<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-2555033954251220102</id><updated>2024-11-01T06:34:36.937-04:00</updated><category term="Breastfeeding"/><title type='text'>A Sassy Mommas Chatter</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default?max-results=10'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default?start-index=11&amp;max-results=10'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>10</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-9207497119526455779</id><published>2013-05-20T21:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-20T21:13:49.955-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To my children with love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Dear children,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;There will come a day when you will all move out of the house, the echoes of laughter a pitter patters of feet will be no more. The refrigerator won&#39;t be filled with your school papers, there will be no more cute drawings left on the counter for me. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will probably cry. But most of those tears will be happiness.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;You will have your own home in which you take pride in. You will do the best you can to keep it clean after work. I will come to your home and throw legos and small pointy toys strategically all over your home, just wait till you step on one of those it&#39;ll feel like a nail going through your foot. I will gleefully pee on your bathroom floor and in the garbage just wait till you step in it. I will squirt the toothpaste all over the bathroom, wipe my butt on your shower curtain, and put poop on your bathroom walls.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will slam all of your doors, scream through your home, kick your walls and throw every item in my reach around the room. I will use a sharpie to tag your house, stick stickers everywhere and draw on the walls merrily with crayons. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will break the bed, break a window and break some other stuff just because it&#39;s fun. I will steal your phone and sneak into your room while sleeping to play on your laptop, so that way you can wake up and have a heart attack because you think someone broke in like I have many a night.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will scatter couch cushions and couch blankets, I will throw socks and shoes everywhere, and get food crumbs all over the place. I will spill my drink and not tell you and I will never finish anything you give me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will borrow your stuff without asking, I will use all of something and not tell you and that toilet paper you love all soft and dry I will dunk it in the water. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will talk through your shows, and stand in front of the TV. I will smear all your clean windows and mirrors and wipe my hands on every piece of furniture you have. I will throw my garbage beside the garbage can and everywhere else that&#39;s convenient, and I will hide food in the registers. While I&#39;m at it I jam pack those babies with whatever I can find.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I will do this everyday.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;For months.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;For years.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Paybacks are a bitch.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I love you all very much.&lt;br&gt;
Your loving mom.&lt;/p&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/9207497119526455779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/9207497119526455779?isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/9207497119526455779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/9207497119526455779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/to-my-children-with-love.html' title='To my children with love'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-3531015979196689740</id><published>2013-05-17T20:35:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-17T20:35:59.218-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG I lost the baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Did you see where he went?&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;S1: why are you looking at me I was eating &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;S2: me too&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Me: of course my luck you pick now to do what you&#39;re told &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I looked everywhere and couldn&#39;t find him then S2 yells he&#39;s behind the couch he&#39;s coming out.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Are you kidding me???? Oh he came out alright sticking his tongue out and giggling his I&#39;m up to no good kinda way and ran around the couch to do it all over again...who needs to buy expensive tunnels to crawl through? This way he&#39;s guaranteed his brothers will never roll him around in it.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;div class=&#39;separator&#39; style=&#39;clear: both; text-align: center;&#39;&gt; &lt;a href=&#39;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpPU-fqR71rWgNtfCbqEfw8o6dHy19wwrWOKwIBjTfKyAMi1RaOe4zquWAYHsR0nhb1ZVKhW4UBcCXBeAxSlppmpGquoiznk6ikU8DyWe0M8Q2UmTxFefgMz9_Wjochs0heQ3sGbydR_R/s1600/PicsArt_1368836821894.jpg&#39; imageanchor=&#39;1&#39; style=&#39;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&#39;&gt; &lt;img border=&#39;0&#39; src=&#39;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpPU-fqR71rWgNtfCbqEfw8o6dHy19wwrWOKwIBjTfKyAMi1RaOe4zquWAYHsR0nhb1ZVKhW4UBcCXBeAxSlppmpGquoiznk6ikU8DyWe0M8Q2UmTxFefgMz9_Wjochs0heQ3sGbydR_R/s320/PicsArt_1368836821894.jpg&#39; /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/3531015979196689740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/3531015979196689740?