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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIBRXc7eSp7ImA9WhRbGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469</id><updated>2012-02-11T13:12:34.901-06:00</updated><category term="Summer" /><category term="Reviews" /><category term="Baptism" /><category term="Conferences" /><category term="Anthony" /><category term="Marriage" /><category term="Pregnancy" /><category term="Daycare" /><category term="2011" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Halloween" /><category term="Parenting" /><category term="Decor" /><category term="Middle Age" /><category term="Friends" /><category term="Alex" /><category term="Nursery" /><category term="Erik" /><category term="Fall" /><category term="Vacation" /><category term="First day of school" /><category term="Talia" /><category term="Blog Fun" /><category term="Baby #3" /><title>Be the Change...</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>309</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld" /><feedburner:info uri="bethechangeyouwishtoseeintheworld" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0EMQXszcSp7ImA9WhRbGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-8116274546015602300</id><published>2012-02-10T15:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T15:34:40.589-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-02-10T15:34:40.589-06:00</app:edited><title>Alex's Birthday</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xkyBYQxiUVQ/TzWE6f9BFBI/AAAAAAAABKc/8jrDeUBBVgs/s1600/Iphone+300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xkyBYQxiUVQ/TzWE6f9BFBI/AAAAAAAABKc/8jrDeUBBVgs/s320/Iphone+300.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Big Al is 4!&lt;/div&gt;
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Here he is with his birthday hat from school.&lt;/div&gt;
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He is 39 inches tall-in the 25th percentile for height and weighs in at 40 solid lbs,&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xN-WfSn_Xvk/TzWFuI4D3rI/AAAAAAAABKs/eQcKBxOVdLg/s1600/Iphone+308.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xN-WfSn_Xvk/TzWFuI4D3rI/AAAAAAAABKs/eQcKBxOVdLg/s320/Iphone+308.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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His favorite color is green and his favorite piece of clothing are "worker jeans". Have to be carpenter style.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dslbq1MPRL4/TzWHEIpzb9I/AAAAAAAABK0/RFWYn9wZuSA/s1600/Iphone+310.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dslbq1MPRL4/TzWHEIpzb9I/AAAAAAAABK0/RFWYn9wZuSA/s320/Iphone+310.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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We went bowling for his party. He loves to do any physical activity. Bowling, hockey, football, biking, you name it. If it involves an object and running he is sold.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7Uxr4LP7Yzo/TzWHI62ExoI/AAAAAAAABK8/hSFBrwiuMsE/s1600/Iphone+313.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7Uxr4LP7Yzo/TzWHI62ExoI/AAAAAAAABK8/hSFBrwiuMsE/s320/Iphone+313.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Excuse the photo, his mama uses her phone. Alli made him a card, he ready it so nicely and looked right at her and said so very nicely,"Thank you!"&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5XaSjIp-0m0/TzWHokKE0II/AAAAAAAABLE/HgYu7lA5iTQ/s1600/Iphone+315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5XaSjIp-0m0/TzWHokKE0II/AAAAAAAABLE/HgYu7lA5iTQ/s320/Iphone+315.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Alex is very kind, funny, and easy going. He does not require a lot to make him happy. &amp;nbsp;You can always count on him for a hug and good manners.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-imRk452ENus/TzWHzjMejYI/AAAAAAAABLM/siraeR2EZHQ/s1600/Iphone+317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-imRk452ENus/TzWHzjMejYI/AAAAAAAABLM/siraeR2EZHQ/s320/Iphone+317.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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He does like to tell me once and awhile,"I don't love you Mom, just Dad. Anthony loves you." But I know better when he tells me later he "loves me to the moon". Because that is just how much I love him too.&lt;/div&gt;
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He still loves Thomas and Play Dough, loves to write the letter A and M for "my name".&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJDTweA8Xo0/TzWIdILOJMI/AAAAAAAABLc/J_dxDkn4MoE/s1600/Iphone+320.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJDTweA8Xo0/TzWIdILOJMI/AAAAAAAABLc/J_dxDkn4MoE/s320/Iphone+320.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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He treats his sister like a princess Tells her she is so pretty all the time.&lt;/div&gt;
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Immediately after he blew out the candles he told Anthony to back off of "his cake"! Then he asked if he could have 2 pieces, with a PLEASE!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GSlncuKTVwQ/TzWJIPy_nQI/AAAAAAAABLs/8jk5lpGdwfQ/s1600/Iphone+324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GSlncuKTVwQ/TzWJIPy_nQI/AAAAAAAABLs/8jk5lpGdwfQ/s320/Iphone+324.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q9qF_yvRSYQ/TzWJaOycJnI/AAAAAAAABL8/iqMcWulmB34/s1600/Iphone+326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-q9qF_yvRSYQ/TzWJaOycJnI/AAAAAAAABL8/iqMcWulmB34/s320/Iphone+326.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BaEYSwZGHHo/TzWJeuZ2M-I/AAAAAAAABME/umE2Yt-yvQw/s1600/Iphone+327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BaEYSwZGHHo/TzWJeuZ2M-I/AAAAAAAABME/umE2Yt-yvQw/s320/Iphone+327.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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May all your wishes come true, that is all I ask for you. My baby is now a boy who I love so very much.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-8116274546015602300?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9CdRl47Q6vtWMQ978eRbW0E60VI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9CdRl47Q6vtWMQ978eRbW0E60VI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9CdRl47Q6vtWMQ978eRbW0E60VI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9CdRl47Q6vtWMQ978eRbW0E60VI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/aPu6i1tTvHs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8116274546015602300/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=8116274546015602300" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8116274546015602300?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8116274546015602300?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/aPu6i1tTvHs/alexs-birthday.html" title="Alex's Birthday" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xkyBYQxiUVQ/TzWE6f9BFBI/AAAAAAAABKc/8jrDeUBBVgs/s72-c/Iphone+300.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2012/02/alexs-birthday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUCQHk9fip7ImA9WhRUFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-7298856657151501263</id><published>2012-01-26T12:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T12:41:01.766-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T12:41:01.766-06:00</app:edited><title>Tortorice's 2012</title><content type="html">Erik and I decided this year we are going to commit to 2 trips. One dedicated to the kids and one dedicated to us. Since we never really every go anywhere or do anything besides a trip to Minneapolis here and there, we talk a lot about it but never actually do it. Not this year, we are committing. Something different for us, we normally do everything last minute spur of the moment. But the hard part is we cannot make a decision to save our lives AND when I google different places I have a hard time deciphering what is a good price and what isn't since we never do fly. I do for work but never make the arrangements so I am LOST. So please share where you have gone that you love, what is a good price, and any sites your recommend to check out.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RAkDWFMthFmLJ-HBHPw0roFTNzY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RAkDWFMthFmLJ-HBHPw0roFTNzY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/-RIBK7ra6vk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7298856657151501263/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=7298856657151501263" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/7298856657151501263?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/7298856657151501263?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/-RIBK7ra6vk/tortorices-2012.html" title="Tortorice's 2012" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2012/01/tortorices-2012.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUICRX46eyp7ImA9WhRUFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-1034386865501060388</id><published>2012-01-25T14:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-25T14:32:44.013-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-25T14:32:44.013-06:00</app:edited><title>Happiness Project</title><content type="html">Check out the new book I am reading called&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://www.happiness-project.com/happiness_project/the-happiness-project-book.html"&gt;The Happiness Project&lt;/a&gt;. Leslie has been talking about this book for 6+ months so I thought I would take her advice and try it out. I am pretty excited, it looks very cool!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-1034386865501060388?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZCd1OC2mKQmqlsNzI7UmC_pS7pQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZCd1OC2mKQmqlsNzI7UmC_pS7pQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/oxpexehxKS8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1034386865501060388/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=1034386865501060388" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/1034386865501060388?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/1034386865501060388?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/oxpexehxKS8/happiness-project.html" title="Happiness Project" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2012/01/happiness-project.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUFQnYzcCp7ImA9WhRUEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-5709603718474467296</id><published>2012-01-20T10:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T11:23:33.888-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-20T11:23:33.888-06:00</app:edited><title>Circumstance</title><content type="html">2012 is an interesting year for me. The last 5 years have been a&amp;nbsp;roller-coaster. We had many things happen that were unexpected,&amp;nbsp;surprising, &amp;nbsp;even turbulent but we survived. In the grand scheme of things not anything that we couldn't handle but when you are in the moment you don't always realize that it may be a valuable lesson in hindsight. I am proud of the fact that we made it through infertility-yay Alex, unemployment, unsuccessful business ventures, jobs of desperation, completely unexpected baby-yay Talia, thoughts of will we get through this together? We did and we are here more intact than we have ever been. I no longer lay awake at night wondering how we are going to pay the pile of bills on my desk, when I go to bed I sleep, I do not toss and turn. Erik and I speak to each other like normal human beings every day. The house is not on the verge of crumbling down because I have not had time to put away 5 loads of laundry, do the dishes, or&amp;nbsp;vacuum. My brain is getting enough activity that it isn't all dedicated to being a mom that I am satisfied. I am content. The only thing that shakes me a little bit is the guilt with being content.&lt;br /&gt;
