active, all over the place, laughing, singing, climbing, getting into everything and being stubborn. The boy understand what no means because he’s not shy about saying no but hearing it doesn’t phase him a bit. No to AJ means something is funny. He laughs every time and it doesn’t matter if you say it in a normal voice or yell it, he still laughs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For AJ’s birthday I finally decided to have a farm themed party for no particular reason other than I really love the animal noises he makes when we ask him what cows, horses, dogs and cats say. My favorites are the "ehhhh" for horse and "mea" for cat. "wha wha" for dog is pretty cute too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Seena helping out with the cake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423348745555281026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa8y_iBII/AAAAAAAAAKg/D-KdyBQDPZA/s320/DSC06487.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Cake in progress, AJ sneaking in a photo moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423350928594982178" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oc73cwVSI/AAAAAAAAALQ/k0xv94dkmVU/s320/DSC06490.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Finished cake, AJ's farm yard.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423350842626778802" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oc23MVprI/AAAAAAAAALI/rTi80iCn5wI/s320/DSC06491.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A little Just Dance entertainment :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9zTfNnI/AAAAAAAAALA/ClF6q4Z-wF8/s1600-h/DSC06494.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423348762818852466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9zTfNnI/AAAAAAAAALA/ClF6q4Z-wF8/s320/DSC06494.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My camera taking crappy photos....AJ blowing out his candle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9rscoOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/Rq6GlB2zyUI/s1600-h/DSC06505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423348760776057058" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9rscoOI/AAAAAAAAAK4/Rq6GlB2zyUI/s320/DSC06505.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ enjoying his cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9UvXzzI/AAAAAAAAAKw/4x2jpxnPEZo/s1600-h/DSC06512.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423348754614308658" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9UvXzzI/AAAAAAAAAKw/4x2jpxnPEZo/s320/DSC06512.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ totally got into opening his gifts!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9N9bSFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/Ay7o_F0gybg/s1600-h/DSC06514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423348752794208338" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa9N9bSFI/AAAAAAAAAKo/Ay7o_F0gybg/s320/DSC06514.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6466884681415850580?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6466884681415850580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6466884681415850580' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6466884681415850580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6466884681415850580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/aj-turns-2.html' title='AJ Turns 2!'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/S0Oa8y_iBII/AAAAAAAAAKg/D-KdyBQDPZA/s72-c/DSC06487.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-512734418397179331</id><published>2010-01-01T09:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T10:22:10.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Forward to the New Year</title><content type='html'>Last night as we sat and watched TV, you know waiting for the ball to drop, G asked me what I thought of 2009 and if I was happy to see it go.  I had to think about it for a moment. 2009 was tough --- very tough - but when I sat and thought about it, I realized it was not as bad for &lt;em&gt;ME&lt;/em&gt; as it was for G. For me I think 2008 was the worse. Besides AJ being born it was a yucky year. I can see it in the pictures I took, which were hardly any, and I just remember me being and feeling awful all of the time. I was angry, depressed and miserable. I hated that year. As for G with his unemployment for most of the year, his grieving over the loss of his restaurant, family issues with his brother, our financial struggles and lastly, the passing of his father, 2009 was his worse year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G and I do agree that 2009 was rough, mainly financially, but for me it was so much more peaceful than 2008. Coming out of 2008 I made a promise to myself that I would not dwell in the misery of what life brought to me on a particular day and I think I've done a pretty good job at sticking to it. I've reconnected with my Faith and it's been incredible. I live everyday in Faith and it keeps me strong and positive. Yes, things may look bleek at one given moment but there's something in me now that just knows things will be ok. It's very peaceful and it keeps me smiling every day.  I think I did a good job of "living in the moment" every day or at least most of the time. I definitely can see the difference in the pictures I took this year :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2009 was a year of an awakening and understanding but also a year of growth for me both spiritually and emotionally. I believe I was a better mother to my kids and a better wife to my husband. And although I am happy to say goodbye to 2009 and all of it's roughness, I am thankful for what it has helped me become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Years!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-512734418397179331?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/512734418397179331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=512734418397179331' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/512734418397179331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/512734418397179331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2010/01/looking-forward-to-new-year.html' title='Looking Forward to the New Year'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6341350160079063392</id><published>2009-12-27T22:53:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T23:15:26.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cloud Nine</title><content type='html'>Cloud nine....this is where I've been floating around ever since I got the surprise job opportunity. Don't get me wrong...it was hectic between trying to play catch up from being snowed in, having double workloads and literally doing last minute Christmas shopping....but I was on cloud nine the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a GREAT Christmas. The kids got a perfect Christmas...and not just in gifts. In every which way. Even G and I had fun with our little Christmas budget we had for each other. As I'm sure many parents agree, the real gifts are seeing your kids so happy. As G and I laid in bed Christmas Eve we both talked about how excited we were about Seena opening up her presents. AJ is still too young to understand but we figured he would enjoy the simple act of just opening presents (which he did!). Even Teen, with her simple wish list of gift cards, was going to be surprised with her gifts under the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how else to say it but it really was a great Christmas. Nothing bothered me. Not the crazy lines, not the late night wrapping gifts, not the traffic, not the out-of-the-way shopping trips to get "the gift"... none of it. I was just so thankful and happy that I was actually able to do it.  Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6341350160079063392?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6341350160079063392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6341350160079063392' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6341350160079063392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6341350160079063392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/cloud-nine.html' title='Cloud Nine'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6405870760833561843</id><published>2009-12-17T07:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T08:02:56.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Roller Coaster of My Life</title><content type='html'>I was originally going to title this as Christmas Miracle but I decided to change it to Roller Coaster of My Life because that is what my life is. I know this is true for everyone else too but it's amazing to me. These last few years has been nothing but a ride on a speeding roller coaster and not always a joy ride. We've had our highs and we've had our lows...I think I'm ready to step off and just enjoy a lazy river for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this week has been a roller coaster for us. With G still not starting work and with his dad's untimely death we've been wiped out financially. Both G and I sat the kids down and explained that X-mas was going to be EXTREMELY light this year. Teen was easier obviously but Seena is 5. She believes in Santa Clause so trying to explain why Santa Clause may not bring as many presents was a little tougher. Later that evening Seena approached me and said the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"mommy, I've been doing some thinking. I'm not going to make Santa give me everything I want. I already have a lot of toys and I know there are kids out there that don't have as much as me. It's ok. I can wait until next Christmas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this should make me proud...and I am, don't get me wrong, but this broke my heart. All I could do was scoop her up, bury my head in her shoulders and cried, "I'm sory, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I did manage to tell her how wonderful she was for saying that and that both God and Santa were listening. This was my low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I got my Christmas miracle. Out of the blue I get a call for an opportunity for extra income, work required obviously, but it didn't matter, it was enough and more! I've always been told to just have faith and that God will always give you what you need. Bless him, bless him, bless him....He has given me a miracle. If all goes well G and I will be hitting the stores this weekend and in crazy, last minute shopping bliss! This was my high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just like that we hit another low that brought us back down to reality. The box arrived. Yes, The Box. Neither of us knew what to expect and G took his time. It was very sad and a little surreal; in his hands G held what was left of his beloved father. And for me, it wasn't freaky or creepy, it was actually comforting. It was nice knowing that we still had Papu with us. I know G is hurting all over again so I say this last prayer and goodbye for both G and I:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    Papu, may you rest in peace in the Kingdom of Heaven and may you be comforted in knowing that you have finally made it to where you've always wanted to be...at home with your boys and family. We love you and miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6405870760833561843?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6405870760833561843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6405870760833561843' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6405870760833561843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6405870760833561843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/roller-coaster-of-my-life.html' title='The Roller Coaster of My Life'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-4577562798006847720</id><published>2009-12-14T06:59:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T20:37:06.968-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Holiday Sugar Rush</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What's more fun than spending an afternoon tempting little kiddies with candy they can't eat :) Just kidding!! Seena and AJ did pretty well actually. I thought for sure I would be constantly taking candy out of AJ's mouth....maybe it was the choice of candies in the Gingerbread House kit? Either way, we spent Saturday decorating a gingerbread house and baking chocoloate chip cookies...mmmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SybnkoGajBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/FPA6PwXv65g/s320/Picture+003.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415270218385230866" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SybnlCbth5I/AAAAAAAAAKY/SBAvhML1F9g/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SybnlCbth5I/AAAAAAAAAKY/SBAvhML1F9g/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415270225453877138" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybnk5SwCEI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/pXlT9hnYYPQ/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybnk5SwCEI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/pXlT9hnYYPQ/s320/Picture+009.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415270223000373314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm3nhLXHI/AAAAAAAAAKA/TSnjaURq3XU/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm3nhLXHI/AAAAAAAAAKA/TSnjaURq3XU/s320/Picture+002.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415269445134933106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm3eMw3TI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/_k3wxcgbTFY/s1600-h/cookies+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm3eMw3TI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/_k3wxcgbTFY/s320/cookies+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415269442633391410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm3FDDuxI/AAAAAAAAAJw/K5At5e3L5ig/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm3FDDuxI/AAAAAAAAAJw/K5At5e3L5ig/s320/Picture+010.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415269435881798418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm2iljo8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/HjdN5JfYuGg/s1600-h/Picture+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm2iljo8I/AAAAAAAAAJo/HjdN5JfYuGg/s320/Picture+011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415269426631254978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Seena, Juno Mom, AJ and Teen&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm2ePTpeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/O-z_8FVcXtw/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sybm2ePTpeI/AAAAAAAAAJg/O-z_8FVcXtw/s320/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415269425464190434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-4577562798006847720?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/4577562798006847720/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=4577562798006847720' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4577562798006847720'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4577562798006847720'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/little-holiday-sugar-rush.html' title='A Little Holiday Sugar Rush'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SybnkoGajBI/AAAAAAAAAKI/FPA6PwXv65g/s72-c/Picture+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8791447623096412456</id><published>2009-12-12T09:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T09:24:45.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sneaky Siblings</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is how I found my two little candy canes after I put them to bed in their separate rooms.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414354434195119298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SyOmq-JC3MI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rTuiAfzYCbw/s320/sleeping+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is how I found them a little later that evening. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414354429456404514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SyOmqsfP0CI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/DcCddKoM_Hk/s320/Sleeping+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8791447623096412456?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8791447623096412456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8791447623096412456' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8791447623096412456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8791447623096412456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/sneaky-siblings.html' title='Sneaky Siblings'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SyOmq-JC3MI/AAAAAAAAAJY/rTuiAfzYCbw/s72-c/sleeping+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2186504421136933324</id><published>2009-12-11T19:03:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T19:39:07.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;As of this moment I can't remember or figure out how the leftover button thingy works. So for now:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;FRIDAY NIGHT LEFTOVERS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Seena does not like raisins however she'll eat them on peanut butter filled celery. She refers to this as "her favorite recipe"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Just this week I realized that AJ's 2nd b-day is literally around the corner and I have made no plans. As of right now I can't decide between it being a Backyardigan's theme or a Farm Animal theme. Oh, and I made up the guest list. That is as far as I've gotten,  not good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Meanwhile, today we celebrated Seena's 1/2 b-day at school. It was actually very sweet. We (G and I) took cupcakes to school and then we read her favorite book to the class.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Today, for the 1st time in my life, I went to Confession. ...and I confessed it all...every little bit. I have no secrets. I do feel better and I hope this "cleansing of my soul" will help me feel less angry all of the time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm amazed every day by what Seena is learning. This week she talked to me about magnets, making self portraits and doing Dance Revolution in PE.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;AJ has started the oddest and annoying habit. He chews up his food and then spits it out. I sat and watched him go through almost an entire package of cherry tomatoes that way. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2186504421136933324?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2186504421136933324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2186504421136933324' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2186504421136933324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2186504421136933324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/friday-night-leftovers.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6890303754164735200</id><published>2009-12-10T08:18:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T09:50:45.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One Diaper</title><content type='html'>I'm the type of person that when I run errands or have to go places, I like to map them out in a very specific order so that I 1) don't waste time 2) don't have to backtrack and 3) don't have to lug any kids in and out of a car numerous times. I'm also one of those people that gets very anxious, annoyed, frustrated if things don't go as planned. I do not like to stray from the order of events. I just don't do well with that. So, with that said I had a specific agenda yesterday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena to school....take AJ to get 2nd and final H1N1 shot...drop off AJ at daycare...go to work to input case in computer...go to Super Target...finish work at home...ship completed case to agency...pick up kids and go to Nanas. Simple. Instead, the earlier part of my day went like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena to school...no problem&lt;br /&gt;Drove by health clinic where free shots were being given. As I pulled up it seemed way too busy and I decided I would come back later. This is still ok with me because my "route" would not be affected as I could simply hit the clinic on my way back from work. To take AJ to daycare and then go to work would mean I would have to backtrack twice - once to get him back to daycare and then to pick him up and take him BACK to the clinic. That scenario was totally not acceptable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brilliant, right? I thought so too until I was just a few minutes away from work when I realized that I had no diapers, no wipes and AJ had not had his morning poo yet. Now, a smart mom or person, for that matter, would just go to the store and get diapers. Not me. Nope, this side trip did not fit into the route and/or order of events. In order for me to get diapers, I HAD to go to Target and it had to be a Super Target because 1) I had coupons for diapers and 2) I needed to get some groceries that I only had specific target coupons for. So, I really couldn't just stop ANYWHERE to get diapers....really, I couldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I began to pray and send God all of my good thoughts to please, please let AJ hold out on his one diaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, God apparently is still enjoying playing jokes and naturally, AJ had a poopy diaper within 10 minutes of being at work. I had at least another 45 minutes of work to do before I could leave. Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After getting him cleaned up, I brought him back into my office. Thankfully, I have my own private office with no windows and that I can lock. And yes, I did the unthinkable. I let my white trash ways out and I let my son run around my office without any pants on. I tried to be clever and I set out boxes and trash cans and told AJ to use them as potties. How I wish I had a camera with me...AJ went from box to box, sitting in them and saying pee pee in each one. That lasted maybe 6-7 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile my anxiety grew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sometime my good conscience came through and I began to try to find something that I could use for a temporary diaper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first attempt was bubble wrap. Mmhmm, bubble wrap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was immediately rejected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, was AJ's jacket. It was lined on the inside and windbreaker like on the outside. I stuck his feet in the arms and pulled the jacket up all the way up as far as it could go up. Then I secured it by wrapping packing tape around him like a little mini mummy. Brilliant! Score!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... until I realized I went down too far and wrapped some of AJ's thighs together. Poor thing was trying to walk around but just couldn't. Goodness, I wish I had a camera!! And of course I let him stay that way. What is wrong with me?!!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miraculously I made it through work without any incidences AND we even made it to Target to get diapers. AND even better, there was no line and no wait at the health clinic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I did take him out of his mummy-diaper outfit before we left work, I'm not that bad!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6890303754164735200?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6890303754164735200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6890303754164735200' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6890303754164735200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6890303754164735200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/one-diaper.html' title='One Diaper'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8198326709343552714</id><published>2009-12-09T07:18:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T07:59:35.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quiet</title><content type='html'>Things have been quiet around here lately, mainly from all that has happened. Last week G was dealing with issues regarding his brother and then over the weekend his father died. Papu died of a heart attack and it was sudden and unexpected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first close family member death for the both of us. I, unfortunately, did not know Papu (Greek for grandfather) very well. I've only met him twice. He lived in Florida and he came to visit us one summer and we saw him in Ft. Lauderdale the night before we were leaving for the cruise. I am saddened by this because in the beginning I misjudged Papu. I did not think highly of him but as the years went by I realized that I just didn't understand the nature of the relationship G had with his dad. Through the years I've heard great stories from both G and Ya Ya. Stories of a man who was an incredible chess player, a man who loved cars and painting them, a man who was as strong as an ox and of a man who loved his family and kids very much. There are two particular stories that I hear repeatedly from Ya Ya and each time I pretend that it's the first time I've heard it. The first is when Ya Ya was pregnant. One particular night she craved watermelon in the middle of the night and Papu went out and got if for her....when he got back she only had one bite.  The other is that Sunday's were the days that Ya Ya got to sleep in. Papu would grab the boys early in the morning and take them out so Ya Ya could sleep in.....hmmmm, I wish this was something that passed down to G ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena has also only met Papu twice and she does remember him from the night we saw him in Ft. Lauderdale.  I think for her, however, it was harder to see her daddy so upset. I know I have a picture of Papu and Seena together, I just don't know where it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G is slowly coming out of his somber haze, each day being a little easier than the one before. G has taken on the official role of the man of the family now and took on the responsibility of handling all of the funeral arrangements. Ya Ya and G chose to have Papu cremated and his ashes sent here. I can't even imagine what that will be like...for the FedEx or UPS man it will just be another box, for G it will be well....so much more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8198326709343552714?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8198326709343552714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8198326709343552714' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8198326709343552714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8198326709343552714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/quiet.html' title='Quiet'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3655530207218872205</id><published>2009-12-01T07:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-01T07:28:01.777-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;G always jokes around that I can sleep anywhere, even standing up. I think I've passed this on to my kids....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Didn't even make it into the bouncy seat (not a wet spot)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULCWRiAYI/AAAAAAAAAJI/RqNJSXjBhH4/s1600/FAMILY.+104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULCWRiAYI/AAAAAAAAAJI/RqNJSXjBhH4/s320/FAMILY.+104.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410242662322274690" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULCEG-OmI/AAAAAAAAAJA/1A1PArZmRlM/s1600/DSC06145.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULCEG-OmI/AAAAAAAAAJA/1A1PArZmRlM/s320/DSC06145.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410242657446148706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My ultimate favorite....this was in the morning while AJ waited for Seena and I to get back from church.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULB5dSGaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/60ohXUUlOSo/s1600/IMAGE_073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULB5dSGaI/AAAAAAAAAI4/60ohXUUlOSo/s320/IMAGE_073.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5410242654586935714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3655530207218872205?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3655530207218872205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3655530207218872205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3655530207218872205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3655530207218872205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/12/sleeping.html' title='Sleeping'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxULCWRiAYI/AAAAAAAAAJI/RqNJSXjBhH4/s72-c/FAMILY.+104.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2092680559831925608</id><published>2009-11-29T21:12:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T22:32:26.440-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;G and I decided to host Thanksgiving this year to give my parents a break. With my sister and her family living there and now two kittens, it's quite hectic over there....all of the time. So, in the spirit of thanksgiving I give thanks to my wonderful parents who have always given and continue to give us so much...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In preparation for the big day we made thanksgiving crafts.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMsTkvm_0I/AAAAAAAAAIw/y0-YYHR6jbE/s1600/DSC06351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMsTkvm_0I/AAAAAAAAAIw/y0-YYHR6jbE/s320/DSC06351.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409716292194598722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMsTESqyzI/AAAAAAAAAIo/EvW83TL_XBs/s1600/DSC06353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMsTESqyzI/AAAAAAAAAIo/EvW83TL_XBs/s320/DSC06353.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409716283483278130" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqufw7jRI/AAAAAAAAAIg/b5lXjyaelhc/s1600/DSC06357.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqufw7jRI/AAAAAAAAAIg/b5lXjyaelhc/s320/DSC06357.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409714555691175186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMquGrlyWI/AAAAAAAAAIY/4upnN6Y5Xz4/s1600/DSC06364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMquGrlyWI/AAAAAAAAAIY/4upnN6Y5Xz4/s320/DSC06364.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409714548957890914" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqt2e88rI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/eQkhkiEMfa0/s1600/DSC06365.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqt2e88rI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/eQkhkiEMfa0/s320/DSC06365.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409714544609915570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I when I meant hosting I meant hosting but apparently my mom (and sister) have a different take on that. See, when I made the call to tell them I would have thanksgiving at my house they immediately asked what they could bring. My first instinct was to say nothing but I'm learning not to do that anymore so I made it simple; Mom brings sweet potato casserole, Sister V brings rolls and a pie and Uncle J is in charge of appetizers. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Simple right....nope. Through many trial and errors, I've learned to double, triple check things with my mom. The day before I was going to go shopping I called my mom to double check on what she was intending to bring. Her sweet potato casserole turned into the green bean casserole, the stuffing and the mashed potatoes. I'm sure she would have bought the turkey had I not already done so. Don't get me wrong, that was totally fine by me but the whole point was to to help her out. Oh, and did I mention the appetizers? Please don't mistake this as a complaint, I really do find this all very humorous. In good old Uncle J fashion he brought enough appetizers to be Thanksgiving Dinner....and was actually a little peeved that he wasn't "allowed" to bring everything he wanted. I love my family :) So, in the end I was just in charge of the turkey. And it came out awesome...thanks to Ms. Martha Stewart.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqtvkGG8I/AAAAAAAAAII/L4tpWSMVhlA/s1600/DSC06372.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqtvkGG8I/AAAAAAAAAII/L4tpWSMVhlA/s320/DSC06372.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409714542752439234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqtXxdVSI/AAAAAAAAAIA/IFQZCnt0OTg/s1600/DSC06374.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMqtXxdVSI/AAAAAAAAAIA/IFQZCnt0OTg/s320/DSC06374.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409714536366036258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And of course I can't forget to mention the surprise my bro showed up with! Growing up we used to stay up all night on Thanksgiving and play video games. It was so much fun. Well, he surprised me with the new Super Mario Brothers game for Wii where two players can play at the same time. It was so much fun and my thumbs were so sore the next morning....it was a perfect ending to a perfect day!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2092680559831925608?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2092680559831925608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2092680559831925608' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2092680559831925608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2092680559831925608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SxMsTkvm_0I/AAAAAAAAAIw/y0-YYHR6jbE/s72-c/DSC06351.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3518786146011818584</id><published>2009-11-25T07:16:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T08:12:03.692-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Teen's B-day Bash (a week or so later)</title><content type='html'>I know, I know...I've said it all before...I can't keep up with getting to my blog daily. Between my computer being as slow as the Comcast Turtles, my son waking up at 5:30am every morning again and now that G's laptop crashed, time on this computer (computer that has all of the pictures) is limited. As we speak I have little AJ sitting on my lap feeding me Crunch n' Berries. Oh, wait we're done so we need to go get more. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alright, I'm back. So, anyhow, here we are recounting Teen's 15 b-day bash. As the big date approached G and I contemplated on what to do. Unfortunately, we found ourselves in the same spot we were last year...jobless and broke. Our original idea was to take Teen and a friend to NYC. The obviously went out the window pretty quickly. Teen didn't want a party so we finally&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; settled on a very nice steakhouse dinner and shopping. With some major saving and creative financial management we were able to save enough money to do this. We gave Teen a set budget and said this is what we have to spend total...you can either spend it at a fancy dinner and have less for shopping or the vice versa. She chose the fancy dinner. I was surprised I must say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The evening of her b-day we took her and a friend to a very nice and expensive steakhouse in the city. It was nice for G and I too. We didn't "celebrate" our anniversary this year so we looked&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; at the evening as our night too. It was also nice to see Teen experience it all. The food was of course excellent. Afterwards, we walked up and down the street looking at all of the shops. Of course, we, G and I, had to walk several steps ahead of the girls. Oh, I remember those days :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The next day was the big family celebration. Everyone was coming over for Teen's favorite meal, spaghetti pie, and some cake. After looking through several of my cake decorating magazines I settled for what seemed as a simple cake. It was a stack of cupcakes with some decorations. Really not that hard, contrary to what BFF A said, "You always pick the hardest cakes to make".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; She was referring to Seena's cake. Which was not hard, elaborate and time consuming, yes, but not hard. I know my limits and I know what I can and cannot do (yet). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The preparations for the cake started well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I made flowers and dots for the cake&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0l-yLyaLI/AAAAAAAAAHI/84jScvM_CAo/s320/DSC06314.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408020488095164594" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0n7Wa_q-I/AAAAAAAAAH4/soAtPbIWM48/s1600/DSC06329.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I made the layers or "tiers", which there were suppose to be 4. All in all I used 3 cake mixes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0nahBP3XI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/fGfrG3JissQ/s320/DSC06317.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408022064035519858" /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0naixe9SI/AAAAAAAAAHY/XTWmAjZvpRw/s320/DSC06318.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408022064506271010" /&gt;All seemed to be going well until my 2nd tier. I didn't buy a jumbo size muffin tin so I improvised and used a large mixing bowl. It was a perfect, perfect, perfect fix until a small piece got stuck in the bowl. Ugh! As soon as I put on all of the tiers, I instantly noticed everything leaning...specifically on the side with the damaged tier. I, with the help of my dear friend V, tried to salvage the cake by literally stuffing extra pieces, which there was a ton of, of cake into the side of the 2nd tier that was damaged. At first, it seemed to have worked. We moved on to decorating the cake with the help of Teen and BFF A.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0nbDeeGlI/AAAAAAAAAHg/jvFPswWHFi8/s320/DSC06323.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408022073284893266" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;But since we are talking about me and things just never seem to go exactly as I envisioned them, we ended up with a leaning tower of cupcakes. Tada....behold the wonder&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0n6syhGoI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Fo2E_bj2Ycs/s320/DSC06324.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408022616950774402" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Nevertheless, Teen liked her cake...it was delicious at least :) And perhaps the crookedness added some extra flair to it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0n67a9U1I/AAAAAAAAAHw/h3mI6WGXPN8/s320/DSC06328.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408022620878492498" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh, and because I'm the greatest and most organized mom in the world, I also forgot to buy candles so we used tealights. Yes, you read that correctly, tealights. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0n7Wa_q-I/AAAAAAAAAH4/soAtPbIWM48/s320/DSC06329.JPG" style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5408022628126403554" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Birthday Teen!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3518786146011818584?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3518786146011818584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3518786146011818584' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3518786146011818584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3518786146011818584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/teens-b-day-bash-week-or-so-later.html' title='Teen&apos;s B-day Bash (a week or so later)'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sw0l-yLyaLI/AAAAAAAAAHI/84jScvM_CAo/s72-c/DSC06314.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7863882037361805453</id><published>2009-11-20T21:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T22:18:40.921-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WsSoZmRnJpc/SwXb9b8eCvI/AAAAAAAADaE/JDaT6a2iEBA/s400/leftoversbutton.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 111px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WsSoZmRnJpc/SwXb9b8eCvI/AAAAAAAADaE/JDaT6a2iEBA/s400/leftoversbutton.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, I got the thingy to work....yes, I really am computer dumb.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, my week's been blah and no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;umph&lt;/span&gt; to write a full blog so this is perfect!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;**forgot to mention last week** I find it very interesting that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Teen's&lt;/span&gt; mom has $$ to buy Teen a laptop for her b-day. She has yet to pay for 1 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ortho&lt;/span&gt; payment, which she agreed to do prior to Teen getting braces back in November 2008.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;was starting to think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;AJ&lt;/span&gt; was over me until he got super sick with a stomach virus and has been attached to my hip for the last two days....literally.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm really sorry to hear of my dear friend &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Danifred's&lt;/span&gt; fall, but do have to agree with her in her belief that all falls are funny :) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;my implementation of a visual "1.2.3 strike-out = no playtime with friends" has worked excellent for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt;. We've had an incredible week so far...and she is even aware of how well she is doing&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; is doing super good at school now....the letters have clicked. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;soo&lt;/span&gt; cute to hear her sound out a word to figure out the first letter....I just love it!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teen had a "what to do to get to college" seminar at school this week where they emphasized how important it was to get good grades even in ninth grade AND that getting involved in extracurricular activities was just as important. I've been telling her this for forever but yet never believed me. So now naturally she is the manager of the freshman and JV basketball teams. I'm really beginning to think the book I'm reading...."Yes, Your Teen is Crazy" has merit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I hold grudges and I hate it. G made a bad decision and has been in the doghouse for most of the week. Now that things seem to be turning for the better I should stop being grumpy but I don't know how to get over that hump. I'm ashamed of this because only a month or so ago I was harping on my sister for this exact thing. Staying angry is a choice but it's really not a choice that's worth it. Get over it, get over it, get over it, get over it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;no progress on the science garden.....&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;grrr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On a good note...G got offered two jobs....AGAIN! Luckily this time we are in agreement as to which one would be better.  Yeah for us!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7863882037361805453?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7863882037361805453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7863882037361805453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7863882037361805453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7863882037361805453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/friday-night-leftovers_20.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WsSoZmRnJpc/SwXb9b8eCvI/AAAAAAAADaE/JDaT6a2iEBA/s72-c/leftoversbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5749876386250646041</id><published>2009-11-13T20:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T20:27:02.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday Night Leftovers</title><content type='html'>Okay, I hope I did this right....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am back to playing musical beds. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Really considered looking up a child psychologist for Seena this week. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;AJ has begun a taking off his diaper and then peeing in his pants, but yet he has no interest in peeing in the potty. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teen got an 82% on an Earth Science test that I made her study my way. I again reminded her that I was not crazy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wear Teen's hand me downs quite proudly. This week it was a like a shopping spree, I think I got 3-4 shirts and some PJs.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;All week I was looking forward to posting to this and was purposely reminding myself of tidbits to add but now that I'm here, I can't remember&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm not feeling the "love" on this new project from the PTA that I've been assigned to. So far the President has not responded to my e-mails and the treasurer told me that she couldn't quite get a strong feel for it yet. Meanwhile, I've already set up an appointment to take a tour of a very successful discovery school yard next week. This is not a very good start ladies.....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5749876386250646041?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5749876386250646041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5749876386250646041' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5749876386250646041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5749876386250646041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/friday-night-leftovers.html' title='Friday Night Leftovers'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2796915115612848916</id><published>2009-11-12T21:21:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T23:06:18.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Giving Tree</title><content type='html'>I've just returned from a volunteer meeting for my church's Giving Tree. Tonight we had to assemble the tags to be placed on the tree. The list of names are made up of local charities and some of the church's own Samaritan families. Typical giving tree stuff, I assume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat next to a, let's see, how do I put this...a large, Italian, Catholic woman. I think that should be enough, right? Anyways, her task was sticking the labels on the tags and as she did, she read what was on them. And she commented and commented and commented. None were nice comments. Did I forget to mention this was a giving tree through our church???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her biggest surprise was to see a gift request for an IPod Shuffle or a $50 gift certificate to Best Buy.  Maybe, at first, one might think that was a little odd but the request was for a 14 year old boy. I pointed this out but it made no difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon after she came upon a request for gift certificates for McDonald's. Her comment...."now, this is more like it." Seriously? This is Christmas. This is a Giving Tree. This is a way to help and give someone less fortunate a Christmas...to give kids a Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This made me so upset tonight. Yes, an IPod request may raise an eyebrow but think about it. This is Christmas and this is a teenage boy. Obviously his family is in a position where gifts are not possible. It's not his fault but yet he has to go to school and be with friends that probably get whatever they want. It's not his fault and he should ask for this. This is Christmas. It's his wish, that's what Christmas is for kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago the church called me and asked me if I wanted our family to be on the tags. We are a Samaritan family. We've been helped by the church and they periodically check in on us. I declined but that could have been my kid's tag. I know what it's like to be poor at Christmas. It's a horrible, horrible feeling. For two years in a row I had no idea how we were going to buy gifts for the kids. Sure, we could try to explain to them that there was no money but it was heart wrenching enough to have to deal with it internally, there was no way we could have told the kids. Had I known the Giving Tree was an option for us back then I would have totally, 100% jumped all over it. And I wouldn't have felt guilty about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By God's miracle, we were able to give our kids a decent Christmas both years. This Giving Tree may be these kids, these families miracle. Shame on this woman for trying to take that away from a kid and from parents that want nothing more than a Christmas morning for their kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shame on her. And she calls herself a Catholic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2796915115612848916?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2796915115612848916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2796915115612848916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2796915115612848916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2796915115612848916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/giving-tree.html' title='The Giving Tree'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7717848644657726670</id><published>2009-11-11T09:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T09:50:32.508-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bored No More</title><content type='html'>Beside the many quick approaching b-days, family events and holidays that are filling up my mind and time, I have finally found the "thing" - the project - I was searching for. Through Seena's PTA I've been put in charge of the Outdoor Science Garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do hope they know what they are getting themselves into. This could not be more perfect for me. From the moment I was able to get the kids down to bed last night, I was ALL over the Internet looking at ideas, other schoolyards - which there are some fantastic ones that I have no problem copying - finding resources, etc. My mind is racing with ideas and I feel like I'm ready to burst and it hasn't even been 24 hours!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So far the plan is to have an Amphitheater, butterfly garden, a pond and raised flower beds. That's what's been budgeted for. If I can get my way....there will be much more :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7717848644657726670?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7717848644657726670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7717848644657726670' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7717848644657726670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7717848644657726670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/bored-no-more.html' title='Bored No More'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6730135131143827277</id><published>2009-11-08T08:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T08:54:19.949-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trophies</title><content type='html'>For the past years I've been raising a shy girl...one who hides behind mommies legs, barely speaks above a whisper when spoken too by anyone other than family, when she was 3 cried so much in dance class that she was asked to leave...yes, this was my girl. But now that she's 5 she has been coming out of her shell and is apparently on her way to stardom, as per the conversation on the way home yesterday:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena - mom, when I grow up I want to sing on stage&lt;br /&gt;Mom - wow, sweetie, that's great. Now that you are in dance, you will be on stage dancing so this will be great practice.&lt;br /&gt;Seena - yes, and if there was a coloring contest, I would win that, because I'm so good at coloring.&lt;br /&gt;Mom - yes, sweetie, you are very good at coloring&lt;br /&gt;Seena - yeah, and I can color in the lines, I can dance, I can sing...and if there was a contest for stooding up for myself I would win that too. Oh my goodness, I am so good at everything. I am going to win and get lots of trophies. I can't wait to tell daddy and my friend A.&lt;br /&gt;Mom - {raised eyebrow} ---thoughts in head---uh-oh, what's this all about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then proceed to try to explain that winning isn't everything, just trying your best, it's about the fun...blah, blah, blah....yeah, it went right over head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment we got home she told her daddy how awesome she was and that she was going to win a ton of trophies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping this is really just the building blocks for great self-esteem and confidence :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6730135131143827277?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6730135131143827277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6730135131143827277' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6730135131143827277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6730135131143827277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/trophies.html' title='Trophies'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5702924440256334191</id><published>2009-11-07T07:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T08:15:22.347-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Fake Phone Calls</title><content type='html'>I have given-in to making fake phone calls. This is sort of like telling little white lies to your kids to get them to do what you say. I really tried to avoid this. I wanted Seena to understand that no means no and ultimately want to prove that whining doesn't get you want you want. Unfortunately, for this particular case...I may have lost the battle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena is 5 and for the time we have lived here, she has had no neighborhood friends. It's all boys, older kids or the kids are too young. But as of 2 months ago we now have another 5 year old girl living 1 house down, we'll call her A. When I realized this I was soooo excited. Finally, Seena can have a friend in the neighborhood to play with. We immediately introduced ourselves and invited her over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as this was the best thing....it's also been the worst thing. It's none stop now. From the minute Seena wakes up it's "Can A come over? Can I go over to A's house?" This goes on all day, everyday. I was worried  that Seena might be smothering her new found friend because it is ALWAYS Seena initiating playtime but her mother has reassured me that A shares the same feelings. If that's the case, why isn't she knocking on our door? I personally think we scare her. See A's family, even with 4 kids, is a quiet family. We are not...not in the least bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again - this being a good thing, I now have new ammunition with Seena....be naughty and no playtime with A. Bad thing, a whole new slew of arguments between her and I. Seena cannot take no for an answer when it comes to A. She won't even accept that A's parents are not home, are saying no, that I say no...it doesn't matter. It's always, "well, can maybe, just maybe, can A come over after....whatever it is" or "can you just call A's mom and ask". I've tried to stand my ground but I finally gave in and made a fake phone call. And just like that it was over. Do I feel guilty? Yeah, a little, but in this trek through motherhood, you've got to pick your battles. As they say, you win some, you lose some. I'm not happy that I "gave in" but at least the argument was over and we were able to salvage the rest of the night and my sanity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5702924440256334191?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5702924440256334191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5702924440256334191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5702924440256334191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5702924440256334191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/making-fake-phone.html' title='Making Fake Phone Calls'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3350915136897824991</id><published>2009-11-06T07:56:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T08:18:23.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure what I expected but I don't think I expected making lunch for Seena would be as difficult as it is. Well, maybe difficult isn't the right word....boring is probably a lot better. See, Seena has inherited Yaya's and G's pickiness. Or maybe it's the age, I don't know, but it's a little annoying. 5 days a week this is Seena's lunch:&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ham sandwich&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fruit -&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cucumbers&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Something else - fruit roll-up or yogurt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Every once in awhile we'll mix it up with a PBJ sandwich and some celery. The fruit I'm fine with but the vegetables...I might as well be giving her water. I mean really, cucumber and celery? It's just green water. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've tried giving her chicken soup. Came back almost full. I've tried pasta, broccoli, cheese - never finishes it. I even tried tricking her and I hid a slice of turkey inside her sandwich. Totally got busted. Apparently, she doesn't like the lunch meats mixed. And forget school lunches. We tried that once - horrible. I wouldn't even eat it and I eat anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My sister's kids on the other hand, eat everything. Hard boil eggs, humus, chicken salad, guacamole, burritos - yes, these have all been items in their lunch boxes. I would love to be able to have these choices to make lunch with everyday. The different nutritional values in the variety alone is worth the time it takes to make those lunches. My sister packs the kids lunches the night before...I whip up Seena's 10 minutes before we leave the house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this, on top of ABC's, Algebra and keeping the couch pillows on the couch, is my new challenge. I'm trying to add some new flair to Seena's lunch. Last week I introduced spinach and a pomegranate. Spinach no good in a quesadilla but was eaten in eggs and camouflaged in a salad. Thankfully the pomegranate was a hit. But that again is a fruit. Back to the drawing board. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3350915136897824991?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3350915136897824991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3350915136897824991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3350915136897824991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3350915136897824991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/lunch.html' title='Lunch'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8880709407196333044</id><published>2009-11-03T07:53:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T08:52:29.200-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not in My Nature.</title><content type='html'>Growing up I did not have issues with school, meaning, my parents rarely had to check on me if I was doing my homework etc. I really only remember one time when I had a book report due and I had not read the book. I remember my parents giving me what I assume was coffee to try to stay up to read the book. They definitely weren't happy but other than that I was on my own. My parents, well, really my mom had high expectations for me and therefore so did I. I wanted and had to get A's. Obviously, some classes were harder than others but I tried to get good grades. I didn't miss homework assignments or any of that stuff. So, with this as my experience I'm struggling with how to cope with Teen's struggles in school. I used to blame it on the fact that I did not raise her but Seena is not progressing as quickly as she should in school. This is a killer for me. She's my flesh and blood and she's already struggling, well, maybe that's a bit exaggerated, she is only in Kindergarten but still. The teacher keeps reassuring me that it will "click" and I know it will. I see an improvement everyday, slow but it's there. I've resorted to labeling things in my house ....M for microwave, F for fireplace, V for vase, etc. I even made letter necklaces for G and I to wear around the house. And everything is letters...any games we play, anywhere we go, I'm constantly pointing out and asking what the letter is and what it sounds like. Volunteering in her class isn't helping me grasp this either. Some of the other kids breeze right through their letters. I know every kid is different but she's mine, I thought she was going to be just like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this post was intended for Teen so I have to get back on track. After our "incident" I really struggled with getting past my anger and wanting to stay involved in Teen's life. I talked to friends and my family. I cried when I was told that I was fighting a losing battle. If Teen did not want to succeed nothing I did would make a difference. And as much as I believed and understood that, I couldn't accept it. It is not in my nature. My mom and I had a long talk and that's probably where I cried the most. And she asked me an interesting question....why was I trying so hard? Why was I trying to "fix" her? And I realized that's what I do. It's what I've always done. Growing up I was always on top of my sister, making sure she was doing what she was suppose to be doing. If she got herself in a mess, I fixed it. I still do it now. I'm the one that deals with all of legal matters, management issues, I write all of the letters, I still follow up on my sister and sometimes my brother. I most certainly have that same role in my household. Now, I know I can't change anyone but I do everything in my power to try to make sure those around me do not fail, get hurt or get in trouble. I don't do the work for them, at least I try not to, but I'm always there to pick up the pieces if need be. Does this suck sometimes? Sure. Is this taken for granted,\? Sure. But it is what it is. It's my role. I actually get more anxiety when things go wrong when they really shouldn't than with the fact that I feel like I'm the one having to "do" everything. So when Teen forgets to turn HW or fails a test, it's like I failed. I feel like it's my fault. I should have been more on top of her assignments or her study schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried to follow the advice of letting go. I really did. I told her that I was no longer going to get involved and if she did not want to succeed than that was on her. I reassured her that I believed in her, as I always have, but that I was not going to try so hard when she didn't care. Yeah, that lasted less than a day. I couldn't do it. I felt like I was giving up on her. G tried to help. He wrote up a schedule and pushed the studying but I couldn't keep myself out of it. It's not in my nature. After several talks, many arguments of schedules and studying, many times to be told to "chill out" and a parent/teacher conference, we all seem to be on the same page. I think Teen is understanding that high school is not like middle school and she needs to study everyday. And I'm understanding to let Teen think she's managing her own schedule :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The outcome of all my pushing and nagging .... we got a call from Teen's math teacher last week. Teen passed her retake test with a 78 and is receiving a passing grade for the semester! I'm sure I embarrassed the hell out of her in front of her friend. I jumped up and down with joy and covered her head in kisses. I knew she could do it. I've always known she could do it. There's no way I can let her fail knowing this. It's not in my nature.