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/3531015979196689740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/3531015979196689740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/omg-i-lost-baby.html' title='OMG I lost the baby'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpPU-fqR71rWgNtfCbqEfw8o6dHy19wwrWOKwIBjTfKyAMi1RaOe4zquWAYHsR0nhb1ZVKhW4UBcCXBeAxSlppmpGquoiznk6ikU8DyWe0M8Q2UmTxFefgMz9_Wjochs0heQ3sGbydR_R/s72-c/PicsArt_1368836821894.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-8169409430890640982</id><published>2013-05-15T20:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-15T20:56:05.724-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I still think you&amp;#39;re perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Tomorrow morning Boo me and you will go to the opthalmologist because you might have a lazy eye. I wonder if you do how do you see the world, how do you see me. This isn&#39;t a big deal I know but I lay here tonight feeling sorry for you. I know you hate strangers and especially men and this guys going to be all up in your grill. I wish I could do it for you, I wish your world would be filled with fairies, rainbows and farting unicorns. I promise tomorrow after the doctor we&#39;ll go feed the ducks.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;div class=&#39;separator&#39; style=&#39;clear: both; text-align: center;&#39;&gt; &lt;a href=&#39;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa5aPS11_Oz_lzTsSuVIuPGnWcEf4_S8NdWRVzc1Oz38thopyi6XhseSL-MIr0kLFj5PpH7rc78RAINR8x8vyPJ2L5M_0VO4kkvHP-_IZzEi9Xlnk1DwGePRygMikaCrWlWgLrfUQCrd3/s1600/IMG_20130502_114056_wm.jpg&#39; imageanchor=&#39;1&#39; style=&#39;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&#39;&gt; &lt;img border=&#39;0&#39; src=&#39;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa5aPS11_Oz_lzTsSuVIuPGnWcEf4_S8NdWRVzc1Oz38thopyi6XhseSL-MIr0kLFj5PpH7rc78RAINR8x8vyPJ2L5M_0VO4kkvHP-_IZzEi9Xlnk1DwGePRygMikaCrWlWgLrfUQCrd3/s320/IMG_20130502_114056_wm.jpg&#39; /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/8169409430890640982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/8169409430890640982?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/8169409430890640982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/8169409430890640982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/i-still-think-you-perfect.html' title='I still think you&amp;#39;re perfect'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa5aPS11_Oz_lzTsSuVIuPGnWcEf4_S8NdWRVzc1Oz38thopyi6XhseSL-MIr0kLFj5PpH7rc78RAINR8x8vyPJ2L5M_0VO4kkvHP-_IZzEi9Xlnk1DwGePRygMikaCrWlWgLrfUQCrd3/s72-c/IMG_20130502_114056_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-7438127356445812078</id><published>2013-05-13T20:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-15T20:30:14.749-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It won&amp;#39;t be long...but not today</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;Dear Boo,&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;You turn 10 months old today and I feel sad, you&#39;ve been walking for two months, you already show such independence that it makes me miss the little boy I gave birth to. I want to rewind and live these ten months over again, I want you to be a newborn again and hit pause and linger in those first few days when you were brand new, I know I&#39;ll never get to and I do love you as you are right now. I savor every day with you I linger in it at night after you&#39;re long asleep because I know I&#39;ll miss it tomorrow. I miss everyday that has passed. &lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;You haven&#39;t said your first words yet and I&#39;m in no hurry for you too. Your babbles are to precious to rush. It won&#39;t be long when you are talking and I will enjoy that too...but not today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I love snuggling with you while we sleep, I love even more when you sleep between me and daddy and we all sleep together. It won&#39;t be long till you want your own bed...but not today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I love our bath time together we play with toys you walk all over the tub without fear of falling. You throw your toys out of the tub then you&#39;re sad when I can&#39;t reach them. Eventually you&#39;ll have to stop being scared of being in the tub by yourself. Eventually you&#39;ll think mom takes up too much playing room it won&#39;t be long that you&#39;ll be bathing by yourself...but not today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;You love nursing you throw yourself in my lap and try to lift my shirt and you giggle because you&#39;re excited. You want your cuddle time, or your sip and go. It won&#39;t be long and you won&#39;t breastfeed anymore, one day you won&#39;t be my nursling and I&#39;ll cry that day...but not today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;One day you&#39;ll grow up, one day mommy won&#39;t be able to kiss away booboo&#39;s, one day before I know it you&#39;ll be a handsome little boy. You&#39;ll go to school, you&#39;ll have friends, playing with mommy won&#39;t be fun, and you won&#39;t rely on me for everything. I&#39;m not rushing it I&#39;m trying to savor every passing moment, I will never take it for granted because it won&#39;t be long till your next milestone to show you&#39;re getting older...and thankfully it won&#39;t be today.