<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199</id><updated>2024-09-10T00:04:08.607-04:00</updated><category term="baby"/><category term="everyday"/><category term="family"/><category term="major events"/><category term="randomness"/><category term="AC"/><category term="my art"/><category term="Music"/><category term="blog update"/><category term="fitness"/><category term="local"/><category term="New Thought"/><category term="cool people"/><category term="nutrition"/><category term="newsworthy"/><category term="travel"/><category term="business"/><category term="world"/><title type='text'>Pup : Sunny-side Up</title><subtitle type='html'>Christy, aka Pup, provides generic life updates, and waxes philosophic on personal topics.  At the moment she&#39;s adoring her Baby Girl birthed in August &#39;09, fathered by her wonderful Evil Prince (herein known as The E.P.)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>234</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-4511969232788485220</id><published>2012-07-30T08:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-07-30T08:50:34.701-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog update"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="newsworthy"/><title type='text'>For All My Fellow Bloggers Out There</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;This posting is a public service announcement.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvTewrp_0vclAV9BvIteUwb4QT3mpTSLVM1OccOPEdDBlSsmBxE0l7mSpIqNMiZ3QG0zE-Pa3aY20kbFinz1sr8hW7rFBYaQk6pHFG5Auujp_je18Ru-7YopXcB6wU_Rd5l1_uw/s1600/nospam.gif&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvTewrp_0vclAV9BvIteUwb4QT3mpTSLVM1OccOPEdDBlSsmBxE0l7mSpIqNMiZ3QG0zE-Pa3aY20kbFinz1sr8hW7rFBYaQk6pHFG5Auujp_je18Ru-7YopXcB6wU_Rd5l1_uw/s200/nospam.gif&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Ironically, this image is so prevalent&lt;br /&gt;on the web, I can&#39;t offer an attribution.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
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As part of my day job, I manage a professional blog with a large readership. Mostly, I delete the spam comments and forward on the real ones to the author.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well today, I found a doozy of a spam comment waiting in the Pending folder. We all know that spammer have scripts they use to copy/paste into the box, right?&lt;b&gt; Well, someone appears to have copy/pasted every fake message they have in their pre-written file, and Here it is.&lt;/b&gt; If you ever see any of these comments on your blog, and you&#39;re not sure if they&#39;re legit, you now know they are Definitely Spam!&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
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You have been doing a very good &lt;br /&gt;job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/4511969232788485220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/4511969232788485220?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4511969232788485220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4511969232788485220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2012/07/for-all-my-fellow-bloggers-out-there.html' title='For All My Fellow Bloggers Out There'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfvTewrp_0vclAV9BvIteUwb4QT3mpTSLVM1OccOPEdDBlSsmBxE0l7mSpIqNMiZ3QG0zE-Pa3aY20kbFinz1sr8hW7rFBYaQk6pHFG5Auujp_je18Ru-7YopXcB6wU_Rd5l1_uw/s72-c/nospam.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-5132705436467659767</id><published>2012-04-05T14:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-05T14:28:02.009-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lea Quotes, March 2012 (Hardly anything, but I tried!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyfM6-ALQ21yI8-i6sk6FA8bkILrcdjvF5BgTds0NyDD6wIUzWvSZm7AyciVEh_UqI8TPm6THxAEEcg2UgpprKjOdamLV9h6jK6unSqeJNJY-ZxLRhpxdpgewWJ10V-bdf7n5Ow/s1600/_20120307_1644.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyfM6-ALQ21yI8-i6sk6FA8bkILrcdjvF5BgTds0NyDD6wIUzWvSZm7AyciVEh_UqI8TPm6THxAEEcg2UgpprKjOdamLV9h6jK6unSqeJNJY-ZxLRhpxdpgewWJ10V-bdf7n5Ow/s200/_20120307_1644.JPG&quot; width=&quot;156&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;No Mommy, it&#39;s not &lt;i&gt;Daddy&#39;s&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;hat. It&#39;s &lt;i&gt;My Hat!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I&#39;m a Mom. I&#39;m on the Internet a lot. I am addicted to Facebook and Blogger. I love Twitter, Pinterest, Photobucket, and 15 thousand other social media widgets. I don&#39;t want to be one of those parents... and yet, I soooooo Do. Want. In the interest of meeting both criteria, I present this collection of anecdotes and quotes, saved up and presented on a monthly basis. Your newsfeed/timeline can thank me later.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name=&#39;more&#39;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;Note: She&#39;s a toddler. I&#39;m her Mom. Therefore, she garbles her words a bit, and yet, I can still understand what she means through the magic of that special ESP that exists between parents and young children.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;That, and she says &quot;my&quot; for the word &quot;I&#39;m&quot;. It&#39;s adorably cute. She&#39;ll get it right eventually.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc3366;&quot;&gt;&quot;Hey Lea: Pingu is a big brother. Pinga is a little sister. Would you like to be a Big Sister someday?&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #741b47;&quot;&gt;[If] my big [like] Pingu!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
