<?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-31564460</id><updated>2012-02-16T18:10:57.691-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just the Two of Us...</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;a href="http://lilypie.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lb4f.lilypie.com/9AlBm7.png" width="400" height="80" border="0" alt="Lilypie Fourth Birthday tickers"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7453017951707053035</id><published>2011-08-31T18:11:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T18:26:02.908-07:00</updated><title type='text'>20 Questions</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;On Nevaeh's 3rd birthday last year, I asked her 20 questions about her "favorite" this and that. I had read about the idea somewhere, but the details of that escape me... I asked her the same questions this year and plan to do this every year on her birthday. See below for her responses from last year and this year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;2010 - 3 years old&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite color - orange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite food - mac &amp;amp; cheese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite animal - monkey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite sport - soccer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Best friend - Gracie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite activity - riding bike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite tv show - Caillou&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite book - Dora&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite movie - Sesame Street&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite ice cream flavor - strawberry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite article of clothing - dress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite toy - ball &amp;amp; bat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite restaurant - Paradise Bakery&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;# of kids someday - "just one baby"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Future occupation - builder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What bothers you the most? Big puppies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What does Mom like to do for fun? Look at little puppies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What does Mom do at work? Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite thing to do with Mom - jump up and down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite thing to do with Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa - go to the beach&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2011 - 4 years old&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite color - pink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite food - mac &amp;amp; cheese&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite animal - giraffe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite sport - soccer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Best friend - Gracie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite activity - making art projects&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite tv show - Berenstain Bears&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite book - Curious George&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite movie - Princess and the Frog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite ice cream flavor - strawberry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite article of clothing - dress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite toy - jewelry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite restaurant - Red Robin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;# of kids someday - "um, like 14"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Future occupation - soccer player&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What bothers you the most? Puppies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What does Mom like to do for fun? Hike&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;What does Mom do at work? Work&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite thing to do with Mom - Drive to school&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Favorite thing to do with Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa - go to the park&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7453017951707053035?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7453017951707053035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7453017951707053035' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7453017951707053035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7453017951707053035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2011/08/20-questions.html' title='20 Questions'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7939993854702871682</id><published>2010-07-18T12:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-18T12:32:39.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fudd who?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last week Nevaeh and I went to Fuddruckers so I could get my free birthday burger.  I ordered a kids' meal for Nevaeh and the "treat" at the end was a cookie.  She picked out the M&amp;amp;M cookie but I didn't let her have it that night since I didn't need a sugar high to deal with an hour before bed.  Well, today I realized that the cookie is still sitting on the counter so I told Nevaeh she could have it after she ate lunch.  She said, "Oooohhhhh, did the lady give that to me at Fudge Crackers?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7939993854702871682?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7939993854702871682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7939993854702871682' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7939993854702871682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7939993854702871682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/07/fudd-who.html' title='Fudd who?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-4947948075739983499</id><published>2010-06-29T17:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T17:32:28.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Travel Much?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh officially has more Delta SkyMiles than I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;(Because I recently cashed in 40,000 of mine for my "free" ticket to MN!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-4947948075739983499?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/4947948075739983499/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=4947948075739983499' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4947948075739983499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4947948075739983499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/06/travel-much.html' title='Travel Much?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-4754975256405409296</id><published>2010-02-17T22:39:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T22:52:17.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ear Infection!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well........ After exactly 11 months of no ear infections, Nevaeh was back at the doctor's office today and we found out that both ears are infected.  Her surgery on St. Patty's Day last year resulted in many months of healthiness in our house, even after one ear tube fell out of place after about six or seven months.  But this morning as we drove our usual morning route past the hospital and her ENT's office, she said, "There's my ear doctor -- Mama, I need to get my ears checked.  I go to doctor."  That wasn't the first time I've heard that from her so I brushed it off, even as she held her hand to her left ear.  Besides, I had been talking to her recently about needing to go back to the ENT in another month or so for her 1-year surgery check-up so I assumed she was replaying this conversation in her head.  But sure enough, two hours into my morning meetings and the daycare lady texted to say that Nevaeh had been complaining of ear pain in her left ear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;$63.22 later (sadly, that's after insurance, thanks to the higher copays this year!) and she's resting comfortably in bed -- hopefully for the night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-4754975256405409296?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/4754975256405409296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=4754975256405409296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4754975256405409296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4754975256405409296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/02/ear-infection.html' title='Ear Infection!'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7308027047572856990</id><published>2010-02-12T21:04:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T21:04:33.179-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes it's better not to respond...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"I'm not a sassy mouth... YOU'RE a sassy mouth!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7308027047572856990?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7308027047572856990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7308027047572856990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7308027047572856990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7308027047572856990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/02/sometimes-its-better-not-to-respond.html' title='Sometimes it&apos;s better not to respond...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8576930820190520661</id><published>2010-02-12T17:22:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T17:23:21.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe accounting isn't in the genes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Mama!  I see two balloons.  One.....two......three!  See?  Two balloons!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8576930820190520661?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8576930820190520661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8576930820190520661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8576930820190520661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8576930820190520661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/02/maybe-accounting-isnt-in-genes.html' title='Maybe accounting isn&apos;t in the genes...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-6168317936035682323</id><published>2010-02-01T19:53:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T19:59:28.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepy sleepy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I meant to post these stories last week but of course time slipped away from me.  After a night in her own bed, Nevaeh came into my room one morning and our conversation went like this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nevaeh: Good morning, Mama!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Me: Morning sweetheart....did you have sweet dreams?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nevaeh: Yeah.  I had sleep dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Then she noticed her baby doll laying on the floor at the foot of my bed:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nevaeh: Mama!  My baby doll slept with YOU last night?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Me: No, she was in the way, so I kicked her out of bed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nevaeh: You &lt;em&gt;kicked&lt;/em&gt; her?  You kicked my baby?!?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Me: That's not what I said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;As I sit here typing, Nevaeh has the back of my shirt lifted and she's inspecting the mole on my lower back.  Just out of her mouth:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;"Mama.  Let me get the scissors...I fix your mole."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Eeks!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-6168317936035682323?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/6168317936035682323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=6168317936035682323' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6168317936035682323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6168317936035682323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/02/sleepy-sleepy.html' title='Sleepy sleepy'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-6215650963055811138</id><published>2010-01-21T15:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T15:13:57.428-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight Wanderings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I meant to post this yesterday but time slipped away from me.  But after three successful nights of staying in her bed, Nevaeh was back to her 4-month habit of wandering in the night.  During one such trip the other night, I told her to go back to her room and dragged myself out of bed to follow her back down the hall.  Since I am now able to walk through the house with my eyes closed, I didn’t bother opening them as I started the trek.  Nevaeh must not have opened hers either because pretty soon, I heard a thumping crash along with the sound of shoes from our “shoe hallway” being scattered about.  And then…in the darkness… I heard a timid voice say, “I’m ok, Mama.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then last night, as we were preparing for our overnight guests who are arriving today, we had a conversation that went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:          Guess who’s coming to visit us tomorrow?!&lt;br /&gt;Nevaeh:  Um…..Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa?!&lt;br /&gt;Me:          Yes! And Barb &amp;amp; Diane!&lt;br /&gt;Nevaeh:  Ooooohhhhhh….Are they comin’ to see my new shoes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-6215650963055811138?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/6215650963055811138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=6215650963055811138' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6215650963055811138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6215650963055811138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/01/midnight-wanderings.html' title='Midnight Wanderings'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-484757816763942651</id><published>2010-01-19T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T15:42:22.419-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To Blog or not to Blog...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So I’ve had several requests lately for me to update my blog more frequently.  Apparently people are not satisfied with Nevaeh stories just once a year.  Understandable.  Let it be known that I am aware of the issue and hope to rectify it in a manner suitable to everyone.  Or most everyone.  (I think there are only three people who read my blog – me being one of them – but hopefully three is enough to motivate me to reestablish some sort of regular blogging.)  I won’t promise that it’ll be often.  That way, all three of us will be pleasantly surprised if it is.  But I can pretty much guarantee that there’ll be some sort of comedy in a good portion of the stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Onto the story from this morning…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevaeh came into my room around 6:40 am, said, "Good morning, Mama!”, then climbed into my bed.  I had been hitting snooze for an hour and seven minutes, so I was still trying to wake up.  Since Nevaeh was rather alert and I didn’t think she’d be falling asleep while I showered, I thought I would turn on the tv and find something to watch.  (Normally she doesn’t get very many tv privileges at home but we’re coming off a 4-month stretch of her wandering the halls at night (sometimes several times per night), and since this was the third night in a row that she had stayed in her room for 10 hours straight, I thought she deserved a little reward.)  When I turned the tv on, it was so bright in my dark bedroom that we both jerked our heads the other way.  She threw her hands over her eyes and said, "Mama, it's too bright!  I need my sunglassies!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-484757816763942651?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/484757816763942651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=484757816763942651' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/484757816763942651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/484757816763942651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/01/to-blog-or-not-to-blog.html' title='To Blog or not to Blog...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8091958477200501968</id><published>2010-01-04T16:19:00.029-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T06:33:41.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'>101 in 1001</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;After finding a list on someone else's blog of 101 things to do in 1001 days, I decided to start a list of my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Mission:&lt;/strong&gt; Complete 101 pre-set tasks in a period of 1001 days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Criteria:&lt;/strong&gt; Tasks must be specific (i.e. no ambiguity in the wording) with a result that is either measurable or clearly defined. Tasks must also be realistic and stretching (i.e. represent some amount of work on my part).