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;I love you my precious baby boy to the moon and back.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;div class=&#39;separator&#39; style=&#39;clear: both; text-align: center;&#39;&gt; &lt;a href=&#39;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjVzG8dPxZFuyHlcngeQOP-fdNHlaf9TAjSaR32kcy88tQ9hDIBp-0xHImJbXMuCNTEu8nFUX-i3QuUJpaat1aALt_iy4f7TsbuyeZ37EngM3AkDWyU-dceHAOObScSrhwBo_jgV91Tte/s1600/C360_2013-04-30-16-25-01_wm.jpg&#39; imageanchor=&#39;1&#39; style=&#39;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&#39;&gt; &lt;img border=&#39;0&#39; src=&#39;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjVzG8dPxZFuyHlcngeQOP-fdNHlaf9TAjSaR32kcy88tQ9hDIBp-0xHImJbXMuCNTEu8nFUX-i3QuUJpaat1aALt_iy4f7TsbuyeZ37EngM3AkDWyU-dceHAOObScSrhwBo_jgV91Tte/s320/C360_2013-04-30-16-25-01_wm.jpg&#39; /&gt; &lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/7438127356445812078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/7438127356445812078?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/7438127356445812078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/7438127356445812078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/it-won-be-longbut-not-today.html' title='It won&amp;#39;t be long...but not today'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyjVzG8dPxZFuyHlcngeQOP-fdNHlaf9TAjSaR32kcy88tQ9hDIBp-0xHImJbXMuCNTEu8nFUX-i3QuUJpaat1aALt_iy4f7TsbuyeZ37EngM3AkDWyU-dceHAOObScSrhwBo_jgV91Tte/s72-c/C360_2013-04-30-16-25-01_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-7575902159764250263</id><published>2013-05-07T22:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-13T20:29:47.584-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I breastfeed spontaneously don&amp;#39;t look if it makes you uncomfortable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI3KjKkuPR7zN3VUh1tr8qPZvcuUVOuu6Siql7UYYqS717sGxCOpGo0TSq-gD0psc4exrWn5aJPLHBaN8oTzUj15BH4HQHe_tYai6J8RnbwxUQd-NxTYOZpql_UXCr61mtzspoo5fep4M/s1600/C360_2013-04-24-19-17-26_wm.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI3KjKkuPR7zN3VUh1tr8qPZvcuUVOuu6Siql7UYYqS717sGxCOpGo0TSq-gD0psc4exrWn5aJPLHBaN8oTzUj15BH4HQHe_tYai6J8RnbwxUQd-NxTYOZpql_UXCr61mtzspoo5fep4M/s200/C360_2013-04-24-19-17-26_wm.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So today I was looking up something about breastfeeding...I don&#39;t remember what it was anymore but I came across teaching you&#39;re nursling manners...huh never thought of that. Well I wanted to know what other people thought of it and I came across some blogs that talked about breastfeeding manners and breastfeeding etiquette again things I never thought much of. I got pissed off, use a cover, don&#39;t just whip out your boob and go sit in the corner. I mean really.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;
Look I don&#39;t want anyone seeing my boobs anymore then you want to see my boobs. But you don&#39;t want to hear my screaming baby either because if I let my baby scream while I get my cover find a corner to go sit my fat ass in you&#39;d blog about the ridiculous mom who had a screaming baby and was so inconsiderate to others feelings around her. Its a lose lose for me. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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My boobs are my babies food I&#39;m sorry this makes some people uncomfortable, actually I&#39;m not sorry again they are my babies food and I&#39;m proud of it. I&#39;m proud that I know every ingredient going into my babies body. Have you read a formula can? I have and I can&#39;t pronounce most of the words on it. Before I say this let me say I bottle fed 3 of my children I have nothing against it. People do it for many reasons. Now let me go on, our bodies naturally make milk to feed a baby just like animals. Why are breastfeeding moms constantly being chastised and told they make people feel uncomfortable. Next time I see a formula feeding mom should I walk up to her and say your bottle makes me uncomfortable please use a cover and sit in the corner. I mean really shouldn&#39;t it be that way her body didn&#39;t produce the formula, its not natural. Nobody takes the kittens away from their mom and says mommy milk is bad drink this yummy delicious can stuff instead. No we all say aaawww look at those kittens with their momma how precious. OH THATS RIGHT my boobs are sexual the cats aren&#39;t. And the saying if you got em flaunt em is OK and appreciated by most guys but if you&#39;re breastfeeding go sit in a corner you&#39;re gross and I don&#39;t care if I get a chance to see your nipple. It still baffles me.&lt;br /&gt;
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For those who don&#39;t know how to react around a breastfeeding mom, let me clue you in. I didn&#39;t notice you prebreastfeeding, I didn&#39;t notice you noticing my cleavage bearing shirt, too tight pants or short skirts. I notice even less of those around me when it comes to taking care of my baby. I&#39;m more worried about making his crying stop so I don&#39;t irritate those around me. I&#39;m more worried about getting him on my boob quickly so I don&#39;t make people around me uncomfortable cause I left my nipple for the world to see for to long. I don&#39;t notice you period. So why are you noticing me? I get it I have a crying baby everyone has to look because everyone wants me to shut him up, and at this point if you were minding your business instead of being a lookie loo you would never see my sexual forbidden parts come flopping out of my shirt. &lt;/div&gt;