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8880709407196333044?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8880709407196333044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8880709407196333044' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8880709407196333044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8880709407196333044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/not-in-my-nature.html' title='Not in My Nature.'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-4834138566637003313</id><published>2009-11-02T08:04:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T08:38:29.245-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Halloween is my favorite, favorite holiday...followed closely by Christmas of course. Christmas is a given...I almost don't even count that as a choice. But Halloween...it's so fun. All of the spooky decorations, the costumes, once upon a time the parties, the fun food things you can do, etc. It's just fun. Once a year you get to be silly...I love it. I've ALWAYS wanted to be the house that totally gets decked out for Halloween...I'm getting there....very slowly...but I'll get there :) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Teen's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;best friend's&lt;/span&gt; mom decked her house out and had a bunch of teens over to kick-off the evening. I'm glad Teen got to go but I was jealous. I was suppose to be that mom. I know it's crazy wanting to have a bunch of teens in the house but I can't help it. I'll get there....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;But for now, we'll just recant our  day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Crazy me decided to do a marathon festivities day. Maybe it was cabin fever, I don't know but I was all over the place. We started with a trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Michael's&lt;/span&gt; for a Halloween craft project. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt;, of course, did great. I don't know what possessed me to think that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;AJ&lt;/span&gt; would sit through and do a project.&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Su7aUp0ZjPI/AAAAAAAAAG4/B-m0n2Kkt6o/s320/DSC06288.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399493051621674226" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because I'm a fabulous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;procrastinator&lt;/span&gt;, I waited too long for an oil change so that had to get squeezed in. Luckily there was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;McD's&lt;/span&gt; to hang out at during the 45 minute wait. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next we moved on to a Dog Costume Contest at the local Garden center. We didn't enter a dog but I thought the kids would get a kick out of seeing the costumes. They did, and some were so cute. Plus there was free popcorn there and we all loved that :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next it was the neighborhood Halloween party. Not quite the Halloween party I was expecting but still, there was candy there and a magician. For &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; it was great. For &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;AJ&lt;/span&gt;, he was more interested in having me chase him around everywhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In between all of the festivities we made a few pit stops at home. Once while we there, G asked how I had the energy. The answer is simple...making my kids happy. I know the day was not some monumental experience or event but minus the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;McD's&lt;/span&gt; lunch, my entire day was free and my kids got to get a craft, candy, Halloween pails, balloons, popcorn, moon bounce, super slide and a magic show. Not to bad I don't think. Definitely beats sitting at home watching TV...plus it kept the house clean...much to G's delight :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, after all of the running around it was trick or treating time. When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; was younger she was scared to go. It wasn't until last year that she really got into it. It's a totally different thing for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;AJ&lt;/span&gt;. Maybe it's because he's got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; to look up to but he had no fear, well minus one werewolf costume.  We walked up and down two full streets and he never sat in the stroller. My favorite was when it was time to say trick or treat...I prompted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;AJ&lt;/span&gt; "what do you say" he looked at the candy givers with his hand out and said "pees". So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;stinkin'&lt;/span&gt; cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Su7fPlpQbxI/AAAAAAAAAHA/oafnviDDJRQ/s320/DSC06306.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399498462159990546" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, Halloween is my favorite holiday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for my kids, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; has moved on, been there done that. She's already cutting out pictures of toys she wants and gluing them into the Christmas Wish Book....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-4834138566637003313?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/4834138566637003313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=4834138566637003313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4834138566637003313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/4834138566637003313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/11/halloween.html' title='Halloween!'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Su7aUp0ZjPI/AAAAAAAAAG4/B-m0n2Kkt6o/s72-c/DSC06288.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5245319791957640942</id><published>2009-10-30T07:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T07:41:39.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>One Year Later</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was the year anniversary of the restaurant closing. I can still remember it like was yesterday. I can still remember all of the emotions that slammed through us...shock, fear, confusion, sadness, anger, pain, guilt, emptiness. It was dreadful. I also remembering sitting on my front porch on Halloween night with my dear friend V. As I watched the waves of kids come to our front porch for candy I started to cry thinking that that was going to be my last Halloween in my house...but alas, here I am, still in my wonderful home, getting ready for those waves of kids again. In looking back, this past year has been interesting. Some things have been great, awesome even but other things haven't changed yet. For the first time in a long time, I can actually say that time did NOT fly by. It's been a long rough year but I remember my days, I feel good that I made the most of each and every one. I can look back and actually say I don't regret anything...well, that's not true entirely...I didn't make it to the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in a quick round up - the good and bad of how far we've come since last year:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The restaurant is still empty. And I'm finally starting to agree with the guys (G&amp;amp;J) that the landlord screwed us over. They've heard it from several people and now that I'm learning of the incredible offers the landlords is giving to try to rerent the place, it's disheartening. I would like to say it serves him right but I'm Catholic and I can't.&lt;br /&gt;2. No closure. Things are still not complete and it's very frustrating. I hate the unknowing and until things remain unfinished, that's where we remain.&lt;br /&gt;3. G is back to being unemployed. We're back to where we started. This is hard to swallow. For a short stint we were doing ok, things looked promising but it was short lived and we're back "there" again. I can feel myself being pulled into my darkness again but I'm trying really hard to not let myself falter. I can't go back there again, I just can't.&lt;br /&gt;4. My mom. She's not over it and I don't know if she ever will be. It's heartbreaking for me. I am still so consumed with guilt for having caused her so much stress and pain. No matter what I say, she can't get past being angry. I pray everyday for some resolution for her but I'm afraid her anger is blocking the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Good&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. G and I have become stronger. I don't know how else to explain that. We as a couple, as parents and human beings, we've become stronger.&lt;br /&gt;2. I've reconnected with my Faith. It is true that in the past I've turned to it in times of hardship but I've remained faithful, even in the good times. My Faith has given me a peace that fuels my mind, body and soul.&lt;br /&gt;3. I'm still in my home, for now. We're so close to getting a resolution with our house but now that G is unemployed, I'm scared again. If this loan modification doesn't go through, we've lost our chance. There is no second one.&lt;br /&gt;4. My kids, my happiness. They are immune to the suffering and the sacrificing and that is all that matters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5245319791957640942?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5245319791957640942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5245319791957640942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5245319791957640942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5245319791957640942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-year-later.html' title='One Year Later'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8561688015933166312</id><published>2009-10-28T07:11:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T07:59:39.752-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Not Crazy</title><content type='html'>As much as I love being a mom, I've decided it's a perpetual curse from one mother to another. I know I gave my mom hell and I thought she was crazy. I especially thought she was crazy because she grew up in a different country so how could she know what life was "really" like for a teen here in the U.S.? I'm already thinking I can't wait for Teen to have her own kids (at the right time) and have to deal with "being crazy"...see it's a curse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, now that I'm a mom I'm realizing that some things may have been different but for the most part my mom was not crazy...and neither am I...contrary to what Teen believes. It really is funny how she thinks I don't get it or that I talk just to hear myself talk..well, sometimes that may be true..but for the most part I know "what's up". I recently learned that her mother said that I was too strict and expected Teen to be a perfect straight A student. Yeah, that is not true. My mother was strict...I'm just tough ;) Seriously though, I don't think I'm overly strict. I want Teen to have fun and love life everyday, especially now when there are no worries. My rules are simple...do your best in school, get good grades (not straight A's), and be honest. That's it. I don't think that's too bad. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ninth grade has been a big adjustment for Teen so far. The work is very different from Middle school and she's having a tough time with it. I've finally broken it down to her that she needs to study a little every day, even if she doesn't have HW. This did not go over too well with her..she thought I was crazy, especially after our little incident recently but after our parent/teacher conference and the teachers said the EXACT same thing I said, she finally got it. I even looked at her and said..."see, I'm not crazy".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8561688015933166312?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8561688015933166312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8561688015933166312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8561688015933166312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8561688015933166312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-not-crazy.html' title='I&apos;m Not Crazy'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6668183085012934380</id><published>2009-10-27T07:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T07:26:26.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Volunteering</title><content type='html'>No, it hasn't taken me this long to settle down and get over my anger issue...it's just been busy. The dust has settled, it's amazing what waiting in a 3 hour line for the H1N1 flu shot can do to simmer things down between Teen and I. Yes, you did read correctly 3 hours. And, the best part about that is out of the 4 of us, Me, Teen, Seena and AJ, only Seena and I got the shot. So, now I have to go back and wait 3 hours again for Teen and AJ. Fun stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Teen and I have come to an agreement (more on this on another post), G and I are on the same page, we've had a parent/teacher conference and they are on the same page with us. Hopefully, this will move things in a better direction. Still have not talked to Teen's mom. She won't return my call. That's fine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now back to my post. Ever since Seena started Kindergarten and Teen has started HS, I've gone a little volunteering crazy. More so for Seena....it's easier. Recently, Seena's school had a family fun night with a Magic Show and I volunteered to help with the pizza sales before the show. One of my daycare parents overheard me say this and laughed that I was the in the new kindergarten mom honeymoon phase. Hmmm, is it? I don't know. Since school has started I've joined the PTA and have gone to the meetings, I volunteer in the classroom for a few hours once a month, I'm starting this attendance thing once a week next week (it's just 15 minutes), I volunteer at as many events as I can....including Teen's Homecoming. That was interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it a honeymoon? I don't know but I don't think so. I've always wanted to be involved in my kids stuff and now that there are opportunities to do so, I want to. I enjoy it. Plus I'm bored. There I said it. I am very, very, very bored. My job offers me no fulfillment. None. Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful that it's flexible and that I can volunteer but I'm finding myself getting aggravated with work. It's almost become a nuisance for me...an interruption in my day. But I'm thankful...don't want to jinx myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest volunteering gesture is potentially becoming a co-leader for Seena's Daisy troop. My sister thinks I'm crazy but I need to do something. Being bored has made my mind wander into crazy thinking...like going back to school to possibly teach?, to start my own part-time business, to go back to meeting planning...yes, I've actually been researching these options a lot and in depth....that's how bored I am. Maybe it's just my funk....but for now, I'm enjoying my volunteering honeymoon. Seena loves it when I'm in the classroom. Teen on the other hand...her words over Homecoming ..."I'm not going to talk to you". :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6668183085012934380?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6668183085012934380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6668183085012934380' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6668183085012934380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6668183085012934380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/10/volunteering.html' title='Volunteering'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-978438016332655141</id><published>2009-10-13T15:47:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T21:30:33.727-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Accountability</title><content type='html'>Out of respect, I have skirted around my true feelings about certain people in my life. I worried that just maybe certain people would come across this blog and well, not be happy but no more. I don't care. I am fed up. My shoulders cannot bear the weight of other people's responsibilities any longer... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still finding it difficult to talk or even write about this because I am still so emotional over the betrayal I experienced this weekend. You know what, betrayal is probably not the right word, I mean, Teen's mom does not have any loyalties towards me right? I mean, I am only raising HER daughter. By her choice nonetheless. It's not like G and I swooped in and forced full-time care for Teen. I used to give her the benefit of the doubt. She had a horrible husband and perhaps it was in Teen's best interest that she handed Teen over to us. G tried a few times to tell me she wasn't exactly all-together right or as G would say cuckoo. But I didn't want to believe him. I couldn't understand how a mom could let someone raise their own kid but whatever, we did it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It hasn't been easy. Not at all. The first year was horrendous. And maybe I still carry a grudge for Teen to this day because our relationship is certainly not perfect. We do lack a connection but I cannot accept the full blame. I have always dreamed of having a family, a big one. One where we were all up in each other's stuff all the time...kinda like I grew up. But I don't have that. There is a division in my family; me and the little ones and Teen and G. I know Teen complains of feeling that she doesn't belong anywhere but I have tried and tried to make this family unite as one but between Teen's walls and G's laid back approach to everything, it's been a struggle. But I continued to fight because I believed I would get there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within the last year or so I began noticing Teen's mom interest or concern in Teen decrease. Teen's mom did not insist on getting Teen on her weekends or over the summer as was agreed on. I don't think I ever received a call from Teen's mom asking how Teen was doing in school or in general. Lately, I'm lucky if she even returns a call now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I find so funny now, is that Teen thinks her mom walks on water and I'm the B. She even told a friend right in front of me, that her mom is like her best friend and I'm like her real mom. That's great. So, I'm the B because:&lt;br /&gt;I believe in good grades&lt;br /&gt;I'm strict about grades and following rules&lt;br /&gt;I do not tolerate lying&lt;br /&gt;I have expectations of everyone, EVERYONE, contributing in the house&lt;br /&gt;I want family traditions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm the B. Can't you tell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it finally starts to get really good when I caught both Teen and her mom in a lie. I grounded Teen again for bad grades for the weekend and her mom - fully aware of my rules when it comes to grades covered for Teen this weekend. She told me Teen was with her when in fact she most certainly was not. I can't even begin to express how angry I was and still am. I, for one, cannot STAND lying.. Because Teen is a teen, I can accept it for Teen because of the age but not her mom. Especially not when she handed her over to ME to raise. I don't think I need to remind anyone how difficult it is to raise a teenager. They are constantly testing their limits, trying to see what they can get away etc. etc. So, someone please tell me WHY, why would a parent want to encourage that behavior? And, on top of that, I struggle with authority with Teen as it is, didn't her mom think that by allowing her daughter to lie and lie with her would totally undermine any authority I had at all. AND ON TOP OF THAT - the fact that her mom KNEW Teen had not just one, but three bad grades (lower than C) and STILL let her lie, lied with her and let her go out to have fun, is completely beyond me. This makes me soooo mad. Part of our jobs, as parents, is to make sure that we help our children lay the foundation to a successful future for themselves. How is Teen going to get that if her own mother is teaching her that it's ok to lie and that grades are obviously not important?