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Start date:&lt;/strong&gt; January 1, 2010&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;End date:&lt;/strong&gt; September 28, 2012&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Key:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not started&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;em&gt;In process&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Completed&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Travel to Vancouver to visit Maite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;2) Try sushi. Completed July 26, 2010 @ Benihana - spicy tuna.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Get a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;4) Write a children’s book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;5) Travel to Germany to visit Rachel – April 2011.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6) Read through the Bible - completed in 90 days April 2011.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;7) Hike North Mountain…with Nevaeh - completed 3/27/11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;8) Drink half my body weight (in oz) in water every day for 30 days straight. Completed April 26-May 26, 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;9) Go on a walk at least 3x per week for 4 weeks straight. (4/4) - Completed April/May 2011.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;10) Visit an amusement park...with Nevaeh.&lt;br /&gt;11) Attend a MN Twins spring training game in Florida.&lt;br /&gt;12) Lose 5 lbs and maintain the weight for one month (starting weight=146).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,0,0)"&gt;13) Cook at least 3x per week for 4 weeks straight. (0/4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;em&gt;14) Try 26 new restaurants. Cannot include restaurants while traveling unless it's a chain restaurant also available in Phoenix but not yet tried there. (#1-La Piazza Al Forno, #2-Grimaldi's Pizzeria, #3-Sardella's, #4-Mama's Pizza, #5-Five Guys Burgers &amp;amp; Fries, #6-BLT Steak, #7-Smash Burger, #8-The Chuckbox, #9-Margaritaville, #10-America's Taco Shop, #11-Fuego Tacos, #12-Don &amp;amp; Charlie's, #13-Pie Zano's)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;15) Read 26 books per year for 3 years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Visit 3 MLB ballparks not previously visited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;17) Take a weekend trip somewhere by myself (Las Vegas - March 19-21, 2011).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;18) Try 26 new recipes. (#1-Easy Chicken Bake, #2-Chili Cornbread Sloppy Freds, #3-Mexican Soup, #4-MJB's Lasagna, #5-Chicken Pasta Salad, #6-Ultimate Creamy Beef Stroganoff, #7-Veggie Pizza, #8-Pork w/ homemade BBQ glaze)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;19) Finish years 1, 2, and 3 in Nevaeh's memory book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;20) Finish trying everything on the Paradise Bakery menu.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) Stop drinking soda for one month.&lt;br /&gt;22) Go to NYC for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.&lt;br /&gt;23) Go on a cruise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;24) Visit the Grand Canyon again - went to the South Rim May 1, 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;25) Learn how to use iTunes.&lt;br /&gt;26) Create a will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;27) Start preschool curriculum with Nevaeh (Started Kumon workbooks August 2010).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;28) Visit Verve church. (Visited 8.10.10 while in Vegas on vacation but was only able to serve for a couple hours and not attend service. Attended service 3.20.11.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;29) Get professional teeth whitening done.&lt;br /&gt;30) For insurance purposes, create a 3-ring binder that documents household valuables and bring to safe deposit box.&lt;br /&gt;31) Back up pics on cd's.&lt;br /&gt;32) Join the list of bone marrow donors.&lt;br /&gt;33) Figure out a way to preserve ultrasound pics.&lt;br /&gt;34) Set aside 6 months of savings in a separate account.&lt;br /&gt;35) Step foot in all 50 states (can't count layovers in airports). (40/50-Remaining:Alaska, Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, New Hampshire, North Carolina, South Carolina, West Virginia, Vermont)&lt;br /&gt;36) See another Cirque du Soleil show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;37) Visit all spring training ballparks in AZ. (Remaining: Maryvale, Phoenix Municipal (have been there but not for a game), Salt River)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;38) Host a kid-free game night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;39) Take Nevaeh to the Children’s Museum of Phoenix. Completed May 6, 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;40) Complete a 5K.&lt;br /&gt;41) Research adoption in Minnesota.&lt;br /&gt;42) Start a travel bucket list (African safari, Iceland, Australia/New Zealand, Fiji, Alaskan cruise, Egyptian Pyramids, Argentina, Norway/Sweden/Finland, train travel through Europe).&lt;br /&gt;43) Learn basic/conversational Spanish or French.&lt;br /&gt;44) Create a scrapbook of favorite snapshots (in 8x10 format), dating back to July 2005 when I got my first digital camera.&lt;br /&gt;45) Learn basic CPR.&lt;br /&gt;46) Find a passive income producing opportunity.&lt;br /&gt;47) Choose a country and study its customs, cuisines, art, history, politics, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;48) Re-organize boxes in closet. Completed May 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49) Go on another missions trip.&lt;br /&gt;50) Go camping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;51) Update current blog with links to favorite websites. Completed 1/15/10.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52) Volunteer at a soup kitchen or homeless shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;53) Donate blood. Completed 3.2.11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;54) Send a card/letter to Grampa/Papa Winston 1x per month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;55) Make at least one new friend. Completed April 2010 - Ryan T.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;56) Go to a movie by myself.&lt;br /&gt;57) Make something artsy/craftsy.&lt;br /&gt;58) Volunteer at the library warehouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;59) See a movie at the drive-in theater. Completed 2/27/10-Valentine's Day &amp;amp; When In Rome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;60) Send Valentine's Day cards.&lt;br /&gt;61) Bake a loaf of bread from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;62) Take a cooking class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;63) Find a small group at church. Completed April 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;64) Get involved at church (started volunteering at the Resources table in April 2011).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;65) Cook a turkey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;66) Take care of a friend's child for the weekend. Completed March 13/14, 2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;67) Make a mix cd for someone.&lt;br /&gt;68) Wash someone's car for them.&lt;br /&gt;69) Buy produce from a community farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0); FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;70) Buy a new pair of running shoes. Completed June 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;71) Make ice cream from scratch.&lt;br /&gt;72) Attend or host a Tastefully Simple party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;73) Host another Pampered Chef party. Completed March 19, 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;74) Visit a winery or brewery that I haven't been to before.&lt;br /&gt;75) Buy a lottery ticket.&lt;br /&gt;76) Bake a treat and bring to work to share.&lt;br /&gt;77) Complete a 1000 piece puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;78) Get picture taken in photo booth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;79) Convince someone else to start a list. Completed 1/3/2010 – June Chambers.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;80) Send 25 just-for-fun postcards. (0/25)&lt;br /&gt;81) Master a song on Dance Dance Revolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;82) Sell unwanted DVD’s. Completed May 2011 - gave them away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;83) Read the "To Read" folder's emails in my Yahoo account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;84) Learn how to use a bbq grill.&lt;br /&gt;85) Take Nevaeh on a breakfast picnic.&lt;br /&gt;86) Take a photography class.&lt;br /&gt;87) Complete another inline marathon, either full or half.&lt;br /&gt;88) Set up an online bank account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;89) Sort digital pics on hard drive by year. Completed January 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;90) Send in part for crib recall. Completed March 2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;91) Create a 5-yr plan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;92) Set up Skype account and new webcam. Completed 1/2/2010.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;93) Get caught up on Toyota maintenance spreadsheet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(255,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;94) Avoid grocery shopping for a month, unless buying milk, bread, produce, or nearly free items. Completed January 2010.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;95) Rotate all digital pics on hard drive.&lt;br /&gt;96) Purchase a life insurance policy for Nevaeh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;97) Determine when Nevaeh needs a new car seat and research options. Completed August 2011 - bought a new booster seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(0,102,0)"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;98) Create a list of Nevaeh's Christmas ornaments so she knows which ones are hers when she moves out. Completed 3/23/2010.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;99) Make a life verse plaque for Nevaeh's bedroom wall - Jeremiah 29:11.&lt;br /&gt;100) Send a care package to someone.&lt;br /&gt;101) Make a new list!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8091958477200501968?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8091958477200501968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8091958477200501968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8091958477200501968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8091958477200501968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2010/01/101-in-1001.html' title='101 in 1001'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-3204036194178248839</id><published>2008-08-17T12:49:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T13:16:42.595-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, Nevaeh and I have one day left to enjoy the beautiful weather in Minnesota.  We have been having a blast over the past 10 or 11 days!  We flew into MSP on Wednesday the 6th and after a rocky first night (Nevaeh was over-tired as she only slept 30 minutes on the flight), Nevaeh has been sleeping 11.5-13 hours every night.  She did great on the plane ride, one of the easiest so far for me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh had her first eye appointment on Thursday the 7th - my eye doctor in Plymouth happens to be a pediatric eye doctor and when I was pregnant, he mentioned that babies should have their first checkup between 6 and 12 months.  And besides, the eye appointments are free for babies under a year, so why not?  He said everything looks perfect with Nevaeh's eyes -- if anything, she is not as farsighted as he would like, which could mean that she will end up nearsighted in the future.  Nothing to worry about.  With my vision as bad as it is, I would expect her to have some issues.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;On Friday the 8th, I had a get-together at Southgate in Cloquet for my 10-year high school reunion.  It was great to see some faces I hadn't seen in years, and also to catch up with those I haven't talked to in a few months.  There was supposed to be a picnic on Saturday at Jay Cooke but pretty much no one showed up.  Matt, Callie, their boys, Nevaeh and I were the only ones who brought food.  In fact, we were 45 minutes late but the first to arrive at Oldenburg Point.  The sign on the picnic shelter said it was reserved for the Class of 88's 20-year reunion from 11 am to 4 pm.... Hmmmm, either that was a typo that should've said Class of 98's 10-year reunion, or the class of '88 also had a crappy turn-out.  So anywho, Matt's family and Nevaeh and I hung around for 3 hours and enjoyed the beautiful weather.  It was really disappointing not to have a better turnout - especially since the organizers of the event didn't show up either - because the weather could not have been more perfect, but I figure it's their loss.  And it would've been nice to have a catered event because the last thing I wanted to do after flying in from Arizona was to hit up Wal-Mart and the grocery store for picnic food and supplies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;On Saturday night, our class had another event at Lost Isle.  I think the $15 I paid for the reunion weekend was for two slices of chocolate cake because that's all I got out of it.  Again, it was fun to hang out but...whatever.  No further comments.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;On Sunday, we celebrated Nevaeh's 1st birthday one day late with a big family birthday party at Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa's.  We had a great turn-out and Nevaeh was showered with love and attention, not to mention some awesome clothes, toys, and books.  Nevaeh's closet was starting to thin out, so I can't wait to get back to AZ and hang up all the goods!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I spent last week working in Golden Valley, while Nevaeh was acting queen of Gramma &amp;amp; Grampy's house.  According to Gramma, she ate like a horse.  Uh....how else do you expect a person to grow?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Renee drove up to Cloquet yesterday and we took Nevaeh to the Lakewalk and Canal Park area in Duluth.  Again, the weather was beautiful.  We watched a ship leave the harbor, walked around everywhere, had lunch at Grandma's, enjoyed ice cream at Portland Malt Shoppe (Nevaeh and I split a root beer float), then we came home and had supper from Gordy's.  Mmmmmm.  Nevaeh had a great day on just 1 hour of sleep in the stroller.  It's no wonder she's sleeping 2 hours longer at night -- the girl hasn't been taking long naps!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh has also made the transition from bottle to sippy cup for all beverages at all times of the day.  It really wasn't bad at all.  I think she was confused at first by the taste and consistency of whole milk (as opposed to formula), but she's not one to turn away food and beverage.  Nevaeh's skin is also a couple shades darker with tan lines to prove it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well anyway, we were supposed to fly home tonight, but I switched our flight to late tomorrow night so that we could stay for my great-aunt Selma's funeral tomorrow morning.  Nevaeh and I were able to see Selma last Thursday when we got to Minnesota, so I'm thankful for that and that her last days were peaceful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;For those of you in Phoenix, I'll see you soon.... for those of you in Minnesota who I was able to see over the past 11 days, it was GREAT to see you -- thanks to everyone for their hospitality and we'll hopefully see you at Christmas!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-3204036194178248839?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/3204036194178248839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=3204036194178248839' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/3204036194178248839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/3204036194178248839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/08/well-nevaeh-and-i-have-one-day-left-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-2434169088669074926</id><published>2008-07-26T14:34:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-26T14:38:20.709-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nevaeh's First Word</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think Nevaeh is officially working on her first word.  I mean, she has said "mum-mum" here and there, but I really don't think she's made the connection yet between me and "Mama."  So anyway, we were looking at a book this morning (her favorite thing to do these days -- and who am I to complain about that??) and this book had pictures of toys.  When we got to the two pages with balls, Nevaeh kept saying "ba" over and over again while pointing at them.  And whenever I ask her to go get her big purple ball, she will trot off in search of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So she is my reading ballplayer...and if this is only a phase, I will enjoy it while it lasts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-2434169088669074926?