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When things seem to fall into place I tend to feel guilty.That maybe I don't deserve it. But this year is different. I feel like I have earned this stage of contentment and I am learning daily to be at peace with it. Does that mean that emotions still don't still run high when one of the kids are pushing me? No. Does it mean that Erik and I still don't have the battle over who is going to feed Talia at her 6 am wake up call? No. But now instead of it becoming something bigger than what it is. I just let it be. When you live in the moment life becomes more satisfying. With all the worries and heartache our family endured I think that I missed out on some of those moments because I was so distracted about the future. Unfortunately, we cannot control the future but we can control today.&lt;br /&gt;
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One of my dearest friends called my a little while back. The conversation started out typical. She asked me,"How are you today?" I responded without really thinking about it."I am good." I paused for a minute and really thought about it. "Actually, I am great!" It was so empowering to stop, think, and state exactly what I was feeling and mean it. I lived in the moment and it felt AMAZING! Its like when you get in the car to go somewhere and by the time you arrive there you don't remember the drive. You have succumbed to autopilot. The drive is the most crucial part of the trip. You need to be engaged.&lt;br /&gt;
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I am not speaking with rose colored glasses on. Life happens and I know we have many more things to battle in the future. My resolution for myself is to take it as it comes and enjoy the wins, learn any lesson I can from the losses. Since I was a young child I have felt a sense of responsibility to make sure that those around me are content and happy. This year is about teaching myself to do the same. Right now it feels pretty dang good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-5709603718474467296?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PkKULQ54Xa6Wb1_IQXOmNkz6jPk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PkKULQ54Xa6Wb1_IQXOmNkz6jPk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/Pty9mlmuXsc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3673338935158185283/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=3673338935158185283" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3673338935158185283?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3673338935158185283?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/Pty9mlmuXsc/it-is-okay.html" title="It is okay" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4o3pIvMX63U/Tw0ak1NZGQI/AAAAAAAABII/vN5KbiJXX8Y/s72-c/Iphone+027.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2012/01/it-is-okay.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUAEQH49fSp7ImA9WhRXEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-2777480201125138566</id><published>2011-12-16T16:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-12-16T16:15:01.065-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-16T16:15:01.065-06:00</app:edited><title>December 2011</title><content type="html">Has flown by! This whole last month has. I picked up two marketing side projects plus work, Christmas programs, and a few Stella &amp;amp; Dot parties. Not to mention sickness trying to invade on every level around here, Erik also had hernia surgery so had been out of commission for the last week and a half recovering.&lt;br /&gt;
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Here are some pictures from the last month, on my iPhone so not the best quality-can't say my phone has made me anymore organized.&lt;br /&gt;
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Alex's school program at Trinity was ADORABLE, they did a great job! He wants a green dinosaur and Thomas the Tank Engine for Christmas-even though we just donated some that he put in the donate pile.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LdzxDjlpAEg/TuvAw0rZKjI/AAAAAAAABGk/jnVnt2ZdicM/s1600/Alex+at+school+singing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="238" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LdzxDjlpAEg/TuvAw0rZKjI/AAAAAAAABGk/jnVnt2ZdicM/s320/Alex+at+school+singing.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Loved his little jacket from Gap and plaid brown sneakers, looked like a little professor.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n-KHImsI9ew/TuvAxEwylTI/AAAAAAAABGs/QNOKfqHMHqc/s1600/Anthony+and+Calamari.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n-KHImsI9ew/TuvAxEwylTI/AAAAAAAABGs/QNOKfqHMHqc/s320/Anthony+and+Calamari.jpg" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Anthony and I made Calamari, like my machete knife? I swear it does not look that big in person!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtm9jrMfbEM/TuvAxkhV07I/AAAAAAAABG0/huikP_8RvQ8/s1600/Group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gtm9jrMfbEM/TuvAxkhV07I/AAAAAAAABG0/huikP_8RvQ8/s320/Group.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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My office work party-I work remotely now but go in for fun days like this. Love those peeps! BUT miss getting downtown.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UV2H9xNFqfw/TuvAyHxLBWI/AAAAAAAABG8/W_DmORBIEg0/s1600/Talia+5+months.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="238" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UV2H9xNFqfw/TuvAyHxLBWI/AAAAAAAABG8/W_DmORBIEg0/s320/Talia+5+months.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Here is Talia 5 months old. She has red hair-more ginger. The happiest baby ever. Never fusses unless she is hungry or has pooped-hates being messy. She hangs out and plays all day long. Talia is rolling over now, talks to everyone, and giggles like crazy.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jO1qZu2LE1s/TuvAyuBN0nI/AAAAAAAABHE/Ku81SWAeQ8Y/s1600/Talia+and+Erik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jO1qZu2LE1s/TuvAyuBN0nI/AAAAAAAABHE/Ku81SWAeQ8Y/s320/Talia+and+Erik.jpg" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Yep, he is still in love with her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WGFJbluortg/TuvAzF7vtmI/AAAAAAAABHM/m8sK4i11v-E/s1600/Talia+and+fur+vest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WGFJbluortg/TuvAzF7vtmI/AAAAAAAABHM/m8sK4i11v-E/s320/Talia+and+fur+vest.jpg" width="238" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Did I say we are all obsessed? But the good news is we are just as obsessed with her brothers and even though we are busy breaking up wrestling matches, making bottles, and fighting over who is getting up for the 5am feeding life is good!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-2777480201125138566?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NhI7x9VwmUMqmRMvWHq-zt0e2Bo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NhI7x9VwmUMqmRMvWHq-zt0e2Bo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/T1S2PcDBJ9M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2777480201125138566/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=2777480201125138566" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/2777480201125138566?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/2777480201125138566?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/T1S2PcDBJ9M/december-2011.html" title="December 2011" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EyoQQ4saAnk/TuvAwAMMohI/AAAAAAAABGc/jpVt9hB9y2s/s72-c/Alex+and+Santa.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUNQHs5cSp7ImA9WhRSEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-8189689058736895101</id><published>2011-11-14T04:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T04:58:11.529-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-14T04:58:11.529-06:00</app:edited><title>To Do List</title><content type="html">I need to get better organized. In my chaos I think I always have it figured out, well at least in my head. Turns out that I need some assistance. Too many work projects, kids activities, errands to run. My brain cannot shut it off so to help I have enlisted different things to help keep me organized. Starting from back to the basics with writing on a paper calendar when school began to adopting some excel spreadsheets this last month for keeping my work projects under control.&lt;br /&gt;
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After going to Anaheim for work this last week for work I took along with me my loyal Droid that I have had for the last two years. Recently her face met concrete and she received an&amp;nbsp;undeserved&amp;nbsp;large crack. Although she was broken she was still &amp;nbsp;was still maintaining, that is until she was called "ghetto" from one of the nation's leading technology gurus at &lt;a href="http://www.muttlynchs.com/"&gt;Mutt Lynch's&lt;/a&gt;. Amy convinced me to take the plunge and I bought an &lt;a href="http://www.verizonwireless.com/b2c/splash/iphone.jsp"&gt;iPhone&lt;/a&gt; upon my return. Wow! That bad boys is AMAZING! I should have took that plunge a LONG time ago.&lt;br /&gt;
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So this week I am going to coordinate my back to basics and technology to work in my favor. I plan to check off my to do list as fluidly as I can with my two little helpers by my side on Monday and Friday.&lt;br /&gt;