For various and unknown reasons, on the evening of March 15, she didn&#39;t want Daddy to look at her. After a minute of trying to suss out her intentions, he asked:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #cc3366;&quot;&gt;&quot;Are you embarrassed?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #741b47;&quot;&gt;&quot;No, I&#39;m Lea!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Well, I&#39;d meant to&amp;nbsp;catalog&amp;nbsp;her funny sayings here,&lt;/b&gt; but it was just too busy a month to get to the computer while I still remembered exactly what she&#39;d said. I really did start this post a month ago with good intentions. Fortunately, I have a gem from about an hour ago (April 5).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote class=&quot;tr_bq&quot;&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;color: #741b47;&quot;&gt;&quot;Get your cupcake, get your soap! Take off your diaper, take off your pants, and take a bath!&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;
Yes, she made up that song while in the tub about an hour ago. She was singing it to her pretend little sister.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s a good day. =)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/5132705436467659767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/5132705436467659767?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/5132705436467659767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/5132705436467659767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2012/04/lea-quotes-march-2012-hardly-anything.html' title='Lea Quotes, March 2012 (Hardly anything, but I tried!)'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyfM6-ALQ21yI8-i6sk6FA8bkILrcdjvF5BgTds0NyDD6wIUzWvSZm7AyciVEh_UqI8TPm6THxAEEcg2UgpprKjOdamLV9h6jK6unSqeJNJY-ZxLRhpxdpgewWJ10V-bdf7n5Ow/s72-c/_20120307_1644.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-6635080683872511959</id><published>2012-03-08T16:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-03-08T16:27:25.805-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><title type='text'>Couponing: The Eighth Deadly Temptation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.blogger.com/goog_661403327&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;178&quot; src=&quot;http://www.internationaldelight.com/assets/images/home-hero-favorites.png&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.internationaldelight.com/&quot;&gt;You are the Devil, I say!!! Because I want you sooo much.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Logging in. Email comes up... scan the subject lines. Here&#39;s one from Eversave -- new coupons are available! Oh maybe, just maybe, this once there will be something really good I can use...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Mmm.... Any flavor &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.internationaldelight.com/&quot;&gt;International Delight&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #333333; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 15px;&quot;&gt;®&lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;Iced Coffee. &amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;Oh, God, I wish!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes indeed, &lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Couponing is the Eighth Deadly Temptation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name=&#39;more&#39;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Honoring What&#39;s Important To Us&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We try to be a &lt;a href=&quot;http://wholepup.blogspot.com/&quot;&gt;natural family&lt;/a&gt;. Not complete tree huggers, but not because we don&#39;t want to be. But close. We recycle as much as we throw in the trash every day. We eat as natural as possible given time and economic restraints. Processed foods are at a minimum. We substitute natural options for pretty much all our household supplies where affordable and convenient. We buy local whenever possible.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not only that, but our family must avoid a number of common food allergens for health reasons, including gluten, dairy, and (gasp!) &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=10841199&quot; title=&quot;Just the E.P.!