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/2434169088669074926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=2434169088669074926' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2434169088669074926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2434169088669074926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/07/nevaehs-first-word.html' title='Nevaeh&apos;s First Word'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8272434634691495749</id><published>2008-06-15T22:23:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T22:32:17.324-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Duh-duh-duh-DUCK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today was supposed to be a lazy day for Nevaeh and me.  We couldn't go to church because Nevaeh was displaying cold-like symptoms (coughing, a horrible runny/stuffy nose that made a mess all over the both of us all day long, and a low fever at times), which is a no-no for the nursery.  So instead, I tried to experiment again with the one-nap (no morning nap, but rather one nap from about noon to 2:30ish) concept.  It didn't go as well as the 3-hr nap last weekend.  In fact, it failed miserably and I missed out on a nap myself because as soon as I was ready to lay down for a few minutes, Nevaeh was awake from hers.  Boooooo.  So then I was trying to play with her as best I could from the couch in a semi-conscious state.  I'm sure you can imagine how well that went over with a 10-month-old.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;After supper, we went for a walk to the neighborhood "lake" (I use that term loosely as it's more of a man-made pond).  Tonight was probably the warmest night we've taken a walk and I'm not sure how many more I can tolerate in this heat.  We didn't leave the house until about 7 but it was still plenty warm.  Imagine sitting in the sauna with a hair dryer blowing on your face.  That's what it felt like with the "breeze" tonight.  So anywho... once we made it to the lake, we (ok, mostly me) enjoyed sitting on the grass and watching the ducks swim or toddle about on the "shore."  As I pointed to the ducks tonight and tried to get Nevaeh to say "duck," she actually got out the "duh" part and kept saying it over and over while pointing at the ducks.  Hey, maybe she does listen to me after all!  It's only a matter of time until she's ready for Duck-Duck-GRAY DUCK.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8272434634691495749?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8272434634691495749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8272434634691495749' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8272434634691495749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8272434634691495749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/06/duh-duh-duh-duck.html' title='Duh-duh-duh-DUCK'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7344875798653224318</id><published>2008-06-14T07:49:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T08:00:10.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>10 months later...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, it's been a ridiculously long time since I've posted, but no surprise there. I wish I would post more often because Nevaeh does some hilarious things and the stories would be welcomed by all, I'm sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, a quick rundown of where we're at... Nevaeh turned 10 months old this past week. She's about 30 inches long and weighs just under 27 pounds. After struggling for months to find shoes that will fit her fat and wide feet, I finally brought her in yesterday to be fitted for her first pair of shoes and she measured in at a size 6 extra wide. Yep, extra wide. Not just wide. EXTRA wide. So basically, the only shoes that fit her are the $42 ones that she'll hopefully be able to wear for 2 months. 3 months if I'm lucky. Ouch on the pocketbook.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Nevaeh has been walking for about a month now and loves to explore. She will find everything she's not supposed to. Recently I realized that she really only had a few toys besides all the rattles and stuffed animals. I hit up a secondhand kids store and found a number of toys that would normally retail for $10+ apiece and I only paid $5 or less for each one. But even those toys don't hold her interest for more than a minute at a time. For whatever reason, her favorite "toys" seem to be (in no particular order):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Bathroom scale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Phones&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Remotes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Wires/cords&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Plastic bags&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Wet wipes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Mirrors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Keys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Toilet paper&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Bottles of lotion, shampoo, water, etc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Shoes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anything in the dishwasher, especially sharp items&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Those are all safe to play with, right? ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well anywho, she's definitely active and into something new everyday, but I love her curiosity and chasing after her keeps me from being too lazy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Time to go play and wear this munchkin out. It's Gracie's first birthday party today during Nevaeh's normal nap time, so I'm hoping to get her down for an early nap this morning instead. Sean &amp;amp; Clayton came over for a visit last night, so Nevaeh was up until 10:15...but still wide awake at her normal 7 am. Gotta love it! :-)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7344875798653224318?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7344875798653224318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7344875798653224318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7344875798653224318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7344875798653224318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/06/well-its-been-ridiculously-long-time.html' title='10 months later...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-2927233981345597879</id><published>2008-03-11T12:45:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T12:50:30.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things that change when you have a baby...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Quite some time ago, I read a list (either in one of those email forwards or perhaps on the internet somewhere) of things that change when you have a baby.  Well, I just had to take my favorite ones and list them here for all y'all to giggle at or say, "Boy, is that ever true."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1.  You finally stop to smell the roses, because your baby is in your arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2.  You respect your body...finally.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3.  You respect your parents and love them in a new way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4.  You find that your baby's pain feels much worse than your own.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5.  You lose touch with the people in your life whom you should have banished years ago.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6.  Your heart breaks much more easily.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;7.  You look at your baby in the mirror instead of yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;8.  You become a morning person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;9.  Your love becomes limitless, a superhuman power.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;10.  You'd rather buy a plastic tricycle than those shoes that you've been dying to have.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;11.  You don't mind going to bed at 9 p.m. on Friday night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;12.  You discover an inner strength you never thought you had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;13.  You give parents with a screaming child an 'I-know-the-feeling' look instead of a 'Can't-they-shut-him-up?' one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;14.  You take the time for one more hug and kiss even if it means you'll be late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-2927233981345597879?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/2927233981345597879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=2927233981345597879' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2927233981345597879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2927233981345597879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/03/things-that-change-when-you-have-baby.html' title='Things that change when you have a baby...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-1918748717709188498</id><published>2008-02-20T10:42:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T10:43:10.473-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Malachi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My nephew Malachi arrived early this morning!  Check out my brother's blog at: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://johnsarahcarlson.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;http://johnsarahcarlson.blogspot.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-1918748717709188498?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/1918748717709188498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=1918748717709188498' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/1918748717709188498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/1918748717709188498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/02/malachi.html' title='Malachi'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8074735870864928712</id><published>2008-01-25T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T10:32:43.935-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When it rains, it pours.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I have finally found the time and energy to write about the latest fiasco in my household.  And amazingly, this is not a Nevaeh-centered story.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last week I felt the beginnings of a cold.  Or what I assumed would turn into a cold.  I had a sore throat and that's where it always starts with me.  But it never progressed into nasal congestion, plugged ears, or a cough.  Just an incredibly painful throat (second only to the "Sore Throat of 2001" when I also had mono -- that sore throat landed me on codeine for awhile).  So anyway, I finally went to a Minute Clinic (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;www.minuteclinic.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;) on Monday and was tested for strep throat.  Sure enough, the rapid strep test came back positive within 3 minutes.  I'm now on penicillin and the sore throat was gone within 24 hours of popping the first pill.  I'm kicking myself for not having gone in sooner, especially when I was fairly convinced that it was indeed strep.  But you know what, now that I'm not feeling the pain anymore, I've kind of forgotten about how awful last week really was.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And what made it worse was that Nevaeh (ok, I guess Nevaeh played a part in this story after all) was projectile vomiting last Friday night.  She didn't seem to have any pain, so I think her tummy was just too full from 3 meals of solids and bottles.  She started a mini coughing fit and up it all came.  That was my first vomit experience with her and I know now why parents used to tell me that I'm lucky I haven't had to deal with it before.  It was all over my leather chair, my clothes, her clothes, in my hair, on the kitchen floor, fridge, stove, cupboards, sink… I spent 10 minutes cleaning it all up (because who wants to deal with it after it's crusted over?) while Nevaeh laid on the bathroom floor giggling and playing with her feet, started a load of laundry, and settled back down in the chair with her to finish her bedtime bottle.  I had just burped her and was ready to bring her to bed when…. Yep…. Up it all came again.  Repeat aforementioned cleaning process.  I ended up sleeping on the floor next to her crib because I was terrified that she was going to be sick all night.  After a couple hours of coughing every 10-15 minutes (and only one more mess to clean up), she finally settled into sleep and I got about 4 hours of sleep myself.  But can I just point out how incredibly tiring it is to take care of a sick baby plus your own sick self?  Not fun, but I'm glad we survived this round.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8074735870864928712?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8074735870864928712/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8074735870864928712' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8074735870864928712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8074735870864928712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/01/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='When it rains, it pours.'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-2551286362463052075</id><published>2008-01-17T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T11:24:58.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another round of infections...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Daycare called me last Friday morning and said that something was "just not right" with Nevaeh.  She looked out of it, she wouldn't crack a smile, she wouldn't take a bottle (first time ever), and her temp was 101.7.  So I took her to the doctor and sure enough, bad infections in BOTH ears.  After an hour of Tylenol and an antibiotic in her system, she was back to her normal self, thank goodness.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh has also started solid foods -- just rice cereal and peas for now.  I guess she eats well at daycare and she used to eat well for me in the evenings, but now at suppertime, she prefers screaming and crying.  She still eats all her food, but it is not without a fight.  I should probably just throw in the towel for a little bit because I am obviously doing something wrong.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;On a positive note, Nevaeh continues to love her jumperoo.  She won't stay in it too terribly long and she seems to enjoy it more when I'm sitting next to her watching.  I have seen her eyeing up the electrical outlets just slightly out of her reach, so it looks like I need to do something about that.  She has been playing with her new Christmas toys lately -- the Rock-A-Stack, shape sorter, and Stack-A-Cups.  She likes when I take a couple of cups and make them into a ball that she can hold, throw, and drop.  No rolling over or sitting up on her own yet.  She prefers being a blob, I guess.  I can tell she's getting stronger and will soon be able to sit up on her own, but for now, she's bent over at the waist while playing with her toys.  Last night I laid her on a blanket in the living room and ran to my bedroom to check my email.  I came back not even 3 minutes later and she was off the blanket and almost under the Christmas tree.  Apparently she has the "inchworm" movements down pat.  It's funny to watch -- she lifts up her butt, pulls her knees forward, and then kicks out.  I think this means no more unsupervised naps on Mama's bed!  And she prefers standing up and trying to play with toys that way as opposed to laying on her tummy or sitting.  She'll stand by herself for a couple seconds at a time or longer if she's holding onto the couch or a chair.  Not real coordinated yet in that department, which is probably a good thing -- gives me a couple more months to get the apartment child-proofed!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-2551286362463052075?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/2551286362463052075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=2551286362463052075' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2551286362463052075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2551286362463052075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/01/another-round-of-infections.html' title='Another round of infections...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-4883593754509572089</id><published>2008-01-13T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T16:30:16.104-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reflections on MN trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I meant to write a long time ago, but I guess I got busy.  Go figure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1)  Nevaeh did great on the flight up to MN.  She had just learned how to put her pacifier back in her mouth and that entertained her far longer than I expected.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2)  The weather wasn't bad.  Yep, you heard me.  In fact, over the course of 15 days, not once did I think to myself, "Brrrrrr, it's cold, I want to go home."  I must give credit to my 4-year-old fluffy down jacket from Old Navy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3)  Nevaeh looked sooooooooooo cute in her purple snowsuit.  I think she liked being bundled up too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4)  I got my Christmas wish granted -- a white Christmas.  In fact, I was able to help Dad shovel a lot of the new stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5)  There were a million and three people on our list to visit.  I did not make it out to everyone's.  If you were one of those who were missed, my apologies.  