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Look the bottom line is I try and be discreet, not for anyone else that&#39;s for sure, but for myself. Breastfeeding is for me and Boo and a cover separates us. I don&#39;t want people seeing my boobs but it happens get over it. You see more boobage in movies then you will ever see from me. Just so you know I don&#39;t tell you to stop scratching your balls and ass, or adjusting the boys, picking your nose or getting out of your car with your shirt off and women I don&#39;t tell you to put on more clothes, to stop picking wedgies or adjusting your boobs. So I&#39;d appreciate it if you wouldn&#39;t tell me when, where and how to breastfeed.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/7575902159764250263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/7575902159764250263?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/7575902159764250263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/7575902159764250263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/i-breastfeed-spontaneously-don-look-if.html' title='I breastfeed spontaneously don&amp;#39;t look if it makes you uncomfortable'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzI3KjKkuPR7zN3VUh1tr8qPZvcuUVOuu6Siql7UYYqS717sGxCOpGo0TSq-gD0psc4exrWn5aJPLHBaN8oTzUj15BH4HQHe_tYai6J8RnbwxUQd-NxTYOZpql_UXCr61mtzspoo5fep4M/s72-c/C360_2013-04-24-19-17-26_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-5831368378446102840</id><published>2013-05-06T21:21:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-13T20:30:01.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The doctor visit from hell</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UFv1RHuZqZOy4qysHpx-L9hyphenhyphenW-NnZILtTbk2XUFHGGYyyDhGabOvQLrzh63WIuSCU-A4qDrZGA1KcHPRoCh7Whgfrvjqjtbd5ya9gXOBPRIJJy37PfxOhEAYc-y-NHKP2bfI9KFXFnQd/s1600/IMG_20130506_115542_wm.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UFv1RHuZqZOy4qysHpx-L9hyphenhyphenW-NnZILtTbk2XUFHGGYyyDhGabOvQLrzh63WIuSCU-A4qDrZGA1KcHPRoCh7Whgfrvjqjtbd5ya9gXOBPRIJJy37PfxOhEAYc-y-NHKP2bfI9KFXFnQd/s320/IMG_20130506_115542_wm.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I prepared the best any mother could prepare I had all the necessities I was doing this alone so I needed to make sure Boo was prepared. I knew taking a baby to my annual pap smear wouldn&#39;t be fun but I had no other choice. &lt;br /&gt;
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We waited in the waiting room forever and luckily Boo made a friend, he was a grandpa looking man who made faces and cheered 20 minutes later when he got a half cocked smile. I was thankful to this man because of him Boo was happy to sit still. But then the man left us and immediately following that Boo was bored so I let him play with my camera he loves watching himself and unknowingly took pictures of himself. He giggled and found himself in the gallery and flicked through all the pictures, he was absolutely amazed.&lt;/div&gt;
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When it was my turn I had high hopes, I had a plan and Boo was in a good mood. I get back to the exam room put the stroller right next to the bed, disrobed and sat on the bed with the pile of toys. Everything was great the doctor came in and Boo cracked a smile for her. I lay back on the table she grabbed my arm and Boo started screaming like someone was killing him or me. I put my free arm down to comfort him and he wrapped both arms around me with his fiercest death grip. Oh he screamed the whole time, but as soon as she stopped touching me he stopped. Thankfully she was a good sport and just said &quot;boy someone is very protective over his momma.&quot; If she only knew, he won&#39;t even let daddy touch me.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/5831368378446102840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/5831368378446102840?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/5831368378446102840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/5831368378446102840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-doctor-visit-from-hell.html' title='The doctor visit from hell'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_UFv1RHuZqZOy4qysHpx-L9hyphenhyphenW-NnZILtTbk2XUFHGGYyyDhGabOvQLrzh63WIuSCU-A4qDrZGA1KcHPRoCh7Whgfrvjqjtbd5ya9gXOBPRIJJy37PfxOhEAYc-y-NHKP2bfI9KFXFnQd/s72-c/IMG_20130506_115542_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-8229143733786249091</id><published>2013-05-03T07:39:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-13T20:28:55.461-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Moms wishes for her children</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKy55wTEbEJLMXsmKgEoTun0uv4zvwQfBLkxXAwbinOHiGIUZKjNmLj-LGhNExvJqn4KPnfGTvu_lfExQctrDK1PV3vf0XvUP-yd0Bj_YHHPiUfU_Q98jgRpOhFnQ2LWhB2do_Xwx__MB/s1600/imagejpeg_2_5_wm.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKy55wTEbEJLMXsmKgEoTun0uv4zvwQfBLkxXAwbinOHiGIUZKjNmLj-LGhNExvJqn4KPnfGTvu_lfExQctrDK1PV3vf0XvUP-yd0Bj_YHHPiUfU_Q98jgRpOhFnQ2LWhB2do_Xwx__MB/s320/imagejpeg_2_5_wm.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you will always be filled with love. You have a heart use it. I hope you share that love with others around you. Most people deserve it.