&quot;&gt;strawberries&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Making natural shopping choices definitely limits what one can buy. In a way, it actually makes it easier - there are whole aisles of processed foods I can skip in the store. We pretty much bypass the entire frozen foods section except for the flash-frozen green veggies, berries for smoothies (just berries, no kits) and fish. I would bypass the cleaning supplies if I could, but of all the remedies I&#39;ve tried, only Scrubbin&#39; Bubbles will actually clean a porcelain tub to my high standards. So we&#39;re definitely not completely crunchy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Real and Local, but Not Real Cheap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Saving Money is a priority in our house. We live&amp;nbsp;in Loudoun County, Va, an area which has an inordinately high cost of living for being a bunch of sub- and ex-burbs of Washington, DC. We also have the &lt;a href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Highest-income_counties_in_the_United_States&quot;&gt;highest per-capita income&lt;/a&gt; in the nation, but that figure is skewed by the plethora of&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dulles_Technology_Corridor&quot;&gt;Internet&amp;nbsp;millionaires&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.governmentcontractswon.com/department/defense/reston_va_virginia.asp?spg=2&quot;&gt;government contractors&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.redskins.com/&quot;&gt;professional&amp;nbsp;athletes&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;who live here. We are among the thousands here struggling -- though it&#39;s harder to see the recession here, being that there are golf courses and horse farms practically everywhere. ;) The lowest-level wage earners have, for the most part, been pushed out to the Shenandoah, and everyone commutes at least 15 to 20 miles each way no matter what the job or the employer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Add on to that the fact that savings for real, whole and local grocery items are comparatively non-existant. Yeah, I can go site-to-site and print out coupons by company, but I really, &lt;i&gt;really &lt;/i&gt;do not have that kind of time. Or that much printer paper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;The Lonely Couponer&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/puppyshine&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot; target=&quot;_top&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Search &amp;amp; Win&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;http://prodegebanners.sitegrip.com/images/swagbucks-125x125.jpg&quot; title=&quot;Search &amp;amp; Win&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This year I&#39;ve been working even harder at keeping frugal. I belong to &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/puppyshine&quot;&gt;Swagbucks&lt;/a&gt;, and given the $15 I&#39;ve already earned in Amazon Gift Cards, we plan to nix the cable in favor of instant streaming for our favorite shows. I&#39;ve also joined &lt;a href=&quot;https://savingstar.com/&quot;&gt;SavingStar&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;(no printer paper needed!)&amp;nbsp;and &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.eversave.com/Welcome.jsp&quot;&gt;Eversave&lt;/a&gt;,&amp;nbsp;and I love this fabulous blog about couponing:&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href=&quot;http://loudouncountylimbo.blogspot.com/&quot;&gt;Loudoun County Limbo&lt;/a&gt;. Ooo, my friend Theresa is so awesome in how she manages to feed 2 adults and 3 teenagers for $50-$75 a week! She ends up with plenty of extras, much of which she donates to the local food bank! I just love to watch her work -- for it is work, it&#39;s a full-time job to coupon like that. And I just don&#39;t have time kind of time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even if I did, it wouldn&#39;t work for me. You see, I&#39;m never going to actually buy my beloved coffee delights, no matter how wonderfully Internationally they are flavored. Don&#39;t get me wrong, I want them. &lt;i&gt;Want them! &lt;/i&gt;But I&#39;ve made a strong commitment to myself, and to my family. We grind our own coffee in this house! So while Theresa goes out and racks up a garage full of goods, I&#39;m left sitting at home, alone, wondering why the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=10841199&quot; title=&quot;You&#39;d think they would get on board to the fact that natural foods consumers are willing to research and hunt down products and tend to be local buyers. All they gotta do is put together a product pamphlet with a coupon and have Eversave email it out. Court me, I&#39;m here for the wooing, people!&quot;&gt;marketers aren&#39;t targeting me&lt;/a&gt;. Boo hoo!