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooh, and it gets better. After learning of all of the lying I told Teen and G she had to move back in with her mom. If her mom wanted to teach her those things than she can raise her. Teen's mom needed some accountability for her own daughter. I was done. So, what does Teen's mom do....drops off Teen at Teen's best friend's house, asks if she can stay with them and lies to them and tells them that we were aware that Teen was there. Unbelievable!!! I have absolutely NO RESPECT for this woman any more. None. I'm sorry Teen, if you ever read this but this is my space, these are my feelings. I cannot accept this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, you ask where G fits into all of this. He's upset with me for essentially making a decision regarding HIS daughter without him. I can accept that but he needs to understand that I never would have succeeded with Teen as long as that sort of manipulation was going on. And now, because Teen's mom has pawned off Teen to someone else, G is angry and has insisted that Teen move back in. When I sent Teen to move back in with her mom, I knew she wouldn't last there very long and would be back home with us but I never imagined this. It hasn't even been two days and Teen was at a friend's house. Even though I know G felt he had no choice and he felt he was doing the best thing for his daughter, I don't know if I agree. A part of me wishes he grabbed Teen and marched her right back to her mom's house and forced them both to take responsibility for their actions. The other part of me feels sorry for Teen. I'm sure she's feeling that she is not wanted by anyone, that she doesn't belong anywhere. I don't know what was right but I know that by G bringing Teen back this quickly he essentially has now done the same thing Teen's mom did. He has cut me at the knees and I feel betrayed. I feel defeated and alone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as I can see nothing has been learned and nothing has changed. Teen's mom has skirted around her responsibility. Teen has learned nothing other than she can lie and not face any consequences. G says he's going to be all over her and on top of it all. {insert raised eyebrow here} all good intentions aside, he can't. I know my husband and I know his weaknesses. So does Teen and she'll bulldoze right over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope for G's and Teen's sake that I am wrong. But for now, I'm still mad. I'm still hurt. I'm still not ready to forgive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-978438016332655141?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/978438016332655141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=978438016332655141' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/978438016332655141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/978438016332655141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/10/accountability.html' title='Accountability'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3975649914228282626</id><published>2009-09-29T11:58:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T12:12:53.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Words by AJ</title><content type='html'>Since AJ's last doctor's appointment &lt;a href="http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/still-bobble-head.html"&gt;Still a Bobble Head&lt;/a&gt; we've made some progress on the word count. We've surpassed the 10-20 words that he should have been saying and we're on our way to reaching 50. I must say, it's been very fun trying to figure out what he's trying to say...a bit of a mystery game, not to mention oh so very cute! He seems to be catching on to words easier too...G taught him how to say "football" almost immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ’s words&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ne na´ – Seena&lt;br /&gt;2. nana – nana&lt;br /&gt;3. anana – banana&lt;br /&gt;4. daddee - daddy&lt;br /&gt;5. no nie – not nice (with raised pointed finger)&lt;br /&gt;6. pee pee – penis, pee&lt;br /&gt;7. tuck – truck&lt;br /&gt;8. ball – ball&lt;br /&gt;9. Nose – Nose&lt;br /&gt;10. Daa – hot dog&lt;br /&gt;11. Mama – mom&lt;br /&gt;12. ba by – bye bye&lt;br /&gt;13. hi – hi&lt;br /&gt;14. Noo – no&lt;br /&gt;15. babas – warm milk in sippy cup&lt;br /&gt;16. gogut – yogurt&lt;br /&gt;17. ckee – cookie&lt;br /&gt;18. Dun – done&lt;br /&gt;19. Mine – Mine&lt;br /&gt;20. Ma – more, mas&lt;br /&gt;21. boon – balloon&lt;br /&gt;22. booball - football&lt;br /&gt;24. aba - agua, drink&lt;br /&gt;25. bus - bus&lt;br /&gt;26. daa da daa – AJ’s favorite song. ok so this is not an actual word but he says it ALL of the time and it's very cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3975649914228282626?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3975649914228282626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3975649914228282626' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3975649914228282626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3975649914228282626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/words-by-aj.html' title='Words by AJ'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1680990882341909700</id><published>2009-09-28T13:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T13:41:30.825-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping Up</title><content type='html'>Goodness. That is all I can say. Life is busy and I only have one kid in one activity...well, actually two. I realized this morning taht I didn't take my laptop out of it's bag once this weekend. Crazy, crazy, crazy. October "appears" to be a slower month...according to my calendar but I can see that changing pretty quickly. I have to say that I have written on this blog daily...just mentally. For now, since I have a brief ten minutes before my next meeting I will jot down a very funny moment between Seena and G last night:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G is putting Seena down to bed and has just finished reading her a book:&lt;br /&gt;G - quit peeing in your bed.&lt;br /&gt;Seena - you quit smoking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough said...that's my girl :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1680990882341909700?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1680990882341909700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1680990882341909700' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1680990882341909700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1680990882341909700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/keeping-up.html' title='Keeping Up'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6203722688788897041</id><published>2009-09-21T14:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T14:52:01.301-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena Good...Seena Bad</title><content type='html'>We've made it through 2 weeks of school and today was the first day Seena did not tear up when I left...Seena Good. But perhaps that was because I was actually &lt;strong&gt;IN&lt;/strong&gt; the classroom to show her where the bathroom was....Seena Bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seena Good&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena seems to like school. She still hasn't talked about meeting a bunch of new friends yet but she does have a friend from daycare in her class. She recalls most of the details of the day, her instructions from her teacher and anything interesting. She has had all six enrichment classes; PE, Art, Science, Computer, Library and Music. So far her favorites are gym and library?? Not sure how that is right since both times she came home from PE she said it was boring???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a side note, I joined the PTA and at the first meeting I learned that they (we) are trying to put in an Outdoor Science Garden complete with a pond, raised garden boxes and a butterfly garden. Very excited about this!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dance - Finally, finally, finally Seena is up for this and looks forward to it now. Yeah!! The first time I took her she was 3 and she was TERRIFIED. I had to pull her out by the 2nd class. It was so bad. Now, she gets right in. G took her to her first class....I'm devastated that I missed it but I'm sure there will be other times now that she's comfortable with it. From the reports from G she did very well. A lot of running back and forth and jumping and clamoring around in her tap shoes :) Plus she looks adorable in her leotard and tights!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seena Bad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wet shorts are still a problem...everyday and now every night. I've threatened diapers (again) and that stopped it for one day but we had another accident last night. When asked Seena says she's "never" used the bathroom in her class, I'm not sure I believe that 100% but just in case, I walked her to her class this morning and walked her through the whole process of using the bathroom IN the classroom. Hopefully, this will get her going in the right direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1st assessment on letters - not great but Teacher is going to retest her herself in case it was just a "shy" thing. I know it's very early but still I worry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6203722688788897041?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6203722688788897041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6203722688788897041' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6203722688788897041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6203722688788897041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/seena-goodseena-bad.html' title='Seena Good...Seena Bad'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2430058287939789322</id><published>2009-09-16T21:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T22:07:26.253-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Answering Prayers or Playing Jokes...Which is It?</title><content type='html'>I delayed writing this post because I wanted to be a bit calm. See, I did it again. I unleashed the famous Juno Jinx. I either commented or I thought something good. At first I was upset, scared and angry but I've learned from my past emotions and I'm trying to be open minded about why things happen the way they do. A lot of my rationale has to do with my Faith so I'm trying to understand and see the good in my current situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last week I was excited and looking forward to finally having some breathing room again. I dared make grand plans in my head of the all of the fun activities I was going to sign the kids up for, maybe even have a little extra spending money left over for something fun. I know this extra money meant my husband's continued misery at work but he (we) don't have any other options right now. I know he's miserable at his job (hey, I hate my job too) and I feel guilty that I'm (was) looking forward to spending money but it's been such a long time since I've had it, I don't want it taken away. I've had a taste and I now I'm drooling at the mouth for more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To appease my guilty feelings I've been praying. I've been praying for G to find something that makes him happy and worthy. Um, the last time I prayed for this G got the restaurant and look where I am now. Hmmm. I pray this same prayer again, and now G is facing a layoff in two weeks. So what does this mean now? I was hoping to at least have something lined up first. So, again, what does this mean? Is this a joke...haha on me....or as the good ole Joel Olsteen says "there is river of good fortune heading my way, just be patient". Yeah, I listen to him occasionally....he's entertaining and it makes me feel a little less guilty for not going to church if I listen to him for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've decided to do as I've been doing...have faith. Have faith this is meant to be and to adjust accordingly. I suppose God answered half of my prayer, he gave G an out...now we just need to find the new "in".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2430058287939789322?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2430058287939789322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2430058287939789322' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2430058287939789322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2430058287939789322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/answering-prayers-or-playing-jokeswhich.html' title='Answering Prayers or Playing Jokes...Which is It?'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5805155270266132883</id><published>2009-09-12T09:03:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-12T09:36:14.950-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Week in Review</title><content type='html'>Wow, what a week! And this is before any of the real activities have started. Even though it's been busy...not hectic yet...but just a constant steady busy, it's been a good week. A nice change of pace. I like this pace, I do better in this pace. Since I really couldn't do a daily blog I will wrap up this week in one post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First day of School&lt;br /&gt;Surprisingly went very well minus the crying. I stuck to my schedule - which required me to get up at 5:15am to make sure Teen gets out the door on time and to get in a run before the little ones woke up. Unfortunately, I didn't manage to go running on the first day because it was raining but I at least got up and got dressed to go running ;). Seena and AJ did well...no big fights from either of them. After dropping of AJ at daycare, I came back and met G and Seena for our first walk to school. It was really sweet. When it was time to say goodbye I could feel the tears instantly flowing out of my eyes. Of course Seena didn't help. She was clinging on to me begging to go home with me. She has this heart wrenching pout, add that to her throwing her arms around my neck and burying her face in my neck while crying just made me lose all self-control I had. I buried my head in her shoulders and cried like a baby. G even got teary eyed a few times. After our emotional goodbyes we watched our little girl walk away to her first day of kindergarten. I'm so proud of her, I know she was so scared but she kept herself grounded and followed the rest of the class. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After school, we got, what I thought, was a pretty decent recount of her first day until I called Nana. After a quick debrief, ML (6 year old cousin) got on the phone and you would have thought my 5 year old warped into a babbling teenager. Seena proceeded to tell ML all kinds of things, who was in her class, what she did at recess, what the boys did at recess, what she ate, what she wore ...it went on and on. It was very entertaining but at the same time I'm thinking..."come on - I just lost her to kindergarten PLEASE don't speed this growing-up thing any faster than it needs to".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the week, though uneventful for the most part other than car-pooling, back-to-school night etc., was very good. I'm a little hesitant to say that things may be turning around for us for fear of jinxing it but this week has been full of good things and good news; a potential new job for me, getting the car choice that I want if I stay at my current job, financially things turning out in our favor (potentially), court hearing going very well and Teen getting a call back from an agency that I sent pictures to months ago for an audition. I really do hope it lasts. I even learned that I'm Teen's Role Model....who would have ever guessed :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5805155270266132883?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5805155270266132883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5805155270266132883' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5805155270266132883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5805155270266132883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/week-in-review.html' title='Week in Review'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7538971436229936545</id><published>2009-09-07T21:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-07T22:35:31.338-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Going to School</title><content type='html'>After Seena was born my mom told me that she was worried about me being a mom. She worried that I would need "help" taking care of a baby. I can understand why she felt that way...I never really displayed any gaga feelings about having kids or kids in general...that was always my sister. I never really showed too much emotion about kids...didn't get what all of the commotion was about. Of course, I knew I wanted them and I wanted them sooner than later but other than that I didn't think I was going to be the mushy mom that I SO AM NOW. It's crazy, it really is. Kids change you. Mine have changed me. I used to only want 3 (which I have now) but now I want more. I want a whole house full and I want to be around kids and do things for them. I've been brainwashed by kid mania!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mushiness has crept up on me. I was super emotional when I first had Seena but after that the whole mess with her apnea and RSV, I was ok. I calmed down for awhile. I didn't get emotional over daycare, I didn't get emotional about going back to work, I didn't get as emotional about having another baby, I definitely wasn't the crazy freak that I was with Seena with AJ. I've been much more relaxed there. And as Seena got older, I didn't get the emotional business of going to kindergarten. When I went to register her, I didn't get emotional...I was actually afraid that I wouldn't at all. Does that make me a bad mommy? Some people I know cried at registration. Why didn't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as the day approaches I've been feeling the twinge of tears lurking in my eyes. I know Seena going to school is driving my wanting another baby. I don't want her to grow up. I don't want her to go to school. I don't. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, the tears came. They came the day I had kindergarten orientation. They came all today just thinking that tomorrow was it. Tomorrow she's officially in school. And of course it didn't make it easier when we were getting ready for bed she looked up at me and said she was scared. Talk about pulling at your heart strings!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I mustered up all of my super mommy strength and talked about all of the great things she'll do in school, that it's ok that she's scared, we talked about how all of the other kids are scared too because it's their first day too and we even talked about how lucky she was that she had a friend already in the class. And then I thought I would be a real super mom and tell her that I would be with her in her heart and if she ever got scared at school to close her eyes and she would see mommy smiling at her, telling her it was ok. Her response "that's not real mommy". That's pretend". And the little booger laughed. So much for that tender moment :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7538971436229936545?