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Do share, how the he double hockey sticks do you stay on top of your to do and task lists?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-8189689058736895101?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z1zDUDSQg5cwNpPJb7GVI4jQG-w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z1zDUDSQg5cwNpPJb7GVI4jQG-w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/9Xta9BdBPpE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8189689058736895101/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=8189689058736895101" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8189689058736895101?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8189689058736895101?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/9Xta9BdBPpE/to-do-list.html" title="To Do List" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/11/to-do-list.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUBQHY4eCp7ImA9WhRTFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-3732138801683711897</id><published>2011-11-07T08:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-07T08:47:31.830-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-07T08:47:31.830-06:00</app:edited><title>#7</title><content type="html">Last night I was trying to get Anthony to focus on religious ed homework because he has First Reconciliation next week for the first time, for those of you that are not Catholic that simply means confession. But he could not focus, he was obsessed with getting his seventh wiggly tooth out. Hell or high water that baby was coming out. Thank goodness the tides went his way and it succumbed to his twisting, pulling, and poking. Anthony officially looks like he is from the Smoky Mountains or a jack-o-lantern, his thought.&lt;br /&gt;
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So he prepped the tooth for the tooth fairy. Soaked it to get it nice and pretty with no germs on it, placed it on a crisp clean napkin for her to easily grab. A great place for him to wake up and see his reward for all of his hard work. He was pumped! Unfortunately the tooth fairy was working like a mad woman to get her house ready for her mother-in-law who will be staying watching over her children while she attends a tooth fairy conference in California Tues-Friday. She went to bed exhausted with Mr. Tooth Fairy and they both failed to wake for their shifts.&lt;br /&gt;
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I wake up this morning, hear Talia fussing and coo herself back to sleep. Alex runs down to say good morning and matter of factly tell me that the tooth fairy never came to get Anthony's tooth. I literally sat straight up, threw on my robe and bounded upstairs. Grabbed Talia very nonchalantly and waltzed into Anthony's room. My expectation was I was going to find him devastated. But because of the time change his REM is a little confused and he is in that weird I am awake stage but drooling all over my pillow. I have time to fix this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What can I do? How do I fix this? Last night Anthony made mention that this is his 7th tooth he has lost. Ding! Ding! Ding! I call the tooth fairy and tell her. She faxes me a note that says,"Since you are 7 and this is your 7th tooth I let you keep it this time." She let me know that she has $3.50 in change and to put in on the dining table by his backpack so when he gets ready for school he will find it. I am so grateful for her quick thinking. But then my printer jams so I have to write the note. What if he recognizes my writing? Oh man, I can hear them upstairs. He is about to walk in that kitchen looking for some Fruit Loops. I race upstairs with the note and my tooth fairy allowance. I made it! He's not up yet, thank you day light savings. I grab Talia's bottle and plop on the couch with her.&lt;br /&gt;
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The boys come to the kitchen, all the way Alex is asking Anthony why the tooth fairy forgot him. I ask Anthony if he has everything for school. He says yes, I tell him to double check. "Mom, SHE DIDN'T FORGET ME!!!" No way! How much did she leave you? $3.50 and a peso??? I have heard she works internationally.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-3732138801683711897?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M4KMc-Jy_JdvOXFBi9IXwe4ZQ8s/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M4KMc-Jy_JdvOXFBi9IXwe4ZQ8s/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/V8sTqHI9q0Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3732138801683711897/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=3732138801683711897" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3732138801683711897?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3732138801683711897?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/V8sTqHI9q0Q/7.html" title="#7" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/11/7.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AER3w5fCp7ImA9WhRTEUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-7356676481325921886</id><published>2011-11-01T12:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T12:48:26.224-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-01T12:48:26.224-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Halloween" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Alex" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Talia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Anthony" /><title>Halloween 2011</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89keDKThGMk/TrAwo72RYFI/AAAAAAAABDo/8eiYEY_RzwQ/s1600/Talia+Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89keDKThGMk/TrAwo72RYFI/AAAAAAAABDo/8eiYEY_RzwQ/s320/Talia+Halloween.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AsMt5scPCiA/TrAwpcNReTI/AAAAAAAABDw/6VsRmKTWuKQ/s1600/Alex+Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AsMt5scPCiA/TrAwpcNReTI/AAAAAAAABDw/6VsRmKTWuKQ/s320/Alex+Halloween.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wopNDiz9714/TrAwp4N2Q_I/AAAAAAAABD4/BI-553jqMfE/s1600/Anthony+Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wopNDiz9714/TrAwp4N2Q_I/AAAAAAAABD4/BI-553jqMfE/s320/Anthony+Halloween.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CaWczq4nClw/TrAwqt1dwRI/AAAAAAAABEA/JvQSFcJmgwI/s1600/Boys+Halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CaWczq4nClw/TrAwqt1dwRI/AAAAAAAABEA/JvQSFcJmgwI/s320/Boys+Halloween.jpg" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-7356676481325921886?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TmyEThEulVv4ziHvS-6z4ra2LL4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TmyEThEulVv4ziHvS-6z4ra2LL4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/2T-f5sbqJ1U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7356676481325921886/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=7356676481325921886" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/7356676481325921886?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/7356676481325921886?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/2T-f5sbqJ1U/halloween-2011.html" title="Halloween 2011" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-89keDKThGMk/TrAwo72RYFI/AAAAAAAABDo/8eiYEY_RzwQ/s72-c/Talia+Halloween.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/11/halloween-2011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0UARn09fyp7ImA9WhRTEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-8925257262922568518</id><published>2011-10-31T09:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-31T20:34:07.367-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-31T20:34:07.367-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Halloween" /><title>Happy Halloween!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xycCoBDGl7I/Tq6uBVSEG9I/AAAAAAAABDg/2j3G0EtkYA8/s1600/Halloween+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xycCoBDGl7I/Tq6uBVSEG9I/AAAAAAAABDg/2j3G0EtkYA8/s320/Halloween+2011.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-8925257262922568518?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qr8JycBzRDSGWk02xhfqP_kaeM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qr8JycBzRDSGWk02xhfqP_kaeM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qr8JycBzRDSGWk02xhfqP_kaeM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8qr8JycBzRDSGWk02xhfqP_kaeM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/mn5aUrMaZmM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8925257262922568518/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=8925257262922568518" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8925257262922568518?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8925257262922568518?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/mn5aUrMaZmM/happy-halloween.html" title="Happy Halloween!" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xycCoBDGl7I/Tq6uBVSEG9I/AAAAAAAABDg/2j3G0EtkYA8/s72-c/Halloween+2011.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/happy-halloween.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcHQ3s8eSp7ImA9WhdaF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-3178811088384653268</id><published>2011-10-27T11:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-27T11:30:32.571-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-27T11:30:32.571-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Erik" /><title>Full Circle</title><content type="html">Last night I subbed for bowling league again, my second time, I bowled very bad so I will be surprised if the ladies will want me back. Erik also bowls on Wednesday nights for the men's league. The last time I bowled he wasn't able to make it because he worked late. I looked over at him, I couldn't tell if he was irritated that I was cramping his style or not. So I asked."Honey, are you mad that I am invading your bowling night?" He pauses. I start to feel bad. I then see him slowly reveal a big smirk across his face and he starts to laugh.&lt;br /&gt;