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you always remember family comes first. They&#39;re the ones who will help you up and dust you off when you fall...and you will fall. And we&#39;ll be standing by with ice cream when you do.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you learn to lose graciously and win without bragging. Play to play. Especially in life no one keeps score in life except spoiled brats and you aren&#39;t&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you get what you want just enough but not enough to make you unappreciative. Respect everything you have.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you realize life is unfair and to live happy anyways. There will always be people who have wealth and things handed to them. There will always be people who have things they don&#39;t deserve. Don&#39;t let it discourage you.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you dream big, I hope you reach for the stars, I hope you realize you&#39;re the only one who sets limits for yourself. You can do anything.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you have fun. Laugh. Live with meaning and live loud. Explore, life isn&#39;t about sitting at home watching TV, life is to be lived.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you begin and end every relationship with dignity and honour. Don&#39;t leave a relationship because its easy either. People fight deal with it. Don&#39;t stay in a relationship because its easier either. You need to know which is the right choice at the end of the day.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you&#39;re not a coward, I hope you stand up to bullies, I hope you stand up for someone else who&#39;s being bullied, looking the other way is just as bad as being the bully. I hope you&#39;re never the bully and if I catch you being the bully I will hold you and let them have a couple gos at you.&lt;/div&gt;
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For my sons...please never be the creepy old guy chasing around barely legal young girls. Women your age will talk about you and laugh at you and call you the creepy old guy. And if you&#39;re in your 50s she&#39;s not interested in you cause your hot she wants to know how fat your wallet is.&lt;/div&gt;
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For my girls...never marry for money. Don&#39;t marry a doctor or lawyer because you will be rich. You&#39;ll end up being unhappy and having cocktails with breakfast. Marry for love regardless of what their bank account looks like.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you fear just enough to keep you safe. There are fun things in life and stupid please don&#39;t do the stupid.&lt;/div&gt;
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I hope you remember that I&#39;m always here no matter what. I will always love you, regardless of the choices you make. I will love if you&#39;re right or wrong, my love is unconditional.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/8229143733786249091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/8229143733786249091?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/8229143733786249091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/8229143733786249091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/moms-wishes-for-her-children.html' title='Moms wishes for her children'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKy55wTEbEJLMXsmKgEoTun0uv4zvwQfBLkxXAwbinOHiGIUZKjNmLj-LGhNExvJqn4KPnfGTvu_lfExQctrDK1PV3vf0XvUP-yd0Bj_YHHPiUfU_Q98jgRpOhFnQ2LWhB2do_Xwx__MB/s72-c/imagejpeg_2_5_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-8914589498633141396</id><published>2013-05-01T21:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-13T20:31:30.336-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rules for fathers of sons</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08i2gqrYRGVOasy4T4BCYgrXNQzeHXItx0YQMSneup15pyGt5y8Bdno7Hw3SbnELE-ac69t47Eg3fA2NHBZpv3e75lIm8hAFuMQmgW0Ta1kc_CaTPvbEzRgZnnCvNVpl6XWhe0cD3HHN5/s1600/IMAG0221_wm.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;191&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08i2gqrYRGVOasy4T4BCYgrXNQzeHXItx0YQMSneup15pyGt5y8Bdno7Hw3SbnELE-ac69t47Eg3fA2NHBZpv3e75lIm8hAFuMQmgW0Ta1kc_CaTPvbEzRgZnnCvNVpl6XWhe0cD3HHN5/s320/IMAG0221_wm.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;1. Love his mother&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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It is from you that he will learn how to be a husband. Be compassionate when necessary, love with all your heart and respect her. He is watching you every moment, be the kind of husband you want him to be.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;2. Teach him to fight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Teach him how to be brave, how to stand up for himself. Wrestle with him, let him show you how strong he is and show him how strong you are. Most importantly teach him when to stand up for himself and when to walk away.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;3. Tell him you love him&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Tell him all the time that you love him even when you&#39;re angry...especially when you&#39;re angry.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;4. Teach him how to play catch&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Because all boys need to learn.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;5. Let him wear your clothes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Let him pretend to be you, because there&#39;s no one else that his mom wants him to be like.