Hopefully we'll catch you on the next trip or you can always visit us in the desert.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6)  I enjoyed sleeping in a couple of times and staying up late to read.  I've been trying to read every night before bed since I've been home, but it's mostly been my Bible and baby-related books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, I guess that's all for now.  I know for a fact that I had so much more to say, but i didn't write down my thoughts when I should have, so I've forgotten them.  Oh well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-4883593754509572089?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/4883593754509572089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=4883593754509572089' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4883593754509572089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4883593754509572089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2008/01/reflections-on-mn-trip.html' title='Reflections on MN trip'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-1001445593648598934</id><published>2007-12-12T15:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-12-12T15:09:40.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving on a jet plane...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh and I leave for Minnesota on Sunday afternoon!  We have been plenty busy.  And I use the "we" term loosely.  Nevaeh is mostly supervising, and I often have to say to her, "You stay right there."  She is over her 2nd cold of the season and I hope that we can make it until January before the next one hits.  With her being in daycare, chances are slim...but I remain hopeful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Renee flies in tomorrow night and will be flying back with us on Sunday, so it'll be nice to have someone help me haul the baby gear.  The return trip to Phoenix by myself should be interesting, but that's a good 2.5 weeks away, so why worry about it now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Anywho, I guess I didn't really have much to say today, just that my evenings have been jam-packed recently.  It'll all be worth it, though, to see our MN family and friends and introduce them to my mini-me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-1001445593648598934?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/1001445593648598934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=1001445593648598934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/1001445593648598934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/1001445593648598934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/12/leaving-on-jet-plane.html' title='Leaving on a jet plane...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8719463374026874164</id><published>2007-11-26T21:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T22:55:07.532-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, as this Thanksgiving weekend comes to an end (yes, on a Monday, because I didn't work today!), I thought I should post a blog about some things that I am thankful for.  Now, this is not the grand ole list I had visions of posting, but it will have to suffice.  It is getting late and my eyes want to close, so you'll get what you get.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Besides the obvious "I'm thankful for family and friends," here's what I'm thinking about these days (in no particular order, except for the first one).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am thankful for...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nevaeh&lt;/strong&gt; -- Not gonna lie, she's the cutest ever 3.5 month old.  Who knew that I would burn so many calories just laughing with and at her?  The other night in the bathtub, I blew into her face and her eyes widened with a look of surprise as she inhaled sharply, then she burst into giggles.  So what did I do?  I did it again.  Pretty soon, we were both laughing at each other laughing.  I love hearing her laugh; it's the most ridiculous thing ever.  Sometimes I think she knows exactly what I'm saying.  I'll practice my storytelling on her and she will laugh in the right spots.  Just the other night, I caught her watching tv and there was a sitcom on (she was supposed to be bouncing in her jumperoo but managed to turn herself around so that she was pretending to be playing with the toys but her eyes were completely on the tv)... and she laughed exactly when the studio audience laughed.  Anywho, she is 126% the light of my life and I struggle to remember what life was like before her.  What did I do with all that free time???  I would not and could not trade her for anything (except 126 gabillion dollars).  It's not easy being a single parent, but in just 4 months' time, God has blessed me with more than I've ever had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Food on the table&lt;/strong&gt; -- OK, well... the food may not always get to the table, but it's at least in the fridge, freezer, or cupboard, and has great potential to be cooked or gathered into what some would call a meal.  I think of the nights that I awake at 3 am starving and I traipse to the kitchen for some crackers or applesauce.  (Yes, really...applesauce.)  It's at those times that I think I'm so hungry that I could not possibly go on living if I don't eat something.  There are far too many people in this world who have that feeling on a daily basis, but don't have the means to do anything about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Money in my savings account&lt;/strong&gt; -- While my teeny-bopper friends were out buying clothes and makeup 15 years ago, I was babysitting and mowing lawns like a madman, saving every penny I could find and trying to convince my parents that I needed a dollar here and there.  (I really didn't NEED any money, but if you never ask, the answer's always "no," right?)  Brother Joe, remember when we would go to Kenny's mini golf course in the summer and look for change in between the cement cracks under the clubhouse counter?  Ahhhh, if life were only so simple still.  Anywho, with all the saving I've done over the years, it allowed me to take 6 weeks of unpaid leave from work, without having to worry about a penny, even with the hospital and medical bills rolling in (I think I finally got the last bill just yesterday!).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Books&lt;/strong&gt; -- One might successfully prove that, instead of reading, my dad and I spend more time hunting for books at thrift stores, rearranging them on our bookshelves, or updating our book spreadsheets.  But without books, we would have one less way to be nerds.  Nerdy accountants, at that.  I have stayed up way past my bedtime many a night, finishing up that last chapter.  Or more likely in recent years, I have awakened at 4 am with the lights still on and my book laying on my chest.  Nonetheless, I have been reading to Nevaeh since she was 3 days old and I hope that someday we can share a love for books.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Traveling&lt;/strong&gt; -- Thanks to my little peanut, I only made it to the sand dunes in Cali (I promise you that Nevaeh will never remember the bumps and the jumps because she was probably only the size of a walnut at the time), Boston, Scotland, Chicago, and MN a couple of times.  In 2008, Nevaeh and I plan to make a noticeable dent in the travel budget!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Baseball&lt;/strong&gt; -- From April through September, I watch about 15-20 games per week.  It's a tough life, but somebody's gotta help those ratings.  I look forward to '08 -- spring training is practically right around the corner.... Nevaeh, get ready, baby -- your baseball wrist rattle and Twins &amp;amp; Cubs outfits are sparkling with new-ness!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Puppies&lt;/strong&gt; -- What can I say, puppies bring a smile to my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Christmas trees&lt;/strong&gt; -- When I lived in St. Paul back in the day, my roommate and I kept the tree up for months into the new year.  I want to say it was March when we finally took it down.  Last year here in Phoenix was practically no different.  There's just something about watching tv at night with only the Christmas lights on, curled up in my chair with a blanket.  My tree has been up for 3 weeks already and what makes it even more special this year is Nevaeh's first Christmas ornament -- a pink bootie with glitter and ribbon.  I plan to buy her an ornament every year until she moves out of the house so that she has something to start her own tree with someday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funny commercials&lt;/strong&gt; -- Has anyone seen the new McDonalds commercial with the little kid carrying his boombox to the dinner table and dancing to the cha-cha slide?  Holy buckets, I laugh so hard every time I see it.  It's Super Bowl commercial worthy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Alright, it should probably be bedtime for me.  Back to the grind tomorrow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8719463374026874164?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8719463374026874164/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8719463374026874164' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8719463374026874164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8719463374026874164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8588219204193280029</id><published>2007-11-14T10:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T10:36:32.269-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daycare Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;As it turns out, Nevaeh is doing great at daycare!  The ladies say that Nevaeh loves to watch the big kids play and she's getting used to napping in the sometimes (or perhaps always) noisy and chaotic atmosphere.  But I'm not gonna lie, during her first day of daycare, I was all set to quit my job and open my own daycare so that Nevaeh could be with me.  I have absolutely nothing against the ladies at daycare...I would just prefer that Nevaeh spend more time with me, that's all.  But having gotten used to her being there, I now look forward to my lunch breaks so that I can run errands without hauling around an infant who thinks that I use the car seat as some type of torturing device.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh also picked up her first cold, probably from one of the kids at daycare.  She never got a fever, just some congestion and a slight cough.  After spending last Friday listening to her wake up about 7 times in the night to cough, I had the brilliant idea of running the humidifier in her room.  Since then, no nighttime coughs have been heard.  I also give her tylenol at night since I think her ear might still be bothering her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My challenge now is to get her to back up.  Yes, that's right, "back up" in terms of reversing.  She will scoot her way forward from one end of the crib to the other and when I hear her start fussing around 6:30 am, I will go in her room and find her stuck in a corner.  Not stuck in the slats of the crib or anything, but stuck because she can't move any further forward.  I can just see it now.  She is going to be the child who falls asleep with her head on the pillow and blankets snuggled around her.  Yet she will wake up either on the floor or with her head at the foot of the bed... her blankets in disarray... and perhaps even her pajamas piled in a heap somewhere in her room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8588219204193280029?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8588219204193280029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8588219204193280029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8588219204193280029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8588219204193280029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/11/daycare-update.html' title='Daycare Update'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-324331822965779640</id><published>2007-11-12T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T16:06:58.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Carpool Spots</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;There are some carpool parking spots at work.  They're considerably closer to the door than the spaces I usually end up in.  I'm trying to figure out how to get myself a closer spot.  The "being pregnant" thing only scored me a medical parking permit for a few months -- and then I delivered 2 weeks early, so I kind of got jipped there.  But as far as a carpool parking spot goes, the odds are probably against me.  I live just 6 miles from work, I know of no one I could pick up, I have a daughter to drop off and pick up from daycare on a daily basis, and I'm notorious for wearing out the snooze buttons on alarm clocks.  I'll keep working on it, though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-324331822965779640?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/324331822965779640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=324331822965779640' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/324331822965779640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/324331822965779640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/11/carpool-spots.html' title='Carpool Spots'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7086596574631599026</id><published>2007-11-06T23:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:24:10.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm baaaaaa-aaaack!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, yesterday was my first day back to work. People seemed surprised to see me, as they thought I was back early. I immediately thought I had done the math wrong and hoped I had another week of leave. But nope, it was indeed time to return. For once, being right kind of sucked. Anyway, it almost felt like my first day of school, except this time, I knew where to find my desk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Gramma &amp;amp; Grampa were in town taking care of Nevaeh for 2 days. The little lass starts daycare tomorrow. Hopefully she won't catch too many (or any) illnesses and bugs this winter. Ha, tough to type "winter" when we're still in the 90's and my air conditioning is running down here!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday when I got home from work, I was so excited to see Nevaeh. We sat outside on the balcony and enjoyed the sunset. She took a nap in my arms and when she woke up, she found her thumb! It was so cute! Initially, I decided I was going to fight her when she stuck her hands/fingers in her mouth, but it's probably not worth it. Pick your battles, right? I think I'll wait until she's older to deal with it. Anyway, Gramma gave her a bath and a bottle, then she was off to bed. I followed just 20 minutes later!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh has also started reaching for some objects. She can grab onto her Baby Einstein links and she likes her Bright Starts rattle, even though she isn't yet able to hold it. And although she's still a little small for her jumperoo, I put a phone book underneath her feet and she is able to bounce somewhat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;At her last doctor's office weigh-in (at 12 wks old), she was 16 lbs even with her diaper and onesie on! She's gaining good weight, especially in her tummy and legs, haha!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Well, that's about all for today from this household. I am exhausted and need to be up bright and early to get Nevaeh to daycare.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7086596574631599026?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7086596574631599026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7086596574631599026' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7086596574631599026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7086596574631599026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-baaaaaa-aaaack.html' title='I&apos;m baaaaaa-aaaack!'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-5960010530163101868</id><published>2007-11-02T23:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T23:42:20.662-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ear Infection</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh went to the doctor today because I noticed she had been holding her left hand to her head the last few days and letting out random screams.  As it turned out, she has an ear infection in her left ear.  Geez louise.  So she's on medication now and hopefully it clears up soon without any long-term damage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-5960010530163101868?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/5960010530163101868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=5960010530163101868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/5960010530163101868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/5960010530163101868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/11/ear-infection.html' title='Ear Infection'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-8056253573035344877</id><published>2007-10-24T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T07:35:15.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gymnast</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Nevaeh goes to sleep on her tummy.  This morning I found her in the crib on her back, arms flying and feet kicking about.  She was in the exact same spot I left her in last night, just on her back.  It appears as though I have a gymnast on my hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-8056253573035344877?