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7538971436229936545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7538971436229936545' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7538971436229936545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7538971436229936545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/going-to-school.html' title='Going to School'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2364357673649173314</id><published>2009-09-01T22:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T22:41:56.493-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just So I Won't Forget</title><content type='html'>I know I've complained about not getting enough sleep and that AJ wakes up randomly every other night blah, blah, blah. I know it will pass and I will get my full night sleep one day blah, blah, blah. Why I'm choosing to write about this is because last night AJ did the sweetest thing, I think at least. Since we've moved AJ into a big bed, he's progressed from crying out from his bed to getting up and coming to my door and crying out. It never mattered to him what time it was...but last night was different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 3:47am I felt the slightest tap on my arm. I opened up my eyes and there was my sweet boy looking at me with his sweet eyes. There is nothing significant about this but yet to me it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as he saw that my eyes were opened...he cried out. I didn't say it was a long moment...just a sweet second moment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grabbed my pillows, turned off my alarm and headed to his room. We snuggled up, he grabbed my arm, wrapped it around him and he held it there for.....yep, another sweet second. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still trying to hold on to the honeymoom :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2364357673649173314?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2364357673649173314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2364357673649173314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2364357673649173314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2364357673649173314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/09/just-so-i-wont-forget.html' title='Just So I Won&apos;t Forget'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5954368847585098151</id><published>2009-08-22T19:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T19:58:01.326-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sports Rule</title><content type='html'>In my house sports rule. However, between G and I we are rivals. G likes Dallas, I like the Redskins. G likes the Tarheels and I like Virginia Tech. The latter is not that big of a deal except when it comes to where our children will be going to school. Since I am the ruler of most things in the house, G has decided he will be the ruler in the sports chosing of the kids. Therefore, he has laid out the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Teen - since Teen is his biological daughter and she adores him, she does and likes anything he likes, therefore, she is automatically a Dallas and Tarheels fan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena - This one is mine. I've brainwashed her to like the Redskins. He has tried to convince her that that is the wrong team and she has argued back that she can like both. That's my girl. I've also stated that she will be attending Va Tech. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ - because he is the boy, and only boy, G assumes he gets all sports rights with him. We'll see....AJ is a bit of a mama's boy :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that it is preseason football the smack talk has begun. I surprised G today with AJ wearing a redskins cap and Seena is cheering for them to win tonight. Whether I am a true fan or not, as G likes to argue, that is not the point. The point is in the fun of the smack talk and heating up the blue blood that runs through my husband's body. It really is so much fun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I've got good sportsmanship. I do know when I have lost. I know I have lost Teen and most likely will lose AJ to Carolina or Dallas but I can always count on my baby girl to come through. Tonight after sticking to her guns about liking the Skins, G attempted to see who were some of her other "favorite" teams:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;G - Sweetie, who is your favorite basketball team?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena - Troy Bolton's team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my girl!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5954368847585098151?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5954368847585098151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5954368847585098151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5954368847585098151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5954368847585098151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/sports-rule.html' title='Sports Rule'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-8075600680025027821</id><published>2009-08-20T13:39:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T13:56:57.942-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Turned Out the Lights?</title><content type='html'>I've been a little MIA these days because I think I'm skirting around another funk. But this one is different...I think it's more related to my health instead of my emotional state. I'm tired, unmotivated and lacking energy...all of the time. This will need some further investigating. Plus, there really hasn't been too much going on other than attending a million birthday parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, back to our somewhat regularly scheduled program....I bring to you another Seena Rule of Thumb. As I mentioned before Seena is pretty well aware of being green and trying to do "her" part to save the earth. The one area that we have always had difficulty with is the lights in her room. She has to sleep with them on. It doesn't matter how many night lights she has in the room, the lights have to be on. Of course we turned them off when she goes to sleep but evidently, at some point in the middle of the night, she senses them off and turnes them back on. We finally had a sit down about this and we've come to the following solution....according to Seena:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are not allowed to turn off the lights until she falls asleep for the 2nd time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because the first time she falls asleep is not real.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-8075600680025027821?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/8075600680025027821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=8075600680025027821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8075600680025027821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/8075600680025027821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/who-turned-out-lights.html' title='Who Turned Out the Lights?'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2326765586578468250</id><published>2009-08-15T20:56:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T21:11:55.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bite Me</title><content type='html'>Yesterday AJ got bit in the back at daycare because he tried sitting on some kid's lap while they were reading books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got the incident report and the note said"took away from each other and talked with them to be nice with each other".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally, I am very, very, very pleased with AJ's toddler class but this bothered me a little. AJ has been in this class for 4 months now. &lt;strong&gt;Many times&lt;/strong&gt; the teachers have told me how much AJ loves books and how he sits in their laps while they read to the rest of the kids. I've also told them &lt;strong&gt;several times&lt;/strong&gt; the reason why AJ does that is because that is how I read to him. I sit indian style and he plops himself right on my lap and we read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, please tell me why my son was "scolded" for doing what he thought was a totally natural thing. If the biting hadn't happened, I would have thought it was cute. And I understand why the kid bit AJ. I'm not annoyed by that but I'm annoyed that my son was treated like he did something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like I said, I am normally very pleased with this class and the teachers. AJ loves it too. I'm hoping that this is an isolated incident and that the teachers are &lt;strong&gt;really&lt;/strong&gt; paying attention as oppose to just telling me they are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2326765586578468250?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2326765586578468250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2326765586578468250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2326765586578468250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2326765586578468250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/bite-me.html' title='Bite Me'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6432732743485147183</id><published>2009-08-13T07:24:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T08:04:58.452-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wet Shorts</title><content type='html'>Wet shorts. Everyday for the last week. So far our record is 6 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;undie&lt;/span&gt; changes in one day. 6! And that was within the last 2 months. I don't get it. The only answers I get from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; is either "i don't know", "I didn't feel it" or "I didn't want to stop playing". I understand the playing - I get that. But I don't understand why she does it when we're at home doing nothing and the bathroom is literally right next to her. Is it an attention thing? Regression? I don't know. All I do know is that it's very frustrating....not to mention the extra loads of laundry this causes me to do during the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What worries me even more though is that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; is starting Kindergarten in less than a month. I don't want her to be ridiculed for this. I've been to the doctor and was told I need to retrain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; to feel the sensation and also to "hold it" longer so that her bladder gets bigger. His suggestion. Give her a lot of water. A lot. And then make her go to the bathroom every hour and to hold it for a count of 5. Do this for a few days and then make your way up to every fours and to hold it for a count of 30.  Fun. Does he not realize that how difficult that will be? I guess we must do what we have to do.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; knows this upsets me and I've caught her trying to hide it a few times. I've stopped getting angry since this has obviously not gotten me anywhere but I can't hide  the looks of frustration. I suppose Seena sees this and tries to "make up" for it. Seena peed in her bed last night (which surprisingly doesn't happen as often as she pees during the day) but instead of notifying me of this she took it upon herself to fix the situation. I spied on her and watched her calmly take off the sheets of her bed, get a new set of sheets - including the fitted one, made the bed - including the fitted sheet and she pulled out a new comforter since hers was wet too. I also heard her whisper the steps to herself- from pulling off the sheets to putting the sheets in the dirty. After she was done she settled down to read some books and I snuck downstairs. I felt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;guilty&lt;/span&gt; spying on her and I didn't want to ruin her moment when she would announce that she made her bed all by herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which she did. And was very proud about it. How can you be upset over that? I guess you can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today we will embark on our journey of wet short freedom. If you need me I'll be on potty patrol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6432732743485147183?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6432732743485147183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6432732743485147183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6432732743485147183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6432732743485147183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/wet-shorts.html' title='Wet Shorts'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-714989560113062558</id><published>2009-08-09T09:15:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T10:21:15.129-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena Update</title><content type='html'>Seena had her official 5 year physical this past week. Getting ready for school. Kindergarten. I can't believe it. As sad as I am, I'm actually excited about this new milestone in her life as well as my own. We're approaching almost a year since I changed my position at work and the restaurant closing. I know I have said this a million times but I am at peace. I am truly happy where I am right now. It took me awhile to get here but I love my life. I am beginning to understand and accept that I'm really not that interested in being a highly successful career woman. It's funny, I always thought that I would be but I also knew I wanted to be a family mom. I do miss my old job occasionally. I miss the office chit chats and I definitely miss the traveling but I know I could never go back, at least not for a long time. My job now is just that, a job. A job I need to have to support my family. But that's where it ends. My real job, the job I love, is being a mom and a wife. But this job has also given me something else. Time. Time that I hope that I will use wisely. Now that Seena is entering Kindergarten and Teen is entering High School, I want to be involved. I want to volunteer, join the PTA, the whole works. I've already informed Teen that everyone at her school is going to know who her mama is! And it doesn't end there...I have a yearning, a deep desire to do more but since the original intent of this blog entry was about Seena and not about me, I will have to save that for later. Moving on....an update on Seena:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weight - 43lbs - 75%&lt;br /&gt;Height - 43 inches - 50%&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good news - she's doing great. She's just where she needs to be.&lt;br /&gt;Not really bad news but for a split second in our appointment my heart dropped and tears immediately welled up in my eyes. The doctor detected a heart murmur. An innocent one, thank goodness. I know this is over dramatizing the situation but when it comes to the health of my babies, I am a big baby. I can't deal with it. It is my weakness. I've already been through the fear of laying next to your baby in the hospital praying and waiting for them to get better. My two experiences have been small, tiny even, in comparison to the enormity of what other parents are going through, but still it is my weakness. But she's fine and will be fine. There is nothing to worry about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fun Seena Tidbits:&lt;br /&gt;-Twice now, I have been lectured on when it's ok to turn off the nights in her room at night. The first time I let her go on and on because I thought it was hilarious. And I thought she would have forgotten. But that is not so. Just the other day I got the lecture again. "Mommy, I told you. You are not suppose to turn off the lights after the 1st time I go to sleep. You have to wait until I fall asleep the 2nd time."&lt;br /&gt;-Seena told me yesterday that she's been praying to God to help her stop peeing in her pants. "Mommy, I've been saying - God please, please, please let me feel it in time to pee". And as a thank you, she is making a card for God.&lt;br /&gt;-Seena also informed that the wish she's been saying to the stars is not coming true - her wish to fly.&lt;br /&gt;-Seena LOVES to sing. I sooooo wish I had a tape recorder. She sang for at least 30-45 minutes straight yesterday. She sings while she plays with her dolls and the dolls act out her singing. Yesterday it was mix of song and actions from Ariel and High School Musical 2. ***sidebar- Seena is singing now....about cleaning up her crayons.*** Maybe she'll be a song writer!&lt;br /&gt;-As much as I want Seena to go into dance, she may be better at gymnastics. She may have a knack for it. She's basically taught herself how to do a cartwheel/round-off. It's her specialty that she loves to show-off.&lt;br /&gt;-Seena loves to draw, color and is often drawing pictures for her loved ones. She's actually getting pretty good.&lt;br /&gt;-We're still having issues with tantrums but I think it's getting better. I am finding there is some jealousy but it's more geared towards me. It's mommy only time that she seems to want and we're making some changes to make that happen.&lt;br /&gt;-Seena, just like her father, cannot be rushed. This makes her very angry. As I am a struggling procrastinator, this makes for a very ugly combination.&lt;br /&gt;-Seena, like me, is bossy and likes to plan the entire day for herself and everyone else. G informed me of this last night, when Seena told him the order of activities for the evening.&lt;br /&gt;-Like me, she loves to be goofy. Something I need to embrace a little bit more.&lt;br /&gt;-But most of all Seena loves being a sister to her brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5 - I still can't believe it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-714989560113062558?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/714989560113062558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=714989560113062558' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/714989560113062558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/714989560113062558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/seena-update.html' title='Seena Update'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-497813472979215794</id><published>2009-08-05T14:18:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T14:34:25.768-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena is Only 5</title><content type='html'>I've realized that I tend to believe that Seena can comprehend logic as if she was 15. I forget that she's only 5 and has a brain/attention span of just that. This is most evident when we are arguing and I'm trying to explain the reason(s) of why something is the way it is, why we are fighting, who started it, what is going to happen blah, blah, blah. Keep it simple stupid. KISS. I need to remember that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But also, I need to remember this in other situations, such as, explaining ticks. What I thought was going to be a quick explanation of why we look for ticks and what they feel like so that she can tell me if there is one on her turned into a long discussion of why this and why that. How do they get on you? Where do they live? Can they get in the house? What does it look like? Does it hurt? Do you get sick? Do you die? Do they suck your blood? Do they suck all of your blood? How do you get more blood? Does God make more blood to put in your body?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, good ole God.  I actually did not give credit to God on this one. I told her the truth...that her own body makes more blood. Thank goodness this was the last question and she asked me as we were walking out of the bathroom from taking a bath so that G could witness the never ending questions that he never seems to get. And of course, that God was the ultimate "fixer". The look he gave me when she asked if God made more blood was priceless :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-497813472979215794?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/497813472979215794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=497813472979215794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/497813472979215794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/497813472979215794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/seena-is-only-5.html' title='Seena is Only 5'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1075137922237400261</id><published>2009-08-03T22:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T22:32:46.878-04:00</updated><title type='text'>God Is The Creator, Maker, Teacher Of All Things...Even Sidewalks</title><content type='html'>Seena is at that point where she's really beginning to question things. I remember a few months ago she asked me a random question about something, like, "what are clouds". I explained it to her and then she asked how I knew that. I explained that I learned it from my teacher when I went to school. Then she asked how that teacher learned it and it went on from there for at least two more layers of "who taught THAT teacher". I finally told her that God taught the very first teacher and she taught the other teachers. So now God teaches everyone everything and also makes everything. I really did not mean for that to happen but how else do I explain where sidewalks come from?