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;6. Teach him it&#39;s okay to cry&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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It&#39;s okay to teach them to be strong and manly, but they also need to know its okay to cry.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;7. Listen&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Even when he has nothing to say. &lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;8. Teach him how to work&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Let him change the oil, cut the grass and build a birdhouse. Teach him how to get his hands dirty.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;9. Teach him to choose his battles&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Teach him every battle isn&#39;t worth the fight. But without doubt your family is.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;10. Talk about sex&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Because its just embarrassing coming from mom.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;11. Teach him that mom always has the answers&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Even if she doesn&#39;t&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;12. Be his hero&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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You may not be able to fly or climb walls but you are his hero anyway. There&#39;s no one better then daddy.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;13. Teach him to be a father&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Tell him there&#39;s nothing better then being his dad, tell him how proud you are to be his father. And hope one day he will be a great father to.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;14. Kiss him while he sleeps&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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One day to soon will you miss being able to give him kisses.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;15. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teach&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;him&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;not&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;to&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;settle&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Especially with love and motorcycles&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;16. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;Teach&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;him&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;to&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;be&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;have&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;fun&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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They need to learn how to dance in the kitchen in their underwear. How to laugh and love life. They need to know that life can be fun.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/8914589498633141396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/8914589498633141396?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/8914589498633141396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/8914589498633141396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/05/rules-for-fathers-of-sons.html' title='Rules for fathers of sons'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj08i2gqrYRGVOasy4T4BCYgrXNQzeHXItx0YQMSneup15pyGt5y8Bdno7Hw3SbnELE-ac69t47Eg3fA2NHBZpv3e75lIm8hAFuMQmgW0Ta1kc_CaTPvbEzRgZnnCvNVpl6XWhe0cD3HHN5/s72-c/IMAG0221_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-1775035278845550989</id><published>2013-04-30T21:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-05-13T20:32:15.812-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Breastfeeding"/><title type='text'>Breastfeeding Confessions</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaGJdjz4AGU2E1e4Bg_NABGbUoWyn0SiAVsh6ml4w-pjWoL_V08-gjT73yXk0Ryd55cgAZ2W3GmuiXJK3YUv-EpVN1ufu2rpWuCUI4KOExPDeaJQtjZCb0SBbv2Y1v_KeSt1PBxLb8CyU/s1600/C360_2013-04-24-19-17-26_wm.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaGJdjz4AGU2E1e4Bg_NABGbUoWyn0SiAVsh6ml4w-pjWoL_V08-gjT73yXk0Ryd55cgAZ2W3GmuiXJK3YUv-EpVN1ufu2rpWuCUI4KOExPDeaJQtjZCb0SBbv2Y1v_KeSt1PBxLb8CyU/s320/C360_2013-04-24-19-17-26_wm.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;My&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;breasts&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;are&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;off&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;limits&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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They are food now and I don&#39;t know where you&#39;re hands have been and most importantly you don&#39;t share your food so Boo doesn&#39;t have to share his.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;don&#39;t&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;care&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;who&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;sees&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;boobs&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I&#39;ll pull those puppies out no matter where I&#39;m at and I don&#39;t care who I flash.