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/8056253573035344877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=8056253573035344877' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8056253573035344877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/8056253573035344877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/10/gymnast.html' title='Gymnast'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-3343627468476262124</id><published>2007-10-11T23:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-11T23:28:03.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>PJ's</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tonight I cut the tags off of a new sleeper for Nevaeh because she has outgrown so many of them already.  (Interestingly enough, she has outgrown the 0-3 month ones and this new one is size "newborn.")  I noticed two pockets on the front of the sleeper.  Pockets.  On a baby's sleeper.  Are these pockets for ... her pacifiers???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-3343627468476262124?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/3343627468476262124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=3343627468476262124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/3343627468476262124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/3343627468476262124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/10/pjs.html' title='PJ&apos;s'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7013184854680045187</id><published>2007-09-22T03:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T03:10:47.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why aren't you awake???</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last night, I put Nevaeh to bed "early" because I had the chills and a bad stomachache and was completely exhausted, to top it off.  It's now just after 3 am and &lt;em&gt;I'm &lt;/em&gt;wide awake because &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; internal clock tells me that Nevaeh should have had a feeding in the last 1-2 hours.  But she seems to be having her longest stretch of sleep ever, which is GREAT, except...did I mention it's just after 3 am and Mom is wide awake, pacing the floor, wondering when she is going to wake up?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm sure I'll be completely exhausted by the time Nevaeh decides that she's hungry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7013184854680045187?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7013184854680045187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7013184854680045187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7013184854680045187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7013184854680045187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/09/why-arent-you-awake.html' title='Why aren&apos;t you awake???'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-6028111801502389114</id><published>2007-08-29T14:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T14:44:32.481-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Julie's foot update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I am happy to announce that the swelling I experienced in my feet during pregnancy has now disappeared. I feel like I have been given brand new feet and ankles. Again, enjoy the before and after pictures...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXoeBl7EOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/6ZQgyWuCSls/s1600-h/Julie_swollenfeet_042307.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104241355215540450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXoeBl7EOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/6ZQgyWuCSls/s320/Julie_swollenfeet_042307.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXoeBl7EPI/AAAAAAAAAA0/2m16W6vxcKs/s1600-h/Julie+feet_082207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104241355215540466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXoeBl7EPI/AAAAAAAAAA0/2m16W6vxcKs/s320/Julie+feet_082207.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-6028111801502389114?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/6028111801502389114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=6028111801502389114' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6028111801502389114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6028111801502389114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/08/julies-foot-update.html' title='Julie&apos;s foot update'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXoeBl7EOI/AAAAAAAAAAs/6ZQgyWuCSls/s72-c/Julie_swollenfeet_042307.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-2345985286217608278</id><published>2007-08-29T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T14:41:21.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nevaeh's eye update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It is healed! Yay! My little baby once again has use of both her eyes. I've attached before and after pictures...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXnxRl7EMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/1NnE3D0AlPA/s1600-h/Nevaeh+Eye+Infection.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104240586416394434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXnxRl7EMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/1NnE3D0AlPA/s320/Nevaeh+Eye+Infection.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXnxhl7ENI/AAAAAAAAAAk/9bUJwDyf2Hg/s1600-h/Nevaeh_082207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104240590711361746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXnxhl7ENI/AAAAAAAAAAk/9bUJwDyf2Hg/s320/Nevaeh_082207.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&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/31564460-2345985286217608278?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/2345985286217608278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=2345985286217608278' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2345985286217608278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2345985286217608278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/08/nevaehs-eye-update.html' title='Nevaeh&apos;s eye update'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RtXnxRl7EMI/AAAAAAAAAAc/1NnE3D0AlPA/s72-c/Nevaeh+Eye+Infection.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-6875820599551957886</id><published>2007-08-21T23:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T23:59:19.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight Loss Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So far, so good with the weight loss.  I only lost 13 pounds while in the hospital, but have lost 20 more since arriving home 12 days ago.  I have 17 more pounds to lose before I hit my pre-pregnancy weight.  My ankles have never been skinnier and I think I have lost weight in my 2nd biggest toes.  I bought some non-maternity jeans the other day and while they are a far cry from my normal size 8's, not having an elastic waistband definitely put me on Cloud 9.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-6875820599551957886?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/6875820599551957886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=6875820599551957886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6875820599551957886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6875820599551957886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/08/weight-loss-update.html' title='Weight Loss Update'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-2349782818776490550</id><published>2007-08-21T23:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T23:55:42.375-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To-Do Lists</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Mama's To-Do List:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1) Take shower.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2) Feed baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3) Drink fluids.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4) Feed baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5) Accomplish 53 daily tasks in 1.5 hours using one hand.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6) Feed baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;*Notice how "sleeping" did not make the to-do list as an option.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Baby's To-Do List:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;1) Eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;2) Figure out the difference between night and day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;3) Eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;4) Figure out why I keep getting scratches on my face and why Mama makes me wear mittens sometimes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;5) Eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;6) Work on potty training.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;7) Eat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;8) Watch Twins game with Mama.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;9) Cry.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-2349782818776490550?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/2349782818776490550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=2349782818776490550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2349782818776490550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2349782818776490550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/08/to-do-lists.html' title='To-Do Lists'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7807360769743594142</id><published>2007-08-19T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T08:40:53.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are you expecting?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Four days after giving birth to Nevaeh, I found myself in a doctor's office type setting with her.  I had just hauled her car seat, diaper bag, and my purse across a parking lot in 113 degree heat.  Pure exhaustion for my already tired, sore, and sleep-deprived body.  When we got inside, I put her in an empty chair in the waiting area and I sank into the one next to her, letting out an audible sigh of relief.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A woman across from me says, "Oh honey, that's not easy carrying around all of that stuff in this heat, is it?  Especially when you've got another one on the way..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I looked at her, said, "I'm not pregnant," and while pointing at Nevaeh, added, "She's only 4 days old."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Her response: "Oh... well, it's still not easy, is it..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Asking a woman when her baby is due and then finding out the woman isn't pregnant would be pretty embarrassing.  But assuming that a woman is pregnant, even after seeing that the infant she is hauling around is clearly under a month of age?  Wow!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7807360769743594142?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7807360769743594142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7807360769743594142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7807360769743594142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7807360769743594142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/08/are-you-expecting.html' title='Are you expecting?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-5733865820603388756</id><published>2007-08-19T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T08:33:51.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nevaeh Marie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Finally, a post about my new bundle of joy!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nevaeh&lt;/strong&gt; (nuh-VAY-uh) &lt;strong&gt;Marie&lt;/strong&gt; arrived two weeks early! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/Rshg_Rl7ELI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K2UE4VlJ6_g/s1600-h/Nevaeh+Sun.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100433218167574706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 310px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" height="240" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/Rshg_Rl7ELI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K2UE4VlJ6_g/s320/Nevaeh+Sun.JPG" width="285" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Date: Thursday, August 9, 2007 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time: 10:46 am &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place: Scottsdale, AZ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weight: 7 lbs 6.2 oz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Length: 20 inches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was a pretty short and sweet labor with no complications. We arrived home from the hospital on Saturday the 11th. Nevaeh caught an eye infection somehow within her first week of life and has been battling that. But, after 3 medications, an antibiotic shot at the doctor's office, and TONS of prayers (thank you, everyone!!!), her eye is healing and we pray there is no long-term damage. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So far, Nevaeh loves to sleep during the day and be fussy for Mama at night. She has Daddy's ears and feet (hopefully not on her way to a size 17, though!) and Mama's stubbornness. She likes to have her hands up by her face or over her head. Nevaeh loves to cuddle and she sometimes takes naps with Mama on the couch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I'm sure there will be plenty of Nevaeh stories in the coming months and years, so stay tuned!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-5733865820603388756?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/5733865820603388756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=5733865820603388756' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/5733865820603388756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/5733865820603388756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/08/nevaeh-marie.html' title='Nevaeh Marie'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/Rshg_Rl7ELI/AAAAAAAAAAU/K2UE4VlJ6_g/s72-c/Nevaeh+Sun.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-6930859058865784184</id><published>2007-07-30T09:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T10:01:35.383-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Pants</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;This morning I wore some drawstring maternity pants to work.  I walked into the bathroom stall with some urgency in my steps.  As I hurriedly undid the drawstring tie, I managed to create a knot.  So now I'm ready to pee my pants and I can't see over and around my belly to analyze the knot.  There I stood.  Helpless.  It was awful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-6930859058865784184?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/6930859058865784184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=6930859058865784184' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6930859058865784184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6930859058865784184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/07/poor-pants.html' title='Poor Pants'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-2090046510351470591</id><published>2007-07-20T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T17:36:24.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We're gonna win, Twins...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love the enthusiasm of Dick Bremer.  There is no one quite like him.  Over the last few Twins games, there hasn't been much to scream about (in a good way, that is).  But here, in the first inning of the Angels vs. Twins... my little Twinkies have given Dick a couple of hits to scream about.  And I love it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-2090046510351470591?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/2090046510351470591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=2090046510351470591' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2090046510351470591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/2090046510351470591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/07/were-gonna-win-twins.html' title='We&apos;re gonna win, Twins...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-6522332333713981333</id><published>2007-07-04T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T22:10:13.564-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today it hit 116 in Phoenix, the hottest day of the year so far.  At 10:08 pm, it's still 102 degrees out there.  I should be giving birth in about a month and a half and I've gained 41 pounds since January.  I spent most of the afternoon in the sun.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I am officially the toughest pregnant woman ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-6522332333713981333?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/6522332333713981333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=6522332333713981333' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6522332333713981333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/6522332333713981333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/07/hot-stuff.html' title='Hot Stuff'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-7391593606737015935</id><published>2007-06-29T22:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T22:10:30.517-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Gear</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've been doing a lot of baby-related reading lately (don't worry, I still read grown-up books too -- most recently, John Sandford's "Prey" series) and today's book pick of the day is about baby gear.  