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1075137922237400261?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1075137922237400261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1075137922237400261' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1075137922237400261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1075137922237400261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/08/god-is-creator-maker-teacher-of-all.html' title='God Is The Creator, Maker, Teacher Of All Things...Even Sidewalks'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-9074008743008877765</id><published>2009-07-30T09:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T12:04:37.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Danger Lurks in Even Mere Seconds</title><content type='html'>I've always wondered how kids can drown in public pools with lifeguards at watch. I've always wondered how things can happen in seconds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I witnessed (almost) both this past weekend. And once again, my guardian angel was there with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seena had a b-day party at a friend's pool this past weekend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first incident was with another boy we’ll call BoyL. He’s 5 and has taken swimming lessons. He was not in a life vest but was still relying on pool noodles to keep him afloat. His dad was also in the water with him. Thankfully the dad was there because another boy thought it would be fun to hang on the back of BoyL right at the precise moment that he let go of his noodle. As you can imagine BoyL immediately went underwater and could not get back up because of his friend holding on (who was wearing a lifevest). Thank goodness the father was there to see this and immediately swam over to help. Aside from being scared BoyL was fine and well, clung to his dad’s neck for the next hour. I wonder, had the father not been in the water, how long would it have been before someone noticed. BoyL’s mom was watching constantly but from the angle where we were sitting, I don’t know if she would have seen BoyL under his friend. So, so, so  scary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moving on to Seena’s story. Seena has not taken swim lessons and requires a lifevest. She knows this, well, I thought she did. After an eating break Seena decided she wanted to get back in the pool. I watched her walk over to a friend (who was less than 4 feet across from me to my left) and try to convince her to go in. While this was going on, I looked over to right and began talking to BoyL’s mom. I honestly don’t know how I could have missed it. One second, Seena was to the left of BoyL’s mom and the next she was in the pool without a vest, flaying her arms around and looking at me with a look of sheer terror in her eyes. I will never forget that face. I never saw her get in the water. What made me look was a sudden move another mother made towards to the pool. Or maybe it was a sound she made. I don’t know. I just know I looked towards the pool and there Seena was, in the pool, under the water, without the vest. Her eyes wide with fear. Thank goodness the other mom saw her get in and was already trying to pull her out. I jumped out of my chair and was poolside in a split second pulling my precious girl out of the water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seconds. All of this happened within seconds. Not minutes. Seconds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m thankful, again for my guardian angel for watching over us again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’m thankful for the parents that were there at that party. These kids have grown up together through daycare since they were at least 1 years old, these same kids go to the same b-day parties and all of the parents know each other. So, it’s comforting knowing that our kids are being watched by so many parents at all times. Some were lurking around the edges of the pool, others were in the water and the rest were keeping a watch from patio chairs. Regardless of where the parents were, everyone was watching, taking care of each other’s kids. It’s comforting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is especially comforting to me because I was a little peeved at two incidences from the weekend prior that was the complete opposite. Parents not watching, not taking responsibility for their own kids and not offering to help knowing that there could have been a potential problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incident 1 happened at McD’s. I took the kids on a Friday evening because it’s family night and they give away a free happy meal. So it was a little crowded. Now, I know my son is probably not the right age to go tromping through the play tunnels at McD’s but the boy is not afraid of anything and had absolutely no problems with climbing up the steps and going down the tunnel slide. And Seena was with him, taking very good care of him I might add. The problem came when two older girls came in to play. All of the other kids knew how to play nice but not these girls.  They began to play tag in the tunnels and down the slide. They were playing extremely rough and they were screaming. SCREAMING at the top of their lungs. I’m looking around for their parents to see if they were going to do anything about this but no, they are nowhere to be found. Each time the one particular girl came down the tunnel, barreling over AJ and Seena, I gave her piercing looks. She saw me and she looked at me every time she came down the slide. She knew she was being too rough. I finally couldn’t take it anymore and asked her to play gently because there were smaller and younger children in the tunnel slide. No improvement. I then actually yelled at the kid. I couldn’t take it anymore. Where the hell were the parents?? Oh, they were sitting somewhere else in the restaurant…not in the kid section. They had no idea what these kids were doing. Infuriating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Incident #2 happened at a park. This particular park is not like the typical neighborhood park. It’s huge and it has TONS of playground equipment and some of them are very large. The floor is not mulched but the rubbery mat stuff. At a typical park I can stand at the bottom of the equipment and circle around it in a few steps to make sure AJ doesn’t decide to go down a pole or jump off a ledge that is way too high for him. This is not the case at this park. The equipment AJ and Seena were playing on was very big and it sprawled over a large area. I tried following them around on the equipment but it was easier to follow AJ around by staying on the ground….until he gets on the ground himself. Since the bugger is only 2 feet tall he can run under all of the steps, platforms and bridges of the equipment. I unfortunately cannot, so I have to find my way around by walking on the outside of everything. And considering how large this play equipment was, that was not easy. Again, let me remind you that my son is NOT afraid of anything and wants to do everything Seena does. After coming down some slides I see them both running off under everything and I try to follow them (quickly) by making my way around everything. By the time I got to them, AJ was climbing a rounded ladder sort of thing where the rungs are way too far apart for him and he’s already almost to the top. I am freaking out because he could easily have fallen through the rungs and gotten hurt. As I approach to get him I see a mom sitting right next to him under the shade of one of the platforms that AJ was trying to get to by climbing this ladder. Now, I know it’s not her responsibility but I have to admit, I was a little shocked to see her completely ignoring the fact that there was a small boy climbing on something that was potentially dangerous. And it’s not like she didn’t see him. He was right there. So not nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there it is. Danger is lurking around everywhere and can happen in mere seconds. It’s so scary. I know this, I’ve know this but I wish other parents would realize it too. I really do try to do my best but I hope, no I pray, for those seconds that I turn my eyes away or even blink that there is another parent who understands this threat and will be looking when I am not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-9074008743008877765?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/9074008743008877765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=9074008743008877765' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9074008743008877765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/9074008743008877765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/danger-lurks-in-even-mere-seconds.html' title='Danger Lurks in Even Mere Seconds'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-3925840805684749400</id><published>2009-07-26T12:20:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T12:32:37.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Only Girls Can Do The Splits</title><content type='html'>Just another quick Seena observation to share:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday evening as I watched my two bunny rabbits dance to High School Musical 2, Seena began attempting to do the splits. Naturally, AJ tried to copy. Of course neither have the flexibility to actually do the splits but Seena's explanation for AJ not being able to the splits was quite simple:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boys can't do the splits because they have bones in between their legs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she really meant bones, I asked. Twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe she heard the boys at school talking about their "balls" and thought that was strange and decided on her own that they meant to say bones. Because who has balls in between their legs, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-3925840805684749400?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/3925840805684749400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=3925840805684749400' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3925840805684749400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/3925840805684749400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/only.html' title='Only Girls Can Do The Splits'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-25973688757313343</id><published>2009-07-24T08:52:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T22:22:20.293-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sassy Seena</title><content type='html'>My little princess can change from a sweet loving angel to the meanest, sassiest brat in a mere millisecond. It's quite unbelievable. I'm trying to figure out when and why it started but I think I've pinned it down to when I was on bedrest when she was 3 1/2. For a good two months Seena spent many days just laying around watching TV and trying to entertain herself while I sat on the couch with laptop and phone attached to my body at all times. This was also the beginning of our family’s "dark time" and so with the mix of prego hormones and the stress of the restaurant, I was a terrible mess. It was dreadful and I can understand her acting out as a result of it. But the problem is, she never grew out of it. Even after AJ was born and she turned 4, I thought for sure it would be different but no, the attitude and sassiness just got worse...and probably, now that I think of it, because of me. My stress level with dealing with the restaurant, raising an infant, working full time and dealing with a teen, literally put me over the edge. I was constantly in a sour mood, angry all of the time and barking orders at everyone. It was a very ugly side of me and unfortunately Seena saw it and may have acquired it. I have since seen the wrong of my ways and have been doing my best to keep improving. I even tried taking "chill pills" but that lasted for 2-3 days. I just couldn't do it. I think I've come out of my funk slowly but successfully on my own. At the end of 2008 I looked back and realized how fast the year had gone by and I couldn't recall anything significant about it - other than AJ being born. We didn't go anywhere, we didn't visit with friends....nothing. So, I made a vow to not let that happen again. Maybe the boringness of our lives was getting to her....I know it would be for me. So, I changed it up. We're busy now with stuff.  Nothing significant but just that we’re constantly moving. And it's helping on some levels but goodness sake, her attitude is beyond anything I would have imagined. Just the other day, I went in to wake her up. I very cheerily said, "Good morning sweetie, time to get up, we have to go to school early today." What I got in return was: "No, I'm tired. Go away. I want to be alone." Now, perhaps I should know better because my girls have acquired daddy genes as oppose to mommy genes, and daddy is a monster in the morning. Plus, this was not the normal routine; normally Seena wakes up on her own. But either way, it was not very nice and quite frankly, that's how she talks to me a lot. Something is always my fault, she yells at me, screams at me, deliberately does the opposite of what I've asked her to do and talks back to me as if she was a teenager. It can be very frustrating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've tried to see if it's a jealous thing but she loves her brother. She loves helping him and taking care of him. And I think I do a pretty good job of dividing up my time and attention. She has told me on or two occasions that I do "everything" for AJ and that I'm always with AJ. But both times have been during one of her meltdowns over something that was not possible for the time being so I took it with a grain of salt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to see if it's something I'm doing to trigger it and, yes, I can say that I've probably on a few small occasions been at fault. It's usually over something that I want to go my way but my stubborn sassypants wants her way. Naturally a fight starts. And at that point, I can't back down because I struggle with the "pick your battles" mentality or "if I let her get away with whining and yelling at me this time over this thing she'll keep doing it" mentality. Which is right? G gets on my case about arguing with her and he's right but that's easier said than done. Oh, and if I'm going to be accepting blame on some level, I should confess that I do cut her off quite a bit. I know for a fact that gets her super angry. But she repeats herself and tries to continue the whining request or the explanation over and over again. It's gotten to the point she yells at me to let her finish or to let her talk. I, again, seeing the wrong of my ways by this particular behavior, am making efforts to improve and I explain to her that I will let her talk IF she talks about something else. That never happens and immediately the falling to the ground squirming tantrum begins. Is this still normal for a 5 year old? And apparently family, grandparents and all, are the only ones privileged to witness the sassiness. Seena’s not like this at school. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. Everyday is a struggle with the attitude but when it's not there, Seena is wonderful. Beyond wonderful. She's thoughtful, caring, imaginative and loving. She gets raving reports from her teachers. So, why me, why just us? Is this just another growing pain parents have to go through?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dear blogger friend posted about the ugly side of being a mom and it’s so true.  I hate the thoughts that go racing through my mind when we’re in the middle of a fight and I hate the words that come out of my mouth when we’re fighting. It’s ugly and I hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all, I hate that I may be the one that caused it all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to fix this, I have to fix this….I just wish I knew how.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-25973688757313343?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/25973688757313343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=25973688757313343' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/25973688757313343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/25973688757313343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/sassy-seena.html' title='Sassy Seena'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2346802537080120514</id><published>2009-07-22T10:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T10:46:15.786-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Honeymoon is Over</title><content type='html'>I think my son is over it and I'm heartbroken. No longer am I getting the excited, happy to see mommy run with open arms greeting at daycare and we've stopped cuddling in the morning because he is actually sleeping somewhat in and I'm actually trying to be productive again prior to 7am. I've been replaced by a much funner older sister, a cute cuddly dog and a soft blankie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart is broken because:&lt;br /&gt;- he goes into Seena's room first when he wakes up, whether it's in the middle of the night or in the morning. (I learned this the other morning when Seena walked AJ into my room to inform me that he was up at 4:00am and was in her room).&lt;br /&gt;- he runs away from me&lt;br /&gt;- he cuddles with his dog and blankie&lt;br /&gt;- I no longer get the spoon. Instead - if I'm lucky- I get a weird angled drape over my body, with legs and arms flaying around. I really don't enjoy this too much because I'm usually having to dodge the flaying arms and legs.&lt;br /&gt;- I only get attention if he's hungry or needs something, and it's not always a sweet request. It's usually whining, grunting and/or holding onto both of my legs so that I cannot walk and therefore cannot get what he wants which leads to more whining and grunting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew this day would come but why so soon :(&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361294690533979250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SmclHZ13NHI/AAAAAAAAAGw/y4zAsobu0iw/s320/mom+and+aj.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mommy in clear denial of cuddle time enjoyment by both parties.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Maybe he's mad because he needs a haircut.....badly. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2346802537080120514?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2346802537080120514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2346802537080120514' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2346802537080120514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2346802537080120514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/honeymoon-is-over.html' title='The Honeymoon is Over'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/SmclHZ13NHI/AAAAAAAAAGw/y4zAsobu0iw/s72-c/mom+and+aj.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-7346164631025039345</id><published>2009-07-21T07:35:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T08:04:40.706-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Still a Bobble Head</title><content type='html'>My son is still a bobble head (I hope I'm spelling that right). AJ had his 18 month appointment yesterday and his statistics are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weight - 25 lbs. 11 oz --- 50 percentile&lt;br /&gt;height - 32 7/8 inches --- 75 percentile&lt;br /&gt;Head - 50.5 inches --- 97 percentile&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awesome. And he desperately needs a haircut, so he's looking extra top heavy these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As far as development, AJ is doing very well, except for the language. He should be saying 10-20 words but I don't think he is. He definitely has Ball down. In fact any round object is a ball and he loves pointing that out. Other words he says; baba (milk), aba (agua for water), daddeeee and that actually may be it. He does use his sign language skills to tell me he wants more food and he shakes his head for "no" if he's done. But I honestly can't think of any other words he can say that I can decipher as an attempt for a real word. According to Dr. G (real doctor not my G), he should be saying 50 words by the time he's two. I've got some work to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He understands everything. I can tell him to get things and he will. He understands cleaning up, go outside, cheez cheez (sleep time), etc. and can point things out on himself or in books, but he's not saying much. Well, that's not true....he talks, a lot, but it's all AJ talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ is becoming more a boy. Is really starting to get into cars - and making the sounds associated with cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's starting to beat up on his sister. At least once a day he's hitting her with something. Yesterday it was with a naked barbie. I wonder if this is his way of telling me he needs some boy toys :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AJ still LOVES, LOVES, LOVES, LOVES to dance. The second any musical tune comes on he's up bouncing, stomping his feet and clapping. He loves to mimic my awesome car dance moves too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son is also fearless. He's not scared of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;any&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; playground equipment. Doesn't matter what it is, how high it is or how far apart the "stepping" bars are - he's all over it. Or at least tries to climb, jump, drop, whatever before I can reach him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for discipline - the tantrums are starting. He definitely gets angry when things are taken away from him. And he's been introduced to time-out. Dr. G, time-outs are ok. AJ's time outs are usually following food throwing (excessive food throwing) or hitting his sister. The problem is, he thinks it's a game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And one more thing...AJ loves to help his dad on those rare moments my precious G decides to flash his handy man skills. It usually involves AJ all up in G's grill observing and/or wanting to help with his "tools". My favorite so far was just this past weekend. G decided he wanted to switch his "movie room" with kids playroom. This involved moving a lot of furniture and items. AJ, the tiny tool man that he is, of course wanted to help and tried so hard to push the heaviest piece of furniture in the room. We couldn't let his efforts be wasted so we made sure he was "placed" appropriately so he could help push the furniture around. It was so stinkin' cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-7346164631025039345?