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every week as I learn to navigate the hundreds of coupons snail- and e-mailed to me, I&#39;m starting to back a way -- to no longer look so hard to find savings. Because, truth be told, they&#39;re just. not. there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Clicking through SavingStar. Hurray, a discount on Windex products! Hmm, I can fudge it and get some commercial baking soda toothpaste, just this once, mix it up a bit, ya&#39; know. And..... there&#39;s absolutely nothing else on this list we would want.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But if they were there... I&#39;ve be &lt;b&gt;GLUED TO THEIR SITE EVERY DAY&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;close browser.=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;/close&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At least there&#39;s &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/puppyshine&quot;&gt;Swagbucks&lt;/a&gt;. I use Swagbucks now, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=10841199&quot; title=&quot;I&#39;ve got almost the whole 7th season of Doctor Who saved up for viewing on Amazon for free! Woot!&quot;&gt;Swagbucks is cool&lt;/a&gt;. ;)
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you know of any natural foodies&#39; savings programs, please, pass them along! I&#39;d love to try them out!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/6635080683872511959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/6635080683872511959?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/6635080683872511959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/6635080683872511959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2012/03/couponing-eighth-deadly-temptation.html' title='Couponing: The Eighth Deadly Temptation'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-3227767642378840369</id><published>2012-02-20T21:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-20T21:32:05.279-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Finally, A Place To Relax</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
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&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFFg2d7W6Swb7mdK9PTLJIcWNTmQhgkr3_IKGtQTV5O3tLzirA6J3czMfByY-lgs9q-AFnHFhpMX-xmqkCdlBsZMryrs_IkmhqnLvGohJld1XLJum8UlhGz0zsPo3cW8l5OSf4w/s1600/0220121950a.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFFg2d7W6Swb7mdK9PTLJIcWNTmQhgkr3_IKGtQTV5O3tLzirA6J3czMfByY-lgs9q-AFnHFhpMX-xmqkCdlBsZMryrs_IkmhqnLvGohJld1XLJum8UlhGz0zsPo3cW8l5OSf4w/s200/0220121950a.jpg&quot; width=&quot;150&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Stars! No, they do not&lt;br /&gt;glow in the dark - those&lt;br /&gt;are in the kid&#39;s room.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
One of a bedroom&#39;s primary functions, in my mind, is to provide a comfortable space in which to get away from the rest of your daily life and relax. Finally, finally I&#39;ve been able to whip our bedroom into shape. It&#39;s been over a year, and for the first time, the E.P. and I truly enjoy the aesthetic of our room! It may sound over-dramatic, but it&#39;s been a long road to get to this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We &amp;nbsp;moved into our apartment a little over a year ago. It was a big change for the family -- but particularly for The E.P. and I. While we spent our first couple years together in a studio apartment, it was a large one and we had plenty of space. Our second apartment had a decently sized bedroom, which fit all our furniture. Next we had a spacious house. Our new baby&#39;s bedroom was large and airy and a great place for her to grow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name=&#39;more&#39;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMKh_NVtMZE2kqKPeoxP16MmCJaAOVyKeczAXOxp3-A6S2JEPdWD7X6GzYqhDpHU0BZSiUtr2enXJ9khf6yEQiZrRCoHH-dVuZbPysHaoB-x4ykaFOZncVhLS02iRXHvCwCNZyw/s1600/move-inPic.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnMKh_NVtMZE2kqKPeoxP16MmCJaAOVyKeczAXOxp3-A6S2JEPdWD7X6GzYqhDpHU0BZSiUtr2enXJ9khf6yEQiZrRCoHH-dVuZbPysHaoB-x4ykaFOZncVhLS02iRXHvCwCNZyw/s200/move-inPic.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Painting day!&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then a concurrence of the unexpected happened in our lives, and we ended up in a small apartment. In order to make the arrangement livable for all parties (my mother included), the E.P. and I opted to take the middle bedroom. The middle bedroom is meant for a bed no larger than a full, and that would be pushing it. We have a queen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We painted the apartment before we moved in to give the place some ambiance, and help us to forget that we&#39;re reduced a lesser quality living arrangement than we&#39;re used to. We chose a sexy dark green for the wall behind our black metal headboard. In order to fit our furniture in the room, we had to take down the closet door and store it under the bed. We hung shelving on the entirety of one wall, to hold (a fraction of) our enormous book collection.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXMvzvD2Isw3hQ30Zc8-ocyd9UpqNZYnhgtN-26pSZHCs43HY635FKmdVM9VMiLSwtcgR0GfSCQMqf2k0jirUr4tMHJexciFIFCBOn_MkXWWl539XLW_xCeKxoyADb7g5pONEjhw/s1600/0220121951.