"No, not at all, I was just thinking how I can't believe that we are driving to bowling league together in a minivan." Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-3178811088384653268?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdMJo3sRxYxJWSOqi6qV5zj3h8E/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdMJo3sRxYxJWSOqi6qV5zj3h8E/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdMJo3sRxYxJWSOqi6qV5zj3h8E/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TdMJo3sRxYxJWSOqi6qV5zj3h8E/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/gqvX979O_kQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3178811088384653268/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=3178811088384653268" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3178811088384653268?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3178811088384653268?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/gqvX979O_kQ/full-circle.html" title="Full Circle" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/full-circle.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYMRns7fyp7ImA9WhdaFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-1083703979303542589</id><published>2011-10-25T12:36:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T12:36:27.507-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-25T12:36:27.507-05:00</app:edited><title>Pay it Forward</title><content type="html">I love you Erin. Please read more about her&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://ourlilytree.blogspot.com/2011/10/hopes.html?showComment=1319563717604#c1294478738123734831"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For those of you in the FM area please come and join us for a day dedicated to Mr. Rowan. He has stolen my heart from day one. Please let me know if you would like to contribute or help in anyway.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #454545; font-family: serif; font-size: 16px;"&gt;&lt;i id="yui_3_2_0_1_1319564022035136"&gt;Rowan is nine months old and has been diagnosed with a severe brain disorder called lissencephaly. It is a rare brain formation where the brain is smooth due to lack in development. Many children diagnosed with the disorder do not live to be older than the age of two. Rowan will spend much of his life going to doctor appointments and needing extra care to live comfortably. The purpose of the benefit is to raise money to help the family with medical expenses.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: #454545;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;ul style="display: block; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; list-style-image: initial; list-style-position: initial; list-style-type: disc; margin-bottom: 0in; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 40px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" type="disc"&gt;
&lt;li class="yiv1773922096MsoNormal" style="display: list-item; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;What:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;We will be hosting a spaghetti feed as well as a silent auction with many great things from the community.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li class="yiv1773922096MsoNormal" style="display: list-item; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;Where:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;BONANZAVILLE&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1319564039_0"&gt;1351 West Main Avenue West Fargo, ND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li class="yiv1773922096MsoNormal" style="display: list-item; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;When:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1319564039_1"&gt;Sunday, November 13th from 11:00 a.m&lt;/span&gt;. until 4:00 p.m.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;li class="yiv1773922096MsoNormal" style="display: list-item; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-top: 0in;"&gt;&lt;strong style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span&gt;Cost:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;Suggested minimum donation is $10 per plate&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;
&lt;/ul&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="display: block; font-family: serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;The silent auction will close at&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1319564039_2"&gt;3:30pm&lt;/span&gt;. Need not be present to win.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="display: block; font-family: serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Checks can be made payable to “BABY ROWAN BENEFIT” and dropped off at, or mailed to, Northwestern Bank,&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1319564039_3"&gt;2405 8th St S, Moorhead, MN 56560&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="display: block; font-family: serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;For questions, or to contribute a monetary or silent auction donation, call Michelle Jerve at&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class="yiv1773922096skypepnhprintcontainer"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1319564039_4"&gt;(715) 379-4358.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="display: block; font-family: serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="yiv1773922096skypepnhprintcontainer"&gt;&lt;span class="yshortcuts"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="display: block; font-family: serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: normal; margin-left: 0in; margin-right: 0in; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-1083703979303542589?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZO3Da3jq5cwkMn6EovjmPsBGPXI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZO3Da3jq5cwkMn6EovjmPsBGPXI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZO3Da3jq5cwkMn6EovjmPsBGPXI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZO3Da3jq5cwkMn6EovjmPsBGPXI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/mDWYsvrlKqI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1083703979303542589/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=1083703979303542589" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/1083703979303542589?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/1083703979303542589?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/mDWYsvrlKqI/pay-it-forward.html" title="Pay it Forward" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/pay-it-forward.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYEQHszfSp7ImA9WhdaEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-1527809733742194590</id><published>2011-10-20T09:08:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-20T09:15:01.585-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-20T09:15:01.585-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Conferences" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Alex" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Talia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Anthony" /><title>This morning...</title><content type="html">Alex says to me,"Mom, I don't like you." But a couple seconds later, dead serious,"I do love you though." Thanks Buddy! We just got his preschool pictures back yesterday. So. Dang. CUTE! We found Anthony's old Batman costume on Sunday and I think he wore it all the way until Tuesday. Alex is enamored with super heroes right now and still dutifully follows Anthony's lead on anything and everything. He has now been crawling into our bed in the middle of the night recently. Even though he is a heater I like being close to him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Talia is now smiling extra big all the time. Not just the half crook smile, but the entire face smile. She talks a lot, has a raspy laugh, and is very spoiled. She is content on her own for awhile but then calls for one of us to come to talk to her. We are grateful that she is sleeping consistently 10-5 now. The world is back to looking more vivid again, the gray has faded with the more sleep I get.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anthony had conferences on Monday...but I forgot about them. So we rescheduled for Tuesday-I was so embarrassed. Mrs. Dahl assured me that 3 others had forgotten too, is this the truth or just to make me feel better? I ran into Mrs. Englund, Anthony's 1st grade teacher and made her promise to tell Mrs. Dahl that I am not a flake. Hopefully she believes that. Regardless, his conferences went great! He is testing above average in all subjects, he has a problem with chit chatting now and then (no idea where he gets that), and likes to get chased by the girls at recess. She said that he is very easy going and social, gets along well with others. I was very pleased with the overall meeting, but girl chasing...already? I am not ready for that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-1527809733742194590?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jQJ7sY9AA9ADedoWJi-9l1kx1Lw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jQJ7sY9AA9ADedoWJi-9l1kx1Lw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/LS3ih6pwv8Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/1527809733742194590/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=1527809733742194590" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/1527809733742194590?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/1527809733742194590?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/LS3ih6pwv8Q/this-morning.html" title="This morning..." /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/this-morning.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkAARHs5cSp7ImA9WhdbFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-8766269698529369865</id><published>2011-10-13T11:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-13T13:32:25.529-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-13T13:32:25.529-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Marriage" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Erik" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2011" /><title>10 years today 10.13.2011</title><content type="html">Today I cannot stop smiling. I feel like I have met a real milestone in my life. Not just my life but the life we have created together. Erik and I have been married for 10 years today. It honestly does feel like yesterday. There are so many moments from that day that I remember vividly. Right about now I was at the hotel eating oatmeal, getting ready to leave to get my hair done. I was SO NERVOUS! Amber was laying in my bed hungover from partying with all the groomsmen the night before. I took a bath in the hot tub to try calm my nerves. I was irritated with myself because I had not bought a lipstick to reapply all day that I liked. But it was a very peaceful morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There was no question in my head that I was doing the right thing. We had already dated for 8 years. 8 years of learning, deciding, and ultimately committing to each other forever.&lt;br /&gt;