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/7346164631025039345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=7346164631025039345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7346164631025039345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/7346164631025039345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/still-bobble-head.html' title='Still a Bobble Head'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-2566869064191797821</id><published>2009-07-16T07:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T07:53:30.577-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home Sweet Home</title><content type='html'>The paperwork and payment have been received and my house is officially out of foreclosure. Music to my ears...for now. I still have to make two more payments during this "trial period" before my loan gets "officially" modified but either way, my house is out of foreclosure. That is all that matters to me. And good thing, my auction date was Friday, July 17. Of course, I learned of this date by the most embarrassing way possible. I started receiving "advertising mail" from lawyers with the actual clipping from the newspaper of my house, my name, the whole bit. Now, I'm not ashamed that I'm having to go through this; stuff happens in life that you have no control over but it is a little embarrassing to know that there will be people out there reading the paper and will see my name, my auction date but have no idea how I got there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it didn't end there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had real estate agents come to my door offering their help. I even had someone come to my house offering to buy it. Very unpleasant and unsettling. I'm glad it's over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I have my wonderful husband to thank for us still being in our house. If it had been left to me solely, I would have already been moved out, living at my mom's that is already bursting at the seams with my sister's family and other tenants and had the place rented. I had two or three people ready to move in and right at the last minute G refused, refused, refused to let me rent it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so glad I caved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-2566869064191797821?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/2566869064191797821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=2566869064191797821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2566869064191797821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/2566869064191797821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/home-sweet-home.html' title='Home Sweet Home'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-1573802503675509674</id><published>2009-07-15T09:20:00.015-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T10:48:15.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena's Party a Success</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The party was Sunday and it's now Wednesday. It has taken me this long to recoup. Boy, I'm getting old. After many long nights last week and only 5 hours of sleep over Friday and Saturday, I've slept like a LOG, ROCK, what have you for the last two nights. It's been AWESOME! My kids have even slept great too. Yeah! So, now back to the party...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The party was overall a great success. Leading up to the event was stressful. I had to wait until payday to do most of the shopping which then meant I couldn't do too much beforehand, the cake was by far the most stressful, followed closely by the goody bags. Seena was actually a great help. She wanted to be a part of it all and she started to understand what the party was about. She actually put most of the goody bags together, filled up the pinata, helped make the flowers for her cake and while I was stressing over finishing the cake, she kept encouraging me that things were going to be ok. My little 5 year old buttercup was telling me, the grown up, not to worry, the party was going to be great. And it was.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Cake&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seena and I have known for months what her cake was going to be. She frequently goes through all of my cake decorating yearbooks and "picks" out cakes she wants. The Princess Castle Cake or "Romantic Castle Cake Set" as it's officially called was number 1 on her list. After looking over the picture and reading the instructions, it really didn't look difficult. It was mainly just assembling all of the pieces. The instructions, of course, list all of the Wilton products needed to assemble the cake, but being the frugal person that I am, I convinced myself that some of those things are not needed and I can improvise. I've taken self-taught cake decorating classes, I know how to make Royal Icing, leaves and drop flowers, I can do this. They may not be perfect but they will be good enough. My goal was to have the flowers done on Thursday evening, since I had to make at least 285 flowers I thought this was a good plan. Not so. I didn't attempt to make the flowers until Friday evening and it was a disaster. My "Royal Icing" was runny and my flowers looked like big blobs. I now start to feel the anxiety. One, for timing and two, I was realizing that I was going to have to buy all of the stuff I was trying NOT to buy for the cake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday morning....I bake the cakes, 2 to be exact. I realize I need another one. So, now I have to go to the grocery store on top of the two craft stores I have to go to to buy the flower making kit and the fondant (making use of 50% of coupons for each store). Oh, I also had to drag my two kids with me because EVERYONE else in my house was still sleeping.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get home. Bake #3 cake. It deflates - big, huge, whopping hole in the middle. NO!!!! Beg and plead G to go to the store for me to buy cake #4. As I begin to bake this 4th cake - I realized that I forgot to add the eggs to the #3 cake...mystery solved. Phew...I was getting worried that I was losing my touch in my cake baking skills. But, this also made me realize that I needed to slow down. I'm rushing and I'm not thinking.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Get ready to make the flowers - ice cake and I realize I bought WAY too much fondant. So, off to the store I go AGAIN, to buy the correct amount.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I get back home and prepare the fondant to make the flowers. This is the point where I'm starting to get really upset at how much money I've spent on this cake. Even with my 50% off coupons, the overall cost was over $35. I could have bought a cake for this same price. I believe this is also the point Seena started reassuring me that this was going to be a great party. But nonetheless, I can't help feeling guilty at how much money I was spending. Was it really all necessary?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, Seena helps with the flower making...which actually turned out to be quite easy and kinda of fun. The kit comes with all kinds of flower cutters so I think Seena and I can practice making some other cool flowers another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3lbH1WgtI/AAAAAAAAAGA/QL5BQKj49QU/s320/DSC05866.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358691385762808530" /&gt;The rest of the cake process...went pretty smoothly. Just took a lot of time. And the top was crooked - so much so that I was afraid the top was going to fall off. But it didn't..phew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3lgxBv6RI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8414bu7N2KI/s320/DSC05870.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358691482720004370" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Goody Bags&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For the record I just want to say, I hate goody bags. I know kids love them but goodness -- this is a ripoff scam. Who needs and wants all of the crap that gets put in them? It all ends up in the trash anyway. So, my philosophy is simple - goody bags are going to be filled with candy and or edible things. Sorry parents, I know it's sugar but this is a birthday party so suck it up, your kids are gettin' loaded with candy at my house. For documentation sake, and because I'm quite proud of how clever I was in my ideas (and Aunt V) both for "cuteness" and cost effectiveness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Snow White - Hershey Kiss&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cinderella - Glass slipper filled with blue jelly beans&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ariel - Swedish Fish&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Jasmine - Fruit Roll-Up (magic carpet)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Belle - fruit snacks&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sleeping beauty - a marshmallow (her pillow)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A sticker and a coloring book I made from printed pictures off the computer&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I even saved on the goody bags by buying clear plastic ones in bulk and decorating them with ribbon. Yeah, for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Course&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The obstacle course was a lot of fun. I had intended for all of the kids to go through the course one-by-one but as soon as I finished giving the instructions all 50 million of them went running to the beginning and they all went at the same time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3lyi-hREI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/_islxrhRtu0/s320/The+Tunnel.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358691788186010690" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Ursula - my Ursula didn't quite turn out how I envisioned it either. I should be grateful that I had a very gracious volunteer to be Ursula but I would have hoped there would have been a little bit more effort put in into the whole production. For starters, she was suppose to be sitting indian style on the table with her legs draped over the sides - as if an octopus was sitting on the table. Then I would have hoped she would have gotten "into character" a little and played it up for the kids. No luck there. Instead I got a teen sitting on a table with funky black things in her hands. She was a big help though - I have to give her that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3l_4TchbI/AAAAAAAAAGY/WcTGQxsouAc/s320/DSC05906.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358692017249224114" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Nevertheless, the whole obstacle course was very cute. The kids had fun, Seena loved being the princess and the parents seemed to have had a good time. One little boy in particular, concentrated so hard on getting everything done correctly. He even rang the doorbell before entering the playhouse. Sooo stinkin' cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3mt2s0u_I/AAAAAAAAAGo/165-SkAWv7M/s320/The+House.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358692807092780018" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After the obstacle course the party went on auto pilot...pizza, pinata, cake and open presents. The party lasted exactly two hours and everyone was gone by 1:00pm. We had the outside cleaned up by 2:00 and AJ and I were down for a nap by 3.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3mKjrufQI/AAAAAAAAAGg/6LIJX7MUtSU/s320/DSC05928.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358692200692481282" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It was a great day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-1573802503675509674?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/1573802503675509674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=1573802503675509674' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1573802503675509674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/1573802503675509674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/seenas-party-success.html' title='Seena&apos;s Party a Success'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Sl3lbH1WgtI/AAAAAAAAAGA/QL5BQKj49QU/s72-c/DSC05866.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-5427869364832427835</id><published>2009-07-10T09:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T10:05:33.540-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Why Do I Open My Mouth?</title><content type='html'>I never learn. I do this to myself all of the time and I never learn. Seena's big b-day is in three days. And yes, I still have a ton to do but I'm not stressed about that so much. I'm stressed at the number of people coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the beginning of the week I was worried that we weren't going to have ANY guests because no one was calling to RSVP. I was worried that the cute scrolled up invitations that Seena and I made together were lost amongst the many art projects and school notices the kids get. So, I did what any good mom would do....I started to ask the parents if they received the invitation. As I thought, they had not. I even went as far as inviting another girl who no longer is even in Seena's class but I am friends with the mom and I felt guilty not inviting her. So, what went from not having many at the party to now I have 16 kids coming plus Seena. Oh, and the parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it doesn't end there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I purposely didn't give an invitation to a little boy in Seena's class because the mom told me they were going to be out of town. This morning as I dropped the kids off, I ran into this mom and to be nice, I asked "oh, so where are you guys vacationing this weekend?" The mom replied, "oh, we're not going now because blah, blah, blah...". This is where I should have stuffed my kids blankies in my mouth and made a B-line for the bathroom. But no, I HAD to open my BIG mouth and say "oh, well, does B want to come to Seena's party then? It's this weekend." WHY! And this particular mom, as well as  the other mom that I invited because I felt guilty, has two other siblings that always tag along. So, if they come, as I suspect they will, that's 4 more kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I don't need to buy them goody bags but I'm starting to stress over the number of actual invitees. As any mom that has planned a party knows, most party items come in sets of 4, 8, and 12. I've been particularly lucky in finding great priced goody bags in a set of 8. If I have the 16 kids, I am at the perfect number in terms of having complete sets. If I get even one more kid I have to buy entire sets of everything and I will end up having a ton left over. And then there’s the question of “do you make any extras just in case.” Of the list of people we invited there are probably at least 7 who haven’t called at all. So either, they are rude or they didn’t get the invitation. I’m not calling them to find out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This probably wouldn’t bother me as much if I was financially ok and could deal with buying a little extra just in case. But no, I’m not there, I’m so not there. Seena’s b-day party could not have fallen on a worst week. To regress for one second, ***good news*** we have prequalified for the Obama plan and we have our first “new” trial mortgage payment due this week. Plus I have the bank loan to pay back – which I am now going to refer to as my “second home” mortgage. I think that sounds much better than having to “pay my mom back”.  So, in order for us to make both of those payments on time, my b-day budget is very, very tight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lesson for me here is, KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT. The more people that come means the more stuff I have to buy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but the fun doesn't end there. They are calling for rain on Sunday. All week it's been BEAUTIFUL! But no, this weekend is going be hot, humid and Sunday now has a 50% chance of thunderstorms. Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued….&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-5427869364832427835?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/5427869364832427835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=5427869364832427835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5427869364832427835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/5427869364832427835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/why-do-i-open-my-mouth.html' title='Why Do I Open My Mouth?'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2389955483407063675.post-6819234126988800049</id><published>2009-07-09T09:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T10:03:22.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seena's Birthday Wish List</title><content type='html'>G finally settled her down and got a full list. These are listed in order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Switch Play (infomercial - ball that flattens into a frisbee?)&lt;br /&gt;2. Rocket Shot (another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;infomercial&lt;/span&gt; - fishing tool)&lt;br /&gt;3. Married Doll&lt;br /&gt;4. Doll with Pink House&lt;br /&gt;5. Polly Pockets&lt;br /&gt;6. Movies, Movies&lt;br /&gt;7. Big Disney Dolls&lt;br /&gt;8. Disney Princess Books&lt;br /&gt;9. Any Princess stuff from Disney Store&lt;br /&gt;10. High School Musical Dolls&lt;br /&gt;11. High School Musical pajamas&lt;br /&gt;12. Disney Princess bathing suit&lt;br /&gt;13. Disney Princess towel&lt;br /&gt;14. KITTEN (written in large letters and all caps)&lt;br /&gt;15. Pool with Polly Pockets&lt;br /&gt;16. Outdoor Pool&lt;br /&gt;17. Crayons&lt;br /&gt;18. Markers&lt;br /&gt;19. Clothes&lt;br /&gt;20. Coloring Book&lt;br /&gt;21. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WII&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me remind you that G helped &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Seena&lt;/span&gt; make this list *ahem #21*.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2389955483407063675-6819234126988800049?l=meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/feeds/6819234126988800049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2389955483407063675&amp;postID=6819234126988800049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6819234126988800049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2389955483407063675/posts/default/6819234126988800049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meinthemotherhood.blogspot.com/2009/07/seenas-birthday-wish-list.html' title='Seena&apos;s Birthday Wish List'/><author><name>Juno Mom</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06215233456077941806</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_rykHEj3YVsc/Se8Yr2RAoyI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQ2Z6a3A-YY/S220/Jessica.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