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXMvzvD2Isw3hQ30Zc8-ocyd9UpqNZYnhgtN-26pSZHCs43HY635FKmdVM9VMiLSwtcgR0GfSCQMqf2k0jirUr4tMHJexciFIFCBOn_MkXWWl539XLW_xCeKxoyADb7g5pONEjhw/s320/0220121951.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Two lights are among the books, and a third is near the floor.&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s a vintage brass art deco naked lady. She doesn&#39;t fit&lt;br /&gt;on the shelves, but we love her anyway.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Over the last year, I&#39;ve tried everything I could think of to make the space pleasant and inviting, rather than that-messy-hole-where-we-sleep. I schemed about hanging various types of lighting, fabric, and even metal grates from the ceiling. For several months, I hung a sheer white curtain from the ceiling using thumbtacks. However, the width and length of the fabric were not ideal to hang in such a way as to trick the eye into adding square footage to the space. &amp;nbsp;Eventually, it fell down.&amp;nbsp;The room&#39;s been dull and dreary since the white curtain fell.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lndp_ugJEq5hPtIzCK9daIxosYKTWCODD0b8jDr862CpyyLPq8Pzu6Em5aXx3h18mQfQEz9mvPansDRNIwksqrbaypZbPnR6znuDqJVCbqA1QSmHd4Z2S_R1yAr13BvS2y-6iw/s1600/0220121952.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lndp_ugJEq5hPtIzCK9daIxosYKTWCODD0b8jDr862CpyyLPq8Pzu6Em5aXx3h18mQfQEz9mvPansDRNIwksqrbaypZbPnR6znuDqJVCbqA1QSmHd4Z2S_R1yAr13BvS2y-6iw/s320/0220121952.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The closet, covered with another sheer curtain. The oval&lt;br /&gt;in the corner is a mirror that matches our bed frame -&lt;br /&gt;I hung it so that it swivels at hair-do height, so&lt;br /&gt;it doesn&#39;t have to take up value space on the dresser.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
I also worked hard to get as much furniture out of there as possible.&amp;nbsp;The cat was constantly knocking things off the few spaces I had to set things.&amp;nbsp;I was constantly bruised on my hips at the junction between the closet, the bedpost, and the furniture. I still am, but by thinning out the herd, I don&#39;t hit the post nearly as often. Add to that a lack of any place for me to put anything on my side of the bed. While the E.P. has a handy floor-to-ceiling bookcase within reach, I had a chest of drawers to contend with, and nowhere else to put it. In order to sip a cup of tea while reading in bed, I had to either place everything on the floor (warning: cat!) or stand up and put them on the top of the dresser (warning: cat!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVeZb8OBIZiG_KhR-Fx5CPt0B3kJlcl60fioarn3zJS8tK8A3uA5IVjPooP7nk4ovleWZY3D9oyv44dObeJ8hXSnyaLlKqjrRXae7fpgXDfkcZHVmveAqnvtlKelOj1Hy5cv5ZA/s1600/0220121950.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTVeZb8OBIZiG_KhR-Fx5CPt0B3kJlcl60fioarn3zJS8tK8A3uA5IVjPooP7nk4ovleWZY3D9oyv44dObeJ8hXSnyaLlKqjrRXae7fpgXDfkcZHVmveAqnvtlKelOj1Hy5cv5ZA/s320/0220121950.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;My stuff is mashed up there: A baby monitor, laptop,&lt;br /&gt;cat-proof jewelry box... A non-toddler-proof handmade&lt;br /&gt;toothbrush holder is re-purposed for my hairbrush. The&lt;br /&gt;desk rolls so that I can sit on the bed and bring&lt;br /&gt;my laptop to me, then I can roll it back when I&#39;m done.&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Also on the plus side, we&#39;ve had to control the dirty clothes pile or we would have no where to walk! So while the room has been in chaos, it&#39;s never been too bad off, simply because there&#39;s no place to put the mess. Dust piled up on everything since we couldn&#39;t get the&amp;nbsp;vacuum&amp;nbsp;in there. And we found ourselves spending as little time in the room as humanly possible -- which was not the healthiest thing for us since we have no other place to retreat to in order to get some much needed personal space from the toddler and the sometimes-overbearing cat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks to my brother-in-law for these beautiful star ornaments, which help tie the room together and create the illusion of a slightly larger space. Finally... we can relax.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/3227767642378840369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/3227767642378840369?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3227767642378840369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3227767642378840369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2012/02/finally-place-to-relax.html' title='Finally, A Place To Relax'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFFg2d7W6Swb7mdK9PTLJIcWNTmQhgkr3_IKGtQTV5O3tLzirA6J3czMfByY-lgs9q-AFnHFhpMX-xmqkCdlBsZMryrs_IkmhqnLvGohJld1XLJum8UlhGz0zsPo3cW8l5OSf4w/s72-c/0220121950a.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-1386036356251938704</id><published>2012-01-29T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-29T22:06:44.629-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog update"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><title type='text'>With Children Comes Never-ending Change.... Some Spreading to This Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;