I remember him walking up to me with the biggest grin I have ever seen on his face when we saw each other for the first time. He made me blush, he made me feel so beautiful, he made me proud. Our wedding was at 7 pm so we didn't make all of our Lutheran friends sit through a Catholic Mass. I thought he would pass out because of the crowd-but he was steady as a rock, I did not anticipate me crying uncontrollably or my sister sobbing so hard. I can hear my Grandma saying,"Faith, we are not at a funeral." I am so grateful my Grandma was there that beautiful fall day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The moment my dad and I were going to walk down the aisle he was beaming. He looked at me and says,"Are we ready?" I responded,"Let's do this!" Once we said our vows we were suppose to walk over and give both sets of our parents hugs along with a rose. We were so happy we forgot, all we could do was stare at each other and smile. I still have guilt for not remembering to give them that moment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our reception was at the Holiday Inn, the wedding party was introduced to the 500 plus crowd to a song I can hear in my head but could not tell you the name of. We were ready to have some fun! The speeches were perfect. The first dance was to Etta James' "At Last". My cheeks hurt from smiling and my arms hurt from hugging. My poor personal attendant never even got to eat until Domino's delivered to her that night. My family made a&amp;nbsp;Congo&amp;nbsp;line and danced all through that dance hall to "We Are Family." It was the perfect day. It was our day. I am still grateful to all those that were there to share it with us.&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I really do love him and I will forever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-8766269698529369865?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jPB6NVP3yPPPR_xTMro7CU97NJo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jPB6NVP3yPPPR_xTMro7CU97NJo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/-PmwcqEX-YA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/8766269698529369865/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=8766269698529369865" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8766269698529369865?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/8766269698529369865?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/-PmwcqEX-YA/10-years-today-10132011.html" title="10 years today 10.13.2011" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/10-years-today-10132011.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMHRno5cSp7ImA9WhdbFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-4700467951122895651</id><published>2011-10-10T21:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T11:53:57.429-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-12T11:53:57.429-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fall" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="2011" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Alex" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Anthony" /><title>Oktoberfest...</title><content type="html">Our weekend was FULL of fall fun! We did it all. On Saturday we headed over to Oktoberfest to check out the wiener dog races. I have never in my life seen so many wiener dogs. Some with costumes-your normal wiener dog get ups like hot dog in a bun, butterflies, and little barmaid outfits. A friend of mine was helping with the races and he said there were over 70 dogs preregistered. CRAZY! But besides beer tastings that I did not partake in because I had the kids they had bounce houses, corn dogs, and a kid friendly bull riding corral. The boys had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We also headed out to the pumpkin patch. With two almost teenagers with, they were thrilled about going to the pumpkin patch. Even more thrilled when Dynamite came on (big groan from the backseat)...which I downloaded to my Ipod because the boys LOVE it. 30 seconds in we were all cruising to the pumpkin patch fist pumping with the windows all the way down and showing what a minivan is capable of.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The pumpkin patch had its usual suspects. Kids squealing with delight, others crying like they were being tortured. Talia was home with dad but the boys and I enjoyed it all. I think our preteens did too, not that they would every admit it. Alex's favorite thing was the corn sandbox and barrel rides. Anthony's was definitely the cows-the kid loves himself a cow and the corn maze.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sunday we headed out on Family Fun Day. Our term for Sunday's. When Anthony was done with Sunday School we went to Maplewood State Park. I wanted to write a letter to whoever designed the Toyota Sienna and profess my love to them. It is so much more enjoyable to go places in our new minivan. Each of the kids have their own space. I have a ton of space up front and it has enough technical&amp;nbsp;amenities&amp;nbsp;to entertain Erik. The rule is no eating in the car and so far so good. Yeah, I know wish us luck! Anyways, Maplewood was gorgeous. We hiked up a very steep hill that had a landing on top that overlooked the entire park. Talia slept like a champ in her Baby K'tan-another purchase that I am obsessed with. Thank you &lt;a href="http://poutbaby.blogspot.com/2011/10/national-babywearing-week.html"&gt;Pout&lt;/a&gt;! I did think I was going to fall over and die a couple of times but I made it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So our weekend was truly AWESOME! This next weekend Erik and I are going to Minneapolis to celebrate &lt;strike&gt;20 years&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;10 years of marriage. CANNOT WAIT!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;
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They love the mini..we need to name her.&lt;/div&gt;
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I think I need to get him some shades...&lt;/div&gt;
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Mom, really? Yes, thank you...&lt;/div&gt;
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Maybe he will be a cattle farmer?&lt;/div&gt;
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Have a seat! Yes, that is Kylie...&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SPKDkruHhCbjESerHrDZbuyhHm0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SPKDkruHhCbjESerHrDZbuyhHm0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/fNzt4t1nVRA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/4700467951122895651/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=4700467951122895651" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/4700467951122895651?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/4700467951122895651?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/fNzt4t1nVRA/oktoberfest.html" title="Oktoberfest..." /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e22C92LE2tY/TpOmvfDli2I/AAAAAAAABB4/0C3rrygWEyI/s72-c/my+phone+1128.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/oktoberfest.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMDQ38_fip7ImA9WhdbFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-6011491570066168243</id><published>2011-10-05T23:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T11:54:32.146-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-12T11:54:32.146-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Middle Age" /><title>When it hits you smack dab in the face...</title><content type="html">I had an epiphany tonight. I was standing at bowling league (it was my first night, I was a sub) with woman my mothers age telling them about my new minivan, complaining about how sore I was going to be from bowling-yes bowling, and how I couldn't wait to go to Minneapolis to have our mini holiday celebrating 10 years of marriage. It occurred to me right then and there, that I am officially middle aged. Believe it or not, I did use to be cool, secretly I still think I am. But cruising around in the mini reminds me (no matter how hard I try to tell myself the opposite) I have officially stepped out of the cool zone. 33 years old, 10 years of marriage, 3 kids, minivan, and bowling league. WOWZER! If someone would have told me that 10 years ago I would have spit my kamikaze and/or scooby snack all over them and told them to stick it. No, I would have used other choice words and stomped off in my too short of skirt with my too tight of top.&lt;br /&gt;
Middle aged is something that I bucketed all my friends into because a good majority of them have always been older than me. Now when you say I'm 33 and she's 36 it pretty much sounds the same. Versus when I was 18 and she was 21 or when I was 28 and she was 31. I loved torturing my girlfriends with our age differences. Now it all sounds the same. I hear myself saying,"Age is just a number. You are only as old as you feel." Lame middle aged me.&lt;br /&gt;
I love driving the minivan but instead of the occasional check out I get the minivan once over. You can see the other minivan drivers-especially other men wondering what kind of options it has and MPG. I find myself trying to race the other minis when we pull up to a stoplight side by side.&lt;br /&gt;
Guys use to try guess my bra size, they now try to guess how many kids I have. The best is when I tell them 3 and they get this horrified look on their face expressing complete sympathy for the dad. You tell other woman, especially older ones and they respond with,"Ooh I bet your busy. Don't miss those days." Ummm-okay, who says that? I just fell asleep typing this...not kidding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-6011491570066168243?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HaGZFZkcgNdJR2i5TRH15XVnbSQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HaGZFZkcgNdJR2i5TRH15XVnbSQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HaGZFZkcgNdJR2i5TRH15XVnbSQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HaGZFZkcgNdJR2i5TRH15XVnbSQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/us7dQ4gyIY8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6011491570066168243/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=6011491570066168243" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/6011491570066168243?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/6011491570066168243?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/us7dQ4gyIY8/when-it-hits-you-smack-dab-in-face.html" title="When it hits you smack dab in the face..." /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/when-it-hits-you-smack-dab-in-face.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUUARX8-fip7ImA9WhdUFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-7637842245358785839</id><published>2011-10-03T08:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T13:40:44.156-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-03T13:40:44.156-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Alex" /><title>Birds from a feather</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H9FqAj6f5LQ/Tom7z0WSknI/AAAAAAAABBo/yl9XFtAYNe0/s1600/Fall+2011+057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H9FqAj6f5LQ/Tom7z0WSknI/AAAAAAAABBo/yl9XFtAYNe0/s320/Fall+2011+057.