In the section on baby backpacks, the author mentions that some brands have made very durable packs that can carry a child until he weighs about 75 pounds.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?  I didn't even weigh that much in 7TH GRADE!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-7391593606737015935?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/7391593606737015935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=7391593606737015935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7391593606737015935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/7391593606737015935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/06/baby-gear.html' title='Baby Gear'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-4419982699508923421</id><published>2007-05-09T10:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T10:10:19.019-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good ol' Sheriff Joe</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;What's the best part of living in Arizona, you ask? Well, today my answer would be: driving down a surface street (19th Ave, for those familiar with it) and seeing the sheriff's chain gang detail hard at work. And by chain gang, I mean matching black-and-white striped outfits with shackles&lt;span style="font-size:+0;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Sheriff Joe is the best!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mcso.org/index.php?a=GetModule&amp;mn=Sheriff_Bio"&gt;http://www.mcso.org/index.php?a=GetModule&amp;amp;mn=Sheriff_Bio&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-4419982699508923421?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/4419982699508923421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=4419982699508923421' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4419982699508923421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/4419982699508923421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/05/good-ol-sheriff-joe.html' title='Good ol&apos; Sheriff Joe'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-1997390861426588719</id><published>2007-04-30T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T10:13:49.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Weight Gain</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today I ran some errands over lunch and a cashier said to me, "Baby coming soon?" OK. Yes, I look pregnant. But the due date is 4 months away. Do I look THAT pregnant?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(Picture below is not related to abovementioned event. It is, however, the only picture I could find from the time frame involved.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062609719740868514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RkIAt52YJ6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/acTEpWweNIQ/s200/Julie_cows_lincolnparkzoo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-1997390861426588719?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/1997390861426588719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=1997390861426588719' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/1997390861426588719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/1997390861426588719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/04/weight-gain.html' title='Weight Gain'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_O2Pdfd-VhOs/RkIAt52YJ6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/acTEpWweNIQ/s72-c/Julie_cows_lincolnparkzoo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-117524718906156677</id><published>2007-03-30T03:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-30T03:33:09.073-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My first insight...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think I know why people get in elevators and hit the floor buttons repeatedly.  Here in Glasgow, none of the elevators (or "lifts") I've been in have "door close" buttons.  Only "door open" buttons.  So the way to get the door to close immediately is to hit the floor keys.  This may be my first insight into annoying people.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(And yes, I too have been known to annoyingly hit floor buttons repeatedly.  Rarely.  Rarely.  And usually only to be funny.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-117524718906156677?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/117524718906156677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=117524718906156677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/117524718906156677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/117524718906156677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/03/my-first-insight.html' title='My first insight...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-117517333414737796</id><published>2007-03-29T06:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T07:02:14.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Is it mine?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This week I've been reminded of something that I've never understood.  There are about 50-75 of us at any given time working in one large room and several nearby conference rooms.  Cubicle walls are low and plenty of work is being done in small groups.  Thus, it can get noisy at times, especially with cell phones and office phones ringing here and there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Today a cell phone rang a distinctive tune and about 4 people grabbed for their phones.  Now, I'm not saying it's not possible that these 4 people had the same ring tone.  BUT.  Chances are good that they didn't all share this particular tune.  So what I don't get is why people reach for their cell phones just because they hear a phone ringing.  If it's not your ring tone, what on earth are you doing?  I see it all the time and it drives me nuts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-117517333414737796?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/117517333414737796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=117517333414737796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/117517333414737796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/117517333414737796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/03/is-it-mine.html' title='Is it mine?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-117517264478733661</id><published>2007-03-29T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T06:50:44.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to the UK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So it's been awhile since I've posted.  What can I say, life's been busy.  But here I am in Glasgow, Scotland, working long hours every day of the week.  (That's sort of a lie.  We weren't in the office on Sunday--we just had to be "on call," whatever that's supposed to mean to a person who doesn't have a cell phone that works over here, nor is sitting in front of her laptop, connected to the Honeywell network.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;My first "Welcome to the UK" moment happened within the first hour of checking into my Marriott hotel room.  I thought I had found the refrigerator, until I opened it and realized that I was staring at the mini bar.  I noticed a Smirnoff Ice bottle and picked it up to examine the difference from its US counterpart.  As I was holding the bottle in my right hand, I happened to noticed the "Move us and we'll charge!" sign on the inside of the mini bar door.  Basically, the mini-bar was sensored so that even if you move something, it'll be charged to your room.  So not only was I looking at paying about $7 for a bottle of Smirnoff Ice...I couldn't even drink it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;(As a follow-up to this story, I did not get charged for moving the Smirnoff Ice.  They must have written me off as an ignorant American, with which I'm perfectly OK.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-117517264478733661?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/117517264478733661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=117517264478733661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/117517264478733661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/117517264478733661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2007/03/welcome-to-uk.html' title='Welcome to the UK'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-116658684647339894</id><published>2006-12-19T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T20:54:06.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who you gonna call?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So I just found a 350-minute prepaid phone card in my purse.  You know, those things that people used to pay for long-distance phone calls before everyone over the age of 9 purchased a cell phone?  Anywho, so I know my mom gave this to me before I got my first cell phone, which was December 2000.  Which puts this prepaid phone card at about 6.5-7 years old.  I thought it would be amusing to check the balance on it.  Turns out I have 269 minutes remaining.  Apparently this was before they came up with the idea of "let's charge the consumer 5 minutes per day if their card goes into inactive mode."  I don't know who I'm gonna call, but you might want to plant yourself by your phone just in case.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-116658684647339894?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/116658684647339894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=116658684647339894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116658684647339894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116658684647339894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/12/who-you-gonna-call.html' title='Who you gonna call?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-116536114573770340</id><published>2006-12-05T16:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T16:25:45.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Count much?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I see that it's been awhile since I posted.  Unfortunately for you, I have nothing fantastic to say right now except to comment on my previous post.  After a midnight wandering on the golf cart trails last night, it would appear as though I actually live on the 14th hole, not the 15th hole.  I know.  I'm such a disappointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-116536114573770340?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/116536114573770340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=116536114573770340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116536114573770340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116536114573770340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/12/count-much.html' title='Count much?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-116235505641454295</id><published>2006-10-31T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-31T21:24:16.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Golf anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Guess what I found on my balcony the other day?!  A golf ball!  Ahhhhhh, the joys of living on the 15th hole...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-116235505641454295?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/116235505641454295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=116235505641454295' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116235505641454295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116235505641454295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/10/golf-anyone.html' title='Golf anyone?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-116112973409527097</id><published>2006-10-17T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-17T17:02:14.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scorpion #4</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've lived in my apartment for almost six months now and last night scorpion visitor #4 was put to death.  I was sitting in my big chair, half paying attention to the tv while talking on the phone.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my carpet move.  The sneaky little bugger was crawling near the baseboards and basically blended right into the carpet.  After screaming, hyperventilating, shaking, running in circles, etc., for 10-15 minutes, I dug out my "Scorpion Cup" from underneath the kitchen sink and trapped the scorpion on my living room carpet.  Then I put a book on top of the cup to weigh it down.  Meanwhile, I'm still on the phone.  I convinced my friend to come over and kill it for me.  Keep in mind that it's practically the middle of the night -- about 3 am before the ordeal was finished.  We tortured it with rubbing alcohol on the kitchen floor, scalded and drowned it with hot water, and took it out to the balcony and burned it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I don't get it, though.  FOUR SCORPIONS IN SIX MONTHS.  I know people who have lived in the desert for years and they've never seen one.  Why me?  I realize I live on a golf course and there's actual desert landscaping not 5 feet from my balcony.  However, I'm on the 2nd floor.  Aren't there any residents to "bug" (I'm clever, I know) on the 1st floor?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;In the end, I only slept for 3 hours because it took a couple hours to actually get the courage to kill it and a couple hours to wind down and catch my breath.  It could be worse, though... or maybe not.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So who's coming to visit me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-116112973409527097?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/116112973409527097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=116112973409527097' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116112973409527097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116112973409527097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/10/scorpion-4.html' title='Scorpion #4'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-116102961393849597</id><published>2006-10-16T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T13:13:33.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dove chocolates</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I love Dove chocolates.  Especially the dark chocolates.  And they have these "cute" little sayings on the foil wrappers.  The one I just read was, "Happiness is sharing chocolate with a friend."  From this I can conclude that I will never be happy...I don't make it a habit to share my chocolates.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-116102961393849597?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/116102961393849597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=116102961393849597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116102961393849597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116102961393849597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/10/dove-chocolates.html' title='Dove chocolates'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-116089301935185256</id><published>2006-10-14T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-14T23:16:59.360-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Shower record</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I think I just set a new record for taking the longest shower without actually accomplishing anything.  The point of my shower was to scrub off the paint that had accumulated during an 8-hour painting stint at my friend's new house.  When I got out of the shower, I realized that at least 75% of the paint was still on me.  Yet my fingers and toes were starting to turn pruney, thus indicating a somewhat lengthy shower outing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;You see, the shower (and this may be too much information for some of you, so I encourage you to stop reading now if this is going to embarrass you) is where I practice telling my stories.  It helps me to remember them so that I can re-tell them to others while minimizing the number of times my tongue gets all tangled up over my words (which is inevitably going to happen anyway, since it is ME we're talking about).  As it turns out, the stories in my head tonight were funny enough that I couldn't stop laughing...to myself...in the shower...at 11 pm.  To top it all off, I've been out of the shower for less than 10 minutes and I can't even remember what I was laughing at.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Bummer dude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-116089301935185256?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/116089301935185256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=116089301935185256' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116089301935185256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/116089301935185256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/10/shower-record.html' title='Shower record'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115972830450237677</id><published>2006-10-01T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T11:45:04.560-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I woke up this morning with my shoulder sockets hating me.  It's good to know that a hike up Camelback will do that to my upper body.  Now I just need to figure out what type of exercise will make my legs sore.  WHY AREN'T MY LEGS SORE?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;As for an update on the sunburn sitch-e-ation...good news.  My nose seems to be the only victim.  