Times... they are a-changin&#39;. And believe it or not, I will soon be utilizing this blog&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;more smartly.... that is to say, differently.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaLTVmYl_NNqioQmmm0lAYnSqAZS7za-agAAWR0gyLB-J_WGGOrIkdxqDKzZyktX2X-l5J75Y3H089a9RE84bOGAKp2N9zmJ6_a_yq9rQDODMyysiNcG9wA-0PgWnof3BfF9H5Q/s1600/1204111740b.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaLTVmYl_NNqioQmmm0lAYnSqAZS7za-agAAWR0gyLB-J_WGGOrIkdxqDKzZyktX2X-l5J75Y3H089a9RE84bOGAKp2N9zmJ6_a_yq9rQDODMyysiNcG9wA-0PgWnof3BfF9H5Q/s320/1204111740b.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;My editorial staff, hard at work&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
You see, I love to write. More importantly, I love to write about myself. (&quot;Narcissist&amp;nbsp;much?&quot; Yes.) Back before I had kids and had a bit more time on my hands, my current conglomeration of blogs and socially networked memberships worked well for me. I organized my blogs, Twitter and Facebook to kinda, sorta work in conjunction, for my own benefit and that of those who wanted to keep up with some aspects of my life, but not others. And it worked.... kinda.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Today I begin to restructure my personal &quot;brand&quot;, as it were, here on the Interwebs. Changes, they are a-comin&#39; - changes that may effect this particular url. Currently, I plan to keep this blog (I love SunnyPup! I am SunnyPup!) but will change the content I post here. This will remain, as it currently is, the &quot;family&quot; blog -- my primary place to share essays about being a Mom, and other mundane snippets of daily life.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
In the meantime... I have years worth of stories in my brain that have never made it to this page. Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*wink!*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/1386036356251938704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/1386036356251938704?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1386036356251938704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1386036356251938704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2012/01/with-children-comes-never-ending-change.html' title='With Children Comes Never-ending Change.... Some Spreading to This Blog'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaLTVmYl_NNqioQmmm0lAYnSqAZS7za-agAAWR0gyLB-J_WGGOrIkdxqDKzZyktX2X-l5J75Y3H089a9RE84bOGAKp2N9zmJ6_a_yq9rQDODMyysiNcG9wA-0PgWnof3BfF9H5Q/s72-c/1204111740b.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-3640987546104645932</id><published>2011-11-01T10:28:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T10:29:04.520-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>CANDEH CANDEH CANDEH CANDEH yum!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7euqdKHsA7gb7U2c5AY5EVAyl-G2iBmsNRzlK5tcrSMOXdTJXOvE6TXWpq-NUBg0P5o0sJ0epXvYucS3NKyD9Xs5HK6qJG-hnnyBaut46KFNNaPNTmLMkx1MEI6Y7lVAbEG8MZA/s1600/Picforblog.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;400&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7euqdKHsA7gb7U2c5AY5EVAyl-G2iBmsNRzlK5tcrSMOXdTJXOvE6TXWpq-NUBg0P5o0sJ0epXvYucS3NKyD9Xs5HK6qJG-hnnyBaut46KFNNaPNTmLMkx1MEI6Y7lVAbEG8MZA/s400/Picforblog.jpg&quot; width=&quot;351&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #274e13;&quot;&gt;What Halloween teaches 2-yr-olds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;b&gt;HAPPY DAY-AFTER HALLOWEEN!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
What a fabulous year for Halloween and dress up for our family. It wasn&#39;t easy to make it all work, but work it did -- and Lea sure learned how to &lt;i&gt;work-it!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Work-It Baby! --&lt;/b&gt; She learned that she&#39;s gorgeous in a dirndl. She learned that she only wants THOSE SHOES when she wears it. She learned that the unusual feeling of the felt of her cape isn&#39;t really &quot;Yucky!&quot; but it&#39;s just how it feels, and it&#39;s FUN!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(I&#39;m so glad she got over the &quot;yucky!&quot; felt thing. My Mom slaved over that cape on one recent Saturday, and it seemed for a while that she wasn&#39;t going to wear it.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Work-It Kid!&lt;/b&gt; -- She learned that if she behaves, doesn&#39;t throw fits, and is even helpful, she will generally get what she wants. So when she can&#39;t have a treat until after dinner, she pronounces that she&#39;s &quot;All done!