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NEKbFLFTbeo/Tom71LCcw5I/AAAAAAAABBs/i3edpXNH3Ho/s1600/Fall+2011+056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NEKbFLFTbeo/Tom71LCcw5I/AAAAAAAABBs/i3edpXNH3Ho/s320/Fall+2011+056.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GSrhPZ2WbIY/Tom77z284kI/AAAAAAAABBw/8bsG6e0eP_8/s1600/Fall+2011+062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GSrhPZ2WbIY/Tom77z284kI/AAAAAAAABBw/8bsG6e0eP_8/s320/Fall+2011+062.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sFxJt35RvzQ/Tom8M0IU6DI/AAAAAAAABB0/18fLRCx_Qmg/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sFxJt35RvzQ/Tom8M0IU6DI/AAAAAAAABB0/18fLRCx_Qmg/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+102.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Alex is obsessed with taking self portraits of himself. If my camera is in within his reach without adult supervision I am consistently surprised by finding random pictures of him on my camera. The funny thing is, that anyone that knows me and cameras, will also know I have the same obsession.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;If I see your camera and it is not being supervised I will surprise you with a self portrait of myself. Like this one here that was emailed to me from a friend in South Carolina. She found it when she got home...birds from a feather.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-7637842245358785839?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wbH5xBxcH7ZfiXwRzOKEKVDD180/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wbH5xBxcH7ZfiXwRzOKEKVDD180/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wbH5xBxcH7ZfiXwRzOKEKVDD180/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wbH5xBxcH7ZfiXwRzOKEKVDD180/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/udyW7XsggUQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/7637842245358785839/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=7637842245358785839" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/7637842245358785839?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/7637842245358785839?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/udyW7XsggUQ/birds-from-feather.html" title="Birds from a feather" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H9FqAj6f5LQ/Tom7z0WSknI/AAAAAAAABBo/yl9XFtAYNe0/s72-c/Fall+2011+057.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/10/birds-from-feather.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A04NRnw5eyp7ImA9WhdUFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-128937579758548002</id><published>2011-09-29T15:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T08:53:17.223-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-03T08:53:17.223-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="First day of school" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Alex" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Talia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Anthony" /><title>Hi from Anthony, Alex, and Talia</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70cG0uCr5vE/ToTNWEoonRI/AAAAAAAABBI/I87j5BBUBJw/s1600/Fall+2011+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70cG0uCr5vE/ToTNWEoonRI/AAAAAAAABBI/I87j5BBUBJw/s320/Fall+2011+012.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
First day of 2nd grade!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sPpTAZKUSug/ToTNYStu4-I/AAAAAAAABBM/5tk078Eb09M/s1600/Fall+2011+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sPpTAZKUSug/ToTNYStu4-I/AAAAAAAABBM/5tk078Eb09M/s320/Fall+2011+013.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Anthony with his teacher Mrs. Dahl.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-noPjBmQA-74/ToTNfbMhvyI/AAAAAAAABBY/b_7TlBbWdGs/s1600/Fall+2011+022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-noPjBmQA-74/ToTNfbMhvyI/AAAAAAAABBY/b_7TlBbWdGs/s320/Fall+2011+022.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Alex first day of preschool.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yBdo098apcs/ToTNaJl9ZsI/AAAAAAAABBQ/BqHgwyr96JE/s1600/Fall+2011+017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yBdo098apcs/ToTNaJl9ZsI/AAAAAAAABBQ/BqHgwyr96JE/s320/Fall+2011+017.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hv8d0HdEBlg/ToTNdWhQAYI/AAAAAAAABBU/E7AGikvNKZg/s1600/Fall+2011+019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hv8d0HdEBlg/ToTNdWhQAYI/AAAAAAAABBU/E7AGikvNKZg/s320/Fall+2011+019.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WjpJrUOX_z0/ToTNiKAZgOI/AAAAAAAABBc/j0PSA6zrykc/s1600/Fall+2011+023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WjpJrUOX_z0/ToTNiKAZgOI/AAAAAAAABBc/j0PSA6zrykc/s320/Fall+2011+023.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Alex with his teacher Ms. Andrea.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CqBvNAdoo9s/ToTNlB30HMI/AAAAAAAABBg/Xzh2I_uEJXM/s1600/Fall+2011+026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CqBvNAdoo9s/ToTNlB30HMI/AAAAAAAABBg/Xzh2I_uEJXM/s320/Fall+2011+026.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yVnv4T5fHcA/ToTNTTqq96I/AAAAAAAABBE/SH-dY103kwM/s1600/Fall+2011+050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yVnv4T5fHcA/ToTNTTqq96I/AAAAAAAABBE/SH-dY103kwM/s320/Fall+2011+050.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_3Qs31k8HJc/ToTNraey08I/AAAAAAAABBk/KvdlVYUjYnQ/s1600/Fall+2011+031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_3Qs31k8HJc/ToTNraey08I/AAAAAAAABBk/KvdlVYUjYnQ/s320/Fall+2011+031.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Say, hello to say Miss Talia Claire. We all have fallen in love with her...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-128937579758548002?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F42fDSu5FXXppXmJ5_PDSrWUjXE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F42fDSu5FXXppXmJ5_PDSrWUjXE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F42fDSu5FXXppXmJ5_PDSrWUjXE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/F42fDSu5FXXppXmJ5_PDSrWUjXE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/btZ4z-Bc6c0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/128937579758548002/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=128937579758548002" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/128937579758548002?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/128937579758548002?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/btZ4z-Bc6c0/hi-from-anthony-alex-and-talia.html" title="Hi from Anthony, Alex, and Talia" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-70cG0uCr5vE/ToTNWEoonRI/AAAAAAAABBI/I87j5BBUBJw/s72-c/Fall+2011+012.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/09/hi-from-anthony-alex-and-talia.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMMSHk5cSp7ImA9WhdbFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-2887994032961922696</id><published>2011-09-27T14:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-12T11:54:49.729-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-10-12T11:54:49.729-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><title>Whats mine is yours...</title><content type="html">Hi Blogger Friends...&lt;br /&gt;
You have held me up, you have made me laugh, and I adore you all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please do the same for my friend Erin. You can begin to read her story&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://ourlilytree.blogspot.com/2011/09/medicine-and-prayers.html#comment-form"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. She is also under my favorite blogs.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please love her and her family, pray for them, and give them the support they need right now. If I was granted just one wish it would be given to her.&lt;br /&gt;
Much Love,&lt;br /&gt;
Me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-2887994032961922696?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2FO0thb2Ul9EygTOD0xMwSn0jqM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2FO0thb2Ul9EygTOD0xMwSn0jqM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2FO0thb2Ul9EygTOD0xMwSn0jqM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/2FO0thb2Ul9EygTOD0xMwSn0jqM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/mWk6HK8g0BY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2887994032961922696/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=2887994032961922696" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/2887994032961922696?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/2887994032961922696?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/mWk6HK8g0BY/whats-mine-is-yours.html" title="Whats mine is yours..." /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/09/whats-mine-is-yours.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08DRHo9fSp7ImA9WhdVFkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-3852779878250334484</id><published>2011-09-21T19:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T19:37:55.465-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-21T19:37:55.465-05:00</app:edited><title>Dear Friend</title><content type="html">&lt;i&gt;Dear Friend,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Today when you called me I knew things had changed in an instant. I knew that your world was different. I am with you. I may not be be physically sitting next to you but I am walking with you in this journey holding your hand, rubbing your back, and even telling the world to F off in your so delightful way. You are a friend I never knew I would have. I thank God for both of us that I have you. We have been through work drama, relationship bullshit, and have watched each others families grow. You are one of the people I want to share good and bad things with. After we meet for our romantic lunches I always feel better. To see you puts me at ease. I hope I do the same for you. There is something very comfortable about our relationship. I will not smother you with calls or questions. But I vow to simply be your friend. Because I love you, no matter what, even if you just want to tell me to F off. It's okay. Remember you are a strong, beautiful AMAZING mother that can do this. Because you are you and you mean the world to me and him.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Love,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Me&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-3852779878250334484?