I suspect the minimal peeling may start (and end) tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115972830450237677?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115972830450237677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115972830450237677' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115972830450237677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115972830450237677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115968471888838969</id><published>2006-09-30T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-30T23:38:38.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My day started at 5:50 this morning, when I amazingly pulled myself out of bed.  I know.  It's Saturday AND that's two hours earlier than I woke up for work this past week (the earliest I woke up this week was 7:30 and that was honestly only because my new bed was supposed to be delivered between 8:30 and 12:30 that day).  But I was talked into hiking Camelback Mtn for the first time ever and being a competitive soul, I couldn't back down.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Fourteen hours later, after having accomplished that feat, I've decided that I'm pretty sure I could teach a crash course in all of the wrong things to do while hiking.  For instance, trying out your new joke (you know, the one that probably only &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; will think is funny) is not a good idea while climbing down the rocky part that's as slippery as ice with virtually no hand-holds (not sure if that's a valid term, but it fits in well so I think I'll use it).  Not only was I the only one who heard the joke (apparently people had other things to concentrate on), but I was the only one who laughed.  &lt;em&gt;Somehow&lt;/em&gt; that resulted in me crossing my feet over each other, getting one temporarily stuck in a crevice, and almost tripping myself.  Also, when using the handrails on the rocky part, do try to use as much leg power as possible.  I'm pretty sure I pulled something in my arm and for that to happen while &lt;em&gt;hiking&lt;/em&gt; is just plain embarrassing.  Last, but not least, make sure that on the descent, you're the last one in your group.  That way, your pals can't laugh at you when you slip on that stray patch of gravel and end up sliding sort of on your butt, "butt" mostly in a squatting position, for approximately 4 feet.  My hands acted as damage control -- no idea how I didn't break any skin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The good news about the hike is that it is far more manageable than I presumed it to be.  Maybe it was the rest stops every 20 feet, or maybe it was the 3 gallons of water I was carrying on my back... but I lived to tell about it and will definitely be going back.  Plus, I think I lost at least an inch off of each of my thighs and an inch off my waistline.  According to my calculations, I should be down 4 dress sizes by the end of October.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;After the hike and quick bite to eat, Jen and I showered up to head down to Tempe for the ASU football game.  It did not even cross my mind that sunscreen would be a good idea in an outdoor stadium in 100-degree weather.  That is, until I found out that our seats would be directly in the sun.  Needless to say, I may have suffered the 4th all-time worst sunburn.  Some of you (Renee, Tom, and Kyle in particular) may remember the September 2006 sunburn from the outing in the right field bleachers at Wrigley Field.  That took 3rd place.  First and second places are a toss-up between the July 2003 Florida burn (remember those pictures, Rousey?) and the [approximately] June 2000 Arizona burn (the one where the 2.5 hour plane ride home the next day felt like the longest day of my life).  So anyway, tomorrow I will know exactly how bad this sunburn is.  Nothing hurts...yet.  However, I have some major tank top "tan" lines and my nose is a suspicious shade of red.  Yuck.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;By the time the game ended (ha, we left after the 3rd quarter because ASU was playing horribly), I was sooooooooo ready for a nap.  (Call me a 3-year-old, but sometimes I just need my afternoon nap.)  But nope, it was time to head to the west Valley for a potluck (which, I've been told several times today, is something that only old people do after church...au contraire, mes amis!)  Good times were had and all I can say is... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You know it's a successful potluck when you end up bringing home &lt;em&gt;more&lt;/em&gt; than you initially brought.  Tonight I spent $3.58 on garlic bread and came home with a tuxedo truffle cake, strawberries and cool whip (hehe), and two 2-liters of soda.  Now &lt;em&gt;that&lt;/em&gt; is what I consider a job well done on my part.  It almost makes up for the sunburn.  NOT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;And with that, I'm off to bed.  No part of my body is going to appreciate the 7:11 am alarm that I will hopefully not forget to set before I hop (yes, literally) into bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Good nighty, sleep tighty!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115968471888838969?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115968471888838969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115968471888838969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115968471888838969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115968471888838969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/what-day.html' title='What a day!'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115956445247688993</id><published>2006-09-29T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-29T14:14:13.820-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New bed</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday morning I officially upgraded my bed from full size to queen size (my new favorite furniture store in the Valley is the RoomStore).  The most significant difference is that I feel like the bed is huge.  I used to sleep diagonally in my full size bed.  Now I can sleep any direction and not be hanging off the edge.  (Although I prefer to sleep with my feet hanging off the edge sometimes, so I guess I will just have to adjust.)  This new bed huge-ness leads me to believe that my bed can comfortably sleep 4 people.  (Anyone who wants to help me test that theory...lemme know...)  In addition, the four pillows I currently use on my bed are not going to be nearly enough with all the extra space.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So yesterday afternoon as I was working from home, like a kid in a candy shop, I excitedly washed my new bed linens and put them on the bed (wait a second, what does a kid in a candy shop care about new bed linens??).  Then I washed the new duvet I purchased last weekend, stuffed the new down comforter inside and threw it on the bed.  I now have a problem.  I have two beds with two duvets that I like.  I can't decide which one to officially put in my bedroom and which one to put on the guest bedroom bed.  One is green (and cost me $200) and the other is red (only cost $100).  The green one is the one I had been dreaming about for so many years, but...I do have a thing for red, too.  It's a toss-up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The first night in the new bed was great!  Although I see another problem.  Normally it takes me about an hour after the alarm goes off before I consider myself fully coherent and having the "yeah, I should really get ready for work" mindset.  This morning it took me &lt;u&gt;TWO HOURS&lt;/u&gt; to get out of bed.  Not good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Last but not least... the new bed is a lot higher off the ground than the old bed.  I have been hopping up into it.  Not sure how necessary that is, but it makes me giggle when I do it, so I'll continue doing it.  And only because my other option would be to make a running start at the bed and we all know I would manage to trip somewhere along that path...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115956445247688993?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115956445247688993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115956445247688993' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115956445247688993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115956445247688993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/new-bed.html' title='New bed'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115922749927933107</id><published>2006-09-25T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T16:38:20.540-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fall is here.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's late September.  The leaves in MN are turning color, some of them are probably starting to fall, and families are making or will soon be making visits to the local apple orchards.  Football is on all weekend and baseball playoffs are fast approaching.  Yep, fall has arrived and so should have the cool, crisp air and smell of wood-burning fireplaces.  But nope.  I'm in the dry desert of Phoenix and the concept of autumn here is drastically different than what my 26 years of living in MN thinks it should be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The other night I wanted to wear a hooded sweatshirt to a high school football game.  It just seemed like the normal thing to do.  I'm glad I decided against it because I ended up sweating in just my little tee as it was.  (Although I kept a zip-up sweatshirt in the car just in case the winds shifted.  Ok, I'll be honest, I just laughed out loud because the weather doesn't really change like that around here.  And there's definitely no body of water like Lake Superior that could possibly cause anything lake-effect related.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Also, I'm a big fan of PJ pants.  I have my favorite pairs of flannel pants (especially the cowprint ones that my lil bro's wife made me for Christmas a few years ago) and I attempted to wear one pair to bed last night.  I made sure the air conditioning was going strong so I wouldn't sweat to death, but I didn't even get the down comforter pulled up all the way before I was out of bed, stomping to the closet to find an outfit that would allow me to sleep through the night and not wake up soaked with sweat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;It's frustrating.  Every part of my body believes that it's time to break out the sweaters and hoodies and verify that the winter boots, mittens, scarves, hats, and jackets are in working order.  Something tells me I should have left all that stuff in MN for my winter visits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I guess I'm just going to have to roadtrip to Flagstaff one weekend per month to get my fix of sub-80 degree weather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115922749927933107?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115922749927933107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115922749927933107' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115922749927933107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115922749927933107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/fall-is-here.html' title='Fall is here.'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115887825526233456</id><published>2006-09-21T15:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T15:37:36.580-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parking dilemma</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Due to construction around my work facility, various parking lots have been closed, re-opened, closed again, re-opened again, etc.  It didn't really affect me until this past Monday, when I arrived at work to find that "my" lot is now closed.  It wasn't exactly the closest one to the building but I liked parking there because it didn't require me walking around the building in the creepiness that is the "after-hours."  And besides, to park in any of the closer lots would have required me arriving at work before 8:00 am.  Not always possible.  I have no good reason as to why that's usually not possible, but it is attributable to my late bedtime and comfortable bed.  Back to the story... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I arrived at work on Monday at 10 am.  (You don't have to ask.  I'll tell you.  I had a disagreement with my alarm clock -- apparently no one told it that I had just returned from Vegas late the night before.)  My lot was closed, so I drove to the "creepy" lot.  It was full.  I drove around to the back of the building.  Open spots, but I had no clue where a building entrance was and I wasn't too anxious to find out.  Continued driving around the building and reached the front.  Nothing directly in front of the building.  Duh.  It's 10:05.  No one who got there at 7 am has any reason to be leaving their parking space at 10:05 am.  I did manage to find a spot in the newly reopened parking lot on the south side (a long way from the front door and an even longer walk through the building to my office area).  This whole adventure added another 10 minutes to already atrociously late arrival.  (And then when I passed about 13 gabillion empty parking spaces in the front designated as "Medical," that just about put the icing on the cake.  I mean, seriously, could there really be that many people at one time with medical issues??)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;These are my conclusions:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;1) To get a primo parking spot, I should arrive at 11 pm the night before work actually starts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;2) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Suddenly, the idea of breaking a leg doesn't sound like such a bad idea...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115887825526233456?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115887825526233456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115887825526233456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115887825526233456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115887825526233456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/parking-dilemma.html' title='Parking dilemma'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115887695024539703</id><published>2006-09-21T15:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-21T15:15:50.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Subway's the place...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;You know what's painful about people over the age of 50 in line ahead of you at Subway?  Everything.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;This woman had no clue what was being asked of her.  "Ma'am, was that a 6-inch or a footlong?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;"Yes, wheat please."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115887695024539703?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115887695024539703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115887695024539703' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115887695024539703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115887695024539703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/subways-place.html' title='Subway&apos;s the place...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115834046549672739</id><published>2006-09-15T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-15T10:14:25.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dressing rooms</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Last night I went to Kohls and grabbed 4 shirts to try on.  After I closed the fitting room door, the first thing I did was kick off my shoes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Go figure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115834046549672739?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115834046549672739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115834046549672739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115834046549672739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115834046549672739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/dressing-rooms.html' title='Dressing rooms'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115802697223702408</id><published>2006-09-11T19:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T19:09:32.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am messy.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It's a good thing I don't have people over to eat very often.  I'm a messy eater in general and when I'm in the comfort of my own home, by myself, I'm at my "finest."  The other night, as I was eating a salad, I managed (in one bite) to get salad dressing on my cheekbone and on my chin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115802697223702408?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115802697223702408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115802697223702408' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115802697223702408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115802697223702408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/i-am-messy.html' title='I am messy.'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115802676305559142</id><published>2006-09-11T18:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-11T19:06:03.066-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicken Pot Pie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I seem to have the ability to turn almost any trivial activity or matter into something ridiculous.  For instance, last week I made chicken pot pie for dinner.  