&quot;, calmly marches to the trash can with her dinner plate, and tries to empty it out and put the plate in the sink. Of course, she&#39;s hardly eaten anything on her plate, but she&#39;s trying &lt;i&gt;so hard&lt;/i&gt; to get candy for dinner and she&#39;s doing all the right things. While we as parents are struggling to get protein and nourishment into her system, at least she&#39;s not screaming about it constantly. &lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;She&#39;s workin&#39; it!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Work-It Girl!&lt;/b&gt; -- This child learns fast. She recognized that, even if she can&#39;t think fast enough to say &quot;Trick or Treat!&quot; or &quot;Thank you!&quot; on cue, all she has to do is stand there and look cute and people give her candy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After she received her first trick-or-Treat, she abandoned the sidewalk - she tromped through the yard as quickly as possible to the next front door. She was in like Flynn and knew it!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;She had her eye on her candy stash at all times. Every moment, she knew how much was in her bucket or bag, where they were, she checked on them, she practically hoarded them until we were safely home. It was her &lt;i&gt;carefully guarded treasure&lt;/i&gt;, and in her mind she&#39;d counted every piece and every piece counted.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later in the evening at home, when she found an empty wrapper in the bucket, she immediately brought it to me. &quot;What&#39;s dis, Mommy?&quot; she sweetly asked, but as her Mom, I could hear the worry in her words. It was the wrapper from the one piece we let her have while at the local Halloween parade. I explained that, she got it, inquisition over. (Whew!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Even later in the evening, we promised her she could have one more treat after she finished her milk. (Finishing her milk also means &quot;Time for teeth&quot; which means bedtime.) She dawdled, she tried to dilly-dally into staying up later, ran around like a psychopath (i.e. toddler on a sugar-high) and tried to extend her evening playtime, tried to ignore her milk, tried to pretend she&#39;d already finished it. By the time she got around to preparing for bed, The E.P. had forgotten about the promise (or perhaps hoped that she&#39;d forgotten!) Lo and behold, Lea began to freak out on him, sobbing, not allowing her diaper to be changed or her teeth to be cleaned. Her speech was garbled through her tears. But I knew what she was trying to say.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&quot;Treat!&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So The E.P. got her one little crunch bar, and she cherished every bite, and then she was fine and went to bed without further complaint.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The girl &lt;i&gt;remembers everything &lt;/i&gt;and wants what&#39;s hers&lt;i&gt;.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Work-It for All It&#39;s Worth! &lt;/b&gt;-- Before I got Lea up this morning, I made sure to hide the candy. Because Lord Knows there&#39;d be no eating breakfast if her bucket was visible. It was not easy to find a spot in our small apartment where she can&#39;t find it either on her own, or while watching us prepare meals in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She&#39;s been up all of 10 minutes before she was in Daddy&#39;s arms, eyes scouring the kitchen, asking &quot;Wuck-ed! Wuck-ed?!&quot; Her bucket was safely hidden and, being a reasonable child, she listened when we explained that the treats are &quot;a sometimes food&quot; and she would see them again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My gratitude for this morning scene is boundless.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Work-It Momma&lt;/b&gt; -- We had a fabulous time, walked 3-4 miles through the neighborhood including going to the parade, and I&#39;m so proud of Lea for how brave she was and how fast she comprehended what was happening in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And yet... I&#39;m a bit shocked on how quickly she absorbed the &quot;candy candy MINE MINE!&quot; attitude of so many children on Halloween. Was it the big kids diving in front of her to pick up the candy thrown from floats (like a children&#39;s Mardi-Gras?!) Was it me? It is just human nature to go nuts when you realize someone will give you something for nothing (as long as you show up and look cute)?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hmm.... &amp;nbsp;Food for thought before next year&#39;s adventure. Food... candy candy candy candy......</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/3640987546104645932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/3640987546104645932?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3640987546104645932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3640987546104645932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/11/candeh-candeh-candeh-candeh-yum.html' title='CANDEH CANDEH CANDEH CANDEH yum!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7euqdKHsA7gb7U2c5AY5EVAyl-G2iBmsNRzlK5tcrSMOXdTJXOvE6TXWpq-NUBg0P5o0sJ0epXvYucS3NKyD9Xs5HK6qJG-hnnyBaut46KFNNaPNTmLMkx1MEI6Y7lVAbEG8MZA/s72-c/Picforblog.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-8263183071865685531</id><published>2011-10-02T18:48:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T19:25:45.119-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>The Terrible Twos</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;My daughter is driving me insane.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