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QuqtbQGMyhb6k21jBQIK04MbxbU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QuqtbQGMyhb6k21jBQIK04MbxbU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QuqtbQGMyhb6k21jBQIK04MbxbU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QuqtbQGMyhb6k21jBQIK04MbxbU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/iWohxIx-bsY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3852779878250334484/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=3852779878250334484" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3852779878250334484?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3852779878250334484?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/iWohxIx-bsY/dear-friend.html" title="Dear Friend" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/09/dear-friend.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cERn07fip7ImA9WhdVEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-6860074675234200578</id><published>2011-09-15T13:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T13:23:27.306-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-15T13:23:27.306-05:00</app:edited><title>Back in action!</title><content type="html">I'm back! You know when you are pregnant and you feel towards the end like you can hardly identify with the swollen person that resembles you looking back at you in the mirror. You lose interest in many of the things that make up who you are. Your focus is entirely on what your next meal is going to be, the lack of sleep you are getting, and how you can see every crumb on each floor of your house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
9 weeks has passed since Talia has arrived. She is amazing and beautiful, a shining star that I cannot imagine my life without. She is the daughter that I have waited to have my entire life. I still daydream about all the mother/daughter things we will get to do as she grows. I love her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, I also love myself. I can say that with 100% &amp;nbsp;honesty. I have missed feeling like myself. The person that is crazy about decorating each room is back. To be able to walk in a room and to vividly see it again, constructing what I want to change, thinking about colors and fabric makes me so happy. To be able to play with my kids on the floor or outside running and jumping. I can carry Alex again when he's sleepy and lazy, I wouldn't say with ease since he is 36 lbs but with much less effort. He is happy, I am happy. Smells no longer make me gag. Jeans button at my waist-even though there is still some work to be done on that. I can reconnect with my husband. I love him so much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Pregnancy is a beautiful thing but also very binding. I feel like I have broken free from that body and I am becoming whole again. Today, I feel like myself more than I have in awhile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-6860074675234200578?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l7zzTc303QzVqYQA3VDzE9RDkCc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l7zzTc303QzVqYQA3VDzE9RDkCc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l7zzTc303QzVqYQA3VDzE9RDkCc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/l7zzTc303QzVqYQA3VDzE9RDkCc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/LXvylQV82wI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6860074675234200578/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=6860074675234200578" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/6860074675234200578?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/6860074675234200578?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/LXvylQV82wI/back-in-action.html" title="Back in action!" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/09/back-in-action.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEIGRHg4cSp7ImA9WhdWGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-2098912587695131758</id><published>2011-09-13T12:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T12:55:25.639-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-13T12:55:25.639-05:00</app:edited><title>You gotta have friends!!!</title><content type="html">This past weekend was so fun! Starting Thursday night all the way to Sunday afternoon I spent a ton of time with my family and friends. Those lines definitely blur and I am very grateful to have many of those relationships for 15 plus years. A funny story that captured just how far along we have come.&lt;br /&gt;
AJ: We will be over in 10 minutes. (9:45 am Sunday morning)&lt;br /&gt;
Me: Yay! Can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;
I immediately call another friend of ours to have her come over with her daughter so these two can see each other as well.&lt;br /&gt;
Me: Come over for to see AJ and family. They will be here in 10 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;
Kristi: What are we going to do?&lt;br /&gt;
Me: I don't know, just visit and get caught up.&lt;br /&gt;
We all gather shortly after. Instead of recovering from Chumley's we are now surrounded by children and requests for juice, not Blood&amp;nbsp;Mary's. We are surrounded by the next generation of us.&lt;br /&gt;
Kristi: So, when we did turn into our parents...Melissa said we were all going to "visit".&lt;br /&gt;
We all proceeded to laugh hysterically. I proceeded to wave an adult gesture (all kids were outside). I then whipped up some french toast, the kids played outside, and us adults sat together visiting with one another. We talked about our kids, curtains, rugs, recipes, kids activities. The husbands discussed sports and work. It was brought up multiple times how we have become our parents.&lt;br /&gt;
But...do you know what the best part is? We are all pretty dang happy! Plus it gave AJ motivation to plan a good old fashioned house party in October for adults only to prove we still got it. Twister anyone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-2098912587695131758?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/exGgXGEveiKUpikifmRGVJwieQ4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/exGgXGEveiKUpikifmRGVJwieQ4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/exGgXGEveiKUpikifmRGVJwieQ4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/exGgXGEveiKUpikifmRGVJwieQ4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/GDG2d7RujW8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/2098912587695131758/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=2098912587695131758" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/2098912587695131758?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/2098912587695131758?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/GDG2d7RujW8/you-gotta-have-friends.html" title="You gotta have friends!!!" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/09/you-gotta-have-friends.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0MEQHgyfyp7ImA9WhdWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-6138521283766469839</id><published>2011-09-08T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T11:30:01.697-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-08T11:30:01.697-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Parenting" /><title>Today is one of those...</title><content type="html">One of those days you feel like you are going to explode. This week has been difficult. Getting us all ready in the morning, loaded up, and happy. 3 year olds stomping around the house and getting upset over any little thing. 7 year olds not listening and thinking they are the boss of the house. Little itty bitty babies going to daycare for the first time. Not sleeping much while there and throwing up on their new daycare provider the first day. Husbands crabby from working long hours and a little checked out when they are around. Moms trying not to yell but not always succeeding. Cooking dinner when all I want to do is order in. Drawing baths when I feel like I am drowning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Plus a ton of stuff going on behind the scenes has finally caught up with me. I sound like Patsy from the Grandin&amp;nbsp;Truck-stop&amp;nbsp;when I am on the phone with clients. Coughing, spitting up yucky stuff, and sleeping in the recliner so I can breathe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Life today is one of those days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-6138521283766469839?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j2bW3S8fWkfRUb67sapBmFX0zrQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j2bW3S8fWkfRUb67sapBmFX0zrQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j2bW3S8fWkfRUb67sapBmFX0zrQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j2bW3S8fWkfRUb67sapBmFX0zrQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/86KSX3Ff74I" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/6138521283766469839/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=6138521283766469839" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/6138521283766469839?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/6138521283766469839?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/86KSX3Ff74I/today-is-one-of-those.html" title="Today is one of those..." /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/09/today-is-one-of-those.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08MQHo6fip7ImA9WhdXGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-3848709922338162478</id><published>2011-08-31T14:41:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T14:44:41.416-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-31T14:44:41.416-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Baptism" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Talia" /><title>Baptism for Mrs. T</title><content type="html">&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a9K6p5bseIM/Tl6JC4wB_nI/AAAAAAAAA-w/aVM9P2okuMA/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+090.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a9K6p5bseIM/Tl6JC4wB_nI/AAAAAAAAA-w/aVM9P2okuMA/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+090.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Talia and I at the BBQ after baptism, I can never get my pics to upload in the order I want? So I guess it is ladies first!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mf4Gnw1r5dA/Tl6JJY5jF2I/AAAAAAAAA-4/vK4JjHI6-1w/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mf4Gnw1r5dA/Tl6JJY5jF2I/AAAAAAAAA-4/vK4JjHI6-1w/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+007.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Look who is smiling?