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;don&#39;t&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;wear&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;a&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;bra&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;ever&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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It became to much of a hassle, I like easy access.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;leave&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;boobs&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;hanging&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;out&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;a&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;lot&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Sometimes I wonder why I even bother with shirts. I try and be pretty good about checking myself if I&#39;m out of the house or have to answer the door though.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;squeeze&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;breasts&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;all&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;the&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;time&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I forget which side is next, or sometimes when we&#39;re out I&#39;ll feel them to see if Boo is due for a feeding.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Leakage&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;doesn&#39;t&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;bother&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;me&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt; &lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;anymore&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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If it bothers anyone else tough titty, its my shirt that&#39;s wet and I never told you to look. It happens and I&#39;m over it.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I love how breastfeeding has given me confidence that I needed. I have gotten stares from people but all it made me want to do is squirt them with my booby gun. Breastfeeding has empowered me.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/1775035278845550989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/1775035278845550989?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/1775035278845550989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/1775035278845550989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/04/breastfeeding-confessions.html' title='Breastfeeding Confessions'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRaGJdjz4AGU2E1e4Bg_NABGbUoWyn0SiAVsh6ml4w-pjWoL_V08-gjT73yXk0Ryd55cgAZ2W3GmuiXJK3YUv-EpVN1ufu2rpWuCUI4KOExPDeaJQtjZCb0SBbv2Y1v_KeSt1PBxLb8CyU/s72-c/C360_2013-04-24-19-17-26_wm.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2555033954251220102.post-1735651653654018505</id><published>2013-04-25T06:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2013-04-25T06:18:47.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Babies could be sleeper agents</title><content type='html'>&lt;p dir=&quot;ltr&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;
Babies seem so cute and harmless how could anybody suspect them of terrorism? That&#39;s right I said it. I think they have a hidden agenda to take out one momma at a time. The other day I was having a great day when I noticed Booboo noticing that someone left the bathroom door open. He was doing his fastest monkey crawl to it and I was trying to beat him to shut the door. I swear once I got near him he grabbed my leg he must&#39;ve been really sick of me and thought it was time to take me out...it really isn&#39;t because I&#39;m a klutz. Well I got to the door before him with my face at least. I continued falling to the floor landing on my right pinky and my left elbow. I jumped up once I got my senses back and Boo was sitting behind me smiling. Within minutes my pinky swelled up started bruising and it hurt so bad to move it. That&#39;s when I suspected my little Boo was a sleeper agent...so I held him hostage and began my plan of torturing him for the truth. First it was the tickle torture...he didn&#39;t give anything up though. Then I kissed every inch of his cheeks, he fought back that time he sucked on my nose. By this time I meant business I wanted the truth so I pulled out my secret weapon a clean diaper. I laid him on the floor and told him he had one more chance to tell the truth or else. He wouldn&#39;t talk so I proceeded to change his diaper. He ran away. My efforts failed...but if you suspect your baby of terrorism the tickle torture is the best.&lt;/p&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/feeds/1735651653654018505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/2555033954251220102/1735651653654018505?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/1735651653654018505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2555033954251220102/posts/default/1735651653654018505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ladychristie.blogspot.com/2013/04/babies-could-be-sleeper-agents.html' title='Babies could be sleeper agents'/><author><name>Lady Christie</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646774130988132788</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDwqBpXdSPwd5a7ArWZQ_5uTpLyBu5NxIYoNGnHOptXZsF-hrNajTPshWZSi1WpV4kmuoaFCHULXXbVcxktjHpkN9G-AVZ_SCYiDPcuzLbh8GEQ0MHwI3WwS3SflldLLQ/s220/176119_1586256545496_1508274430_1178030_3523922_o.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>