This is quite possibly the simplest recipe ever, so there was no reason for it to turn into such a big production.  I started mixing the cream of chicken soup, vegetables, and chicken in the wrong size corningware dish.  So then I transferred it to the larger one, but in the process, I managed to fling a spatula-full of mixture all over my cupboards, counter, and even the wall.  Once I finally put the meal in the oven, I thought I was good to go.  Until the timer on the microwave went off.  I checked on the pot pie and decided it needed to stay in a few more minutes.  The problem was that I didn't reset the timer because I figured I could remember to check on it.  I have no idea why I repeatedly tell myself that I won't forget, because let's face it, I &lt;em&gt;will &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;forget.  Needless to say, as I was tending to my myspace addiction, I forgot about the pot pie.  Fortunately, nothing burned.  Except for me.  While I was taking the pot pie out of the oven, I burned my forearm just above the elbow (who manages that??) because I bumped it on the oven door.  I refused to run cold water over it because I decided that dealing with the burn would be my punishment for being so stupid.  And one week later, I'm still nursing my now-scabbed wound.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Wow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115802676305559142?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115802676305559142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115802676305559142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115802676305559142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115802676305559142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/chicken-pot-pie.html' title='Chicken Pot Pie'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115793584788314677</id><published>2006-09-10T17:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-10T17:50:47.893-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Football's back!!!</title><content type='html'>Female sports reporters should be illegal.  The concept alone is atrocious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115793584788314677?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115793584788314677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115793584788314677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115793584788314677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115793584788314677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/09/footballs-back.html' title='Football&apos;s back!!!'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115695966867628774</id><published>2006-08-30T10:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-30T10:41:08.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's the cure for the common cold?</title><content type='html'>Sometime within the last few days, I picked up a teensy weensy sore throat (which has since disappeared), a stuffed (yet runny) nose, and plugged ears.  Plus, I can't stop sneezing.  And as luck would have it, sometime during the night, I was run over by a cement truck because that's pretty much how I feel today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, at work we have parking spots close to the entrances that are designated as "MEDICAL."  I wonder who I have to sweet-talk to get one of those spots while I fight this cold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115695966867628774?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115695966867628774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115695966867628774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115695966867628774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115695966867628774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/whats-cure-for-common-cold.html' title='What&apos;s the cure for the common cold?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115688833214569514</id><published>2006-08-29T14:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T14:52:12.153-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good customer service</title><content type='html'>It's official!  The world's nicest and happiest people work at In-N-Out Burger.  Everyone was smiling and cheerful and wished me a great day.  Perhaps I would have been that happy had I not been sitting in a 109 degree car with the sun shining in the driver's side, blasting the air conditioning (which did not seem to be working AT ALL), and sweating through my dry-clean-only pants.  Even the guy sweeping up litter in the parking lot and drive-thru lane had a smile on his face.  Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it's never a good idea to eat your In-N-Out cheeseburger over your workpapers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115688833214569514?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115688833214569514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115688833214569514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115688833214569514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115688833214569514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/good-customer-service.html' title='Good customer service'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115682731886939371</id><published>2006-08-28T21:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T21:55:55.010-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for dinner?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I just had one of my most random dinners ever: white rice with Italian dressing, a hot dog with ketchup and mustard (no bun -- but only because I don't have any bread whatsoever in my kitchen, for reasons unbeknownst to me), and sugar snap peas. Plus my drink of choice -- milk (I hear it does a body good)! Oh, and I found a fortune cookie on the counter, leftover from my outing to Pei Wei last week. I have no problems combining random foods to make a meal, although I realize it probably will not win me any "Hostess of the Year" awards if I ever decide to throw a party. And I'm fine with that. I still remember my mother scolding me as a wee young lass, when I would smash together my corn, mashed potatoes, and porcupine meatballs (seriously, if you don't know what porcupine meatballs are -- and I'm guessing you don't -- you are missing out!!!!). To this day, I still don't understand why it bothered her so much to see me mix it all together. It all ends up in the same place, right? And at least I was a good eater, right??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115682731886939371?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115682731886939371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115682731886939371' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115682731886939371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115682731886939371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/whats-for-dinner.html' title='What&apos;s for dinner?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115506197577022587</id><published>2006-08-08T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T11:32:55.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's for lunch?</title><content type='html'>On most work days, I leave the building for lunch because my eyes and skin require exposure to the sun in order to retain what little sanity I have.  I usually frequent fine dining establishments such as Sonic, Chick-Fil-A, McDonalds, Subway, Samurai Sam's, Fazoli's, Paradise Bakery, etc.  Or if the Twins are playing an afternoon game, I can be talked into taking a 2-hr lunch break in my apartment living room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the days I decide to be productive at work and eat at my desk, I pack a lunch.  In theory, this is a good idea because I eat potentially healthier food and complete my work in a timely and efficient manner.  However, it never fails that the lunch I bring is 90% eaten by 10 am.  This is inevitably a direct result of skipping breakfast on a consistent basis.  So today I have attempted a new feat.  Not only did I eat a bowl of cereal (Life, in case you are wondering) before leaving the apartment, but I also packed &lt;u&gt;three&lt;/u&gt; samwiches for lunch.  I normally only make two.  My other lunch snacks for today are Rold Gold pretzels, cinnamon Teddy Grahms, grapes, and 2 packages of fruit snacks.  Since today promises to be long (I have a telecon at 10 pm) and last night was even longer (I had telecons from 10 pm to 1 am), I hope that the food I have will keep me energized and last me through dinner as well.  But I'm not opposed to making a Sonic run this afternoon for a large cherry limeade.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115506197577022587?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115506197577022587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115506197577022587' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115506197577022587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115506197577022587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/whats-for-lunch.html' title='What&apos;s for lunch?'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115466032602703611</id><published>2006-08-03T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T19:58:46.063-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone loves a Twinkie</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today, my Sports Illustrated magazine arrived in the mail, just like it does every Thursday. But today was different. Because today's cover is sporting Joe Mauer. On the walk back to my apartment, I could not have been giddier (yes, that is a word -- I verified on dictionary.com). I even tripped over a speed bump because I was busy reading an article. Tomorrow I will frame the magazine and hang it in my cubicle at work. I am so happy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115466032602703611?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115466032602703611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115466032602703611' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115466032602703611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115466032602703611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/everyone-loves-twinkie.html' title='Everyone loves a Twinkie'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115462475571657426</id><published>2006-08-03T09:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-03T10:05:55.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Always Hungry</title><content type='html'>How early is too early for lunch?  I was absolutely, positively starved by 9:21 this morning.  I thought about heading out to find food, but then I wondered how many places were still serving the breakfast menu.  Fortunately, I was distracted by the Arizona Cardinals new stadium website for awhile and forgot about the hunger pains.  However, now it's 9:59 and I'm not any less hungry than before.  I think I'll aim to leave work at 10:41 for arrival at my restaurant of choice today (Chick-Fil-A) by 11.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whew.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115462475571657426?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115462475571657426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115462475571657426' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115462475571657426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115462475571657426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/always-hungry.html' title='Always Hungry'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115449192760839537</id><published>2006-08-01T21:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-01T21:12:07.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hog intestines</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tonight I was watching the Travel Channel and learned what chitlins are.  I think it's safe to say that I will never eat those.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;In other news, I have a telecon tomorrow morning at 5:30.  In fact, I have 4 telecons before 9 am.  If that sounds like fun to you, perhaps you would like to have my job.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Time for bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115449192760839537?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115449192760839537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115449192760839537' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115449192760839537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115449192760839537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/08/hog-intestines.html' title='Hog intestines'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115387377179982535</id><published>2006-07-25T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-25T17:34:35.190-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Picky Eater</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The other night I tried Ethiopian food for the very first time at a small cafe near ASU (Arizona State University, for you foreigners). I don't usually consider myself a picky eater, but most people would probably say that I am. I can't help it that my Scandinavian taste buds hurt just by hearing phrases such as "red hot chili peppers" or "medium salsa." So anyway, I went with 3 other girls and we ordered beef, chicken, and vegetables. The food is served on a big piece of injera (pronounced in-jeer-ah), which is a crepe-like sourdough-tasting bread (I didn't like the smell of it), with the meat in the middle and vegetables surrounding it. You also get a basket of smaller rolled-up pieces of injera, which are used as your silverware. Tear off a piece of injera the size of your palm, scoop up some food off the main platter and eat it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;OK, so the eating with my fingers I can do. I've been doing that with all types of food for quite some time now; it's only right that I be able to do it in a public place and without my mother telling me to grow up. The problem was with the taste of the food. It wasn't overwhelmingly spicy, but it just had an odd taste. No, wait. It was the smell and texture that bothered me more than anything. I basically tried 3 of the 5 vegetable globs and determined that I would be better off sticking to the beef. I ate enough to be polite and let the others take home the leftovers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;To sum up my feelings toward Ethiopian food, let me just say this: if I were to move to Ethiopia, I would lose 10 pounds....the first week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115387377179982535?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115387377179982535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115387377179982535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115387377179982535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115387377179982535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/07/picky-eater.html' title='Picky Eater'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115371672413477193</id><published>2006-07-23T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T21:54:03.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joe Mamma</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yesterday I wore my Joe Mamma shirt (for those of you unfamiliar with it, it is a green shirt with "JOE" written in yellow across the front and "MAMMA" written in yellow across the back) to Best Buy. My studies have shown that this is quite possibly my most popular item of clothing. Every time I wear it, someone (usually a complete stranger) comments on it. Yesterday was no exception. One guy, who appeared to be in his late teens or early 20's, said to me, "Hey, that shirt has my name on it!" I replied with, "Your name is Mamma?" He laughed, blushed, hung his head and said, "Very funny. My name is Joe."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I smirked and kept walking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115371672413477193?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115371672413477193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115371672413477193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115371672413477193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115371672413477193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/07/joe-mamma.html' title='Joe Mamma'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31564460.post-115371478248618709</id><published>2006-07-23T21:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T22:04:25.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In the beginning...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;In yet another attempt to conform to those nearest and dearest to me, I have started a blog. I know this excites most, if not all, of you. I can't promise that I will update this often. However, when I &lt;em&gt;do&lt;/em&gt; post, the subject matter will probably be an amusing or awkward story from the chaos I call my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/31564460-115371478248618709?l=foureyes009.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/feeds/115371478248618709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=31564460&amp;postID=115371478248618709' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115371478248618709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/31564460/posts/default/115371478248618709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://foureyes009.blogspot.com/2006/07/in-beginning.html' title='In the beginning...'/><author><name>Julie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06753504798780903833</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