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PII8jUibCMM/Tl6JMvcYQSI/AAAAAAAAA-8/UI8d-C5c30I/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PII8jUibCMM/Tl6JMvcYQSI/AAAAAAAAA-8/UI8d-C5c30I/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+008.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Talia's Godparents my cousins who I grew up with Tiffany and Nicholas, love them!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eWqE21eNfJ0/Tl6JQJeK4EI/AAAAAAAAA_A/0NCCXIHMN6c/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eWqE21eNfJ0/Tl6JQJeK4EI/AAAAAAAAA_A/0NCCXIHMN6c/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+010.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;They were both very excited!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hAa1eRwdwio/Tl6JSWyz1_I/AAAAAAAAA_E/IwUtI2SwZ8I/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hAa1eRwdwio/Tl6JSWyz1_I/AAAAAAAAA_E/IwUtI2SwZ8I/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+012.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;She loves to suck on her fingers, mainly the thumb but if she can't find it she is not picky.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AKvic8vDg0Y/Tl6JUwZlU0I/AAAAAAAAA_I/mGXCaaOCEJ0/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AKvic8vDg0Y/Tl6JUwZlU0I/AAAAAAAAA_I/mGXCaaOCEJ0/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+013.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oQXcTudIpSg/Tl6JYnlo7gI/AAAAAAAAA_M/9N2_mxKMLrg/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oQXcTudIpSg/Tl6JYnlo7gI/AAAAAAAAA_M/9N2_mxKMLrg/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+018.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;My dad blessing her, we all did.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qO_uWAbmLmE/Tl6JdBtL5WI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/bwQl1MAqc5E/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qO_uWAbmLmE/Tl6JdBtL5WI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/bwQl1MAqc5E/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+022.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qNPmPJj6Crw/Tl6Jg67b_5I/AAAAAAAAA_U/zaQo4FmqVzg/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qNPmPJj6Crw/Tl6Jg67b_5I/AAAAAAAAA_U/zaQo4FmqVzg/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+027.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JHb0OtBKGo/Tl6Jkd-y2NI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/395dOWt5rTQ/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0JHb0OtBKGo/Tl6Jkd-y2NI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/395dOWt5rTQ/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+029.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bHo722Njtdw/Tl6JoAuKFUI/AAAAAAAAA_c/JF3cy16cuSk/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bHo722Njtdw/Tl6JoAuKFUI/AAAAAAAAA_c/JF3cy16cuSk/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+033.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;She never cried once, she actually was smiling like crazy after Deacon Tom (who has baptized all our children) &amp;nbsp;baptized her.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rK4qxujsfIo/Tl6Js5HNZNI/AAAAAAAAA_g/CLE7JQsQXqs/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rK4qxujsfIo/Tl6Js5HNZNI/AAAAAAAAA_g/CLE7JQsQXqs/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+046.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Everyone praying for Erik...does anyone remember this from our wedding?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CpmTET5P6pg/Tl6JyJjrJQI/AAAAAAAAA_k/NVmFPHUoNf4/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CpmTET5P6pg/Tl6JyJjrJQI/AAAAAAAAA_k/NVmFPHUoNf4/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+048.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ID6TfMnAv-U/Tl6KE8q873I/AAAAAAAAA_s/OajpqgzTWew/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ID6TfMnAv-U/Tl6KE8q873I/AAAAAAAAA_s/OajpqgzTWew/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+051.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;After Saturday night Mass we went back to our place for a BBQ, we celebrated with all of our family and friends. A different vibe having a baptism at night but a lot of fun! Here is Alli and Anthony, I swear I pray they get married just so I can show off all of the cute pics I have of them together.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TqT5bazJGDk/Tl6KHxraAaI/AAAAAAAAA_w/vFyMF10Vbbk/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TqT5bazJGDk/Tl6KHxraAaI/AAAAAAAAA_w/vFyMF10Vbbk/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+052.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Miss Ava, so pretty!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ftq6CvvKzBI/Tl6KLXREpjI/AAAAAAAAA_0/pmVXSr63t8E/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ftq6CvvKzBI/Tl6KLXREpjI/AAAAAAAAA_0/pmVXSr63t8E/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+053.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Stu the fisherman...he caught two fish in our golf course stream.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cRdNQr6C6Y/Tl6KQETJZ_I/AAAAAAAAA_4/dZbLwORaQAs/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7cRdNQr6C6Y/Tl6KQETJZ_I/AAAAAAAAA_4/dZbLwORaQAs/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+057.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VwKrw1DsodM/Tl6KWDS1zWI/AAAAAAAABAA/3E8tl1Vsa7o/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+062.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VwKrw1DsodM/Tl6KWDS1zWI/AAAAAAAABAA/3E8tl1Vsa7o/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+062.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;One of my favorite guys my Uncle Bob catering to us all.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LbuXU7cwPl8/Tl6KY-MIPBI/AAAAAAAABAE/bQ6gO4nRRak/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+067.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LbuXU7cwPl8/Tl6KY-MIPBI/AAAAAAAABAE/bQ6gO4nRRak/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+067.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The best Grandma's ever!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1pEfAnHahoA/Tl6KcDEmfcI/AAAAAAAABAI/VbjyuK5sUPo/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-1pEfAnHahoA/Tl6KcDEmfcI/AAAAAAAABAI/VbjyuK5sUPo/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+069.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-nHzTUBkiw/Tl6KfoiQx1I/AAAAAAAABAM/2dFrN20wWig/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+074.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8-nHzTUBkiw/Tl6KfoiQx1I/AAAAAAAABAM/2dFrN20wWig/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+074.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X6oyY-bJFvc/Tl6KioLu8tI/AAAAAAAABAQ/FqXktK-AlLE/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+077.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-X6oyY-bJFvc/Tl6KioLu8tI/AAAAAAAABAQ/FqXktK-AlLE/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+077.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;The best aunts ever. My sister had one thing on her mind, can you guess what that is?&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l_oFNDFJgF0/Tl6KsMQFaDI/AAAAAAAABAY/JFYXuyCQkog/s1600/Talia%2527s+baptism+079.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-l_oFNDFJgF0/Tl6KsMQFaDI/AAAAAAAABAY/JFYXuyCQkog/s320/Talia%2527s+baptism+079.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;Alex with his Godmother&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;All in all a really great day! Talia looked so cute and was an absolute gem, we were very proud of her. The Vikings had their first preseason game so in Capouch style all the males in our family were crowding the TV. Hopefully God understands that even though our baptism celebration for Talia was maybe a little unconventional there was a whole lot of love rejoicing on her special day. We love you baby girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-3848709922338162478?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IpEmwzQKwxupDVg8OyETOu7eRT0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IpEmwzQKwxupDVg8OyETOu7eRT0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~4/rwaGmRc1juY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://tortorice.blogspot.com/feeds/3848709922338162478/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8428627766591151469&amp;postID=3848709922338162478" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3848709922338162478?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8428627766591151469/posts/default/3848709922338162478?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/BeTheChangeYouWishToSeeInTheWorld/~3/rwaGmRc1juY/baptism-for-mrs-t.html" title="Baptism for Mrs. T" /><author><name>Be the change...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03740260622611866834</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="28" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jKmz2qKcVXo/ThXcLBFmMMI/AAAAAAAAA6o/LeLQlP8eU9I/s220/Melissa.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a9K6p5bseIM/Tl6JC4wB_nI/AAAAAAAAA-w/aVM9P2okuMA/s72-c/Talia%2527s+baptism+090.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://tortorice.blogspot.com/2011/08/baptism-for-mrs-t.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkYBQXc9fSp7ImA9WhdXE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8428627766591151469.post-520227297440224657</id><published>2011-08-26T12:34:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T12:35:50.965-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-08-26T12:35:50.965-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><title>Confusion</title><content type="html">There has been a lot of confusion around here. Lots of weird energy, not bad energy, just weird. Decisions being made that I never saw coming. Things being revealed I never thought possible. My boys are outside right now playing with the water from the water spicket...who needs a pool? a lake? All you need is a little H2O to entertain those boys. Talia is rocking away in her swing. Her baptism is tomorrow. A big day for her! We picked out the prettiest little dress, nothing fancy. White eyelet with ruffle butt tights and a the perfect headband, of course! All of our family will be there. My family huge, Erik's not but both perfect to me in their own way. I hope for a good day tomorrow. Lots of love, appreciation, and peace. Since it is a 5o'clock mass we are having a BBQ with some yard games afterwards. Can't wait to show off my bag throwing skills and have some time with my husband. I love him. I love him a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8428627766591151469-520227297440224657?l=tortorice.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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