INSANE!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Sigh&lt;/i&gt;. We&#39;ve reached a milestone in her development, which we always knew would come: The Year of Great Annoyance. Since she turned 2 about 6 weeks ago, she&#39;s progressively grown more demanding. If it weren&#39;t common knowledge that all toddlers go through this, and that she will grow out of it... well, I have no idea what we&#39;d do. Seek professional help for our sanities?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We&#39;d finally gotten to a place where I could get some things done at home while she played and did her own thing partially-supervised. Now however, unless &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.caillou.com/indexEN.shtml&quot;&gt;Caillou &lt;/a&gt;is on, she will not. leave. us. alone! Not for five minutes! Once or twice I&#39;ve sucuumbed to letting her paper the place with Sponge-Bob stickers just so I could get a little time to finish a project. Fortunately, she likes to un-stick what she&#39;s stuck to things. But I fear that the un-sticking-and-balling-up-for-easy-vacuuming is a fad whose time is soon at an end.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suggestions? Offers to come babysit while The E.P. and I run screaming into the night for 20 minutes of sane-making time?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Caillou is on as I type this, or else, these words would never see the screen.)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/8263183071865685531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/8263183071865685531?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/8263183071865685531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/8263183071865685531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/10/terrible-twos.html' title='The Terrible Twos'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-7102696573406760837</id><published>2011-09-25T16:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T17:00:49.209-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Music"/><title type='text'>Changing Directions</title><content type='html'>I&#39;m starting to type this post just as a cat purports to settle into my lap, and a 25 month-old wakes up and waltzes out of her room, ready to take on the afternoon. Let&#39;s see how far I get. ;)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hurray for the Fall! &amp;nbsp;It&#39;s been a hell of a summer and I am so glad to see it end. Suffice to say it was super-stressful, but the worst parts are over.* Now we&#39;re in a transition period, as we remember what life was life before it became so busy -- and as we find new paths for using our talents or handling long-standing issues.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One thing is certain: I have got to bring home some more money! I Love my job. I love my boss, I love the work I&#39;m supporting, I think it&#39;s important to get this work out into the world. That said, I do not intend to leave my current part-time position, despite our growing need for additional income.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That leaves me with finding a secondary source of income that isn&#39;t stressful or requiring of an upfront investment of some kind. I have nothing of value left to sell (and those items that I do have aren&#39;t moving in this economy regardless.) Also, minimum-wage jobs are not an option -- what little is left of my time to &quot;give&quot; to a job is more valuable than that. I could write and love the work... but the starting income is eq*uivalent to about $3 an hour.* Been there, done that, I need faster results!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then, last night, as I lay in bed thinking, it&amp;nbsp;occurred&amp;nbsp;to me: I have one asset that I can give and give and give from without losing any inventory. One lasting resource that people have told me they would pay for: &lt;i&gt;my voice&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, I can&#39;t play any instruments while singing - not well, anyway. It&#39;s not for trying/practice, it&#39;s just how I am. &amp;nbsp;So I need an accompanist, or backing tracks, or something. Or I need to sign up with a local talent agency and let them work on my behalf. I used to avoid doing that in part on the basis of my looks (hefty) - but last year in Ikea at Christmastime, I saw a man and a woman perform, and she was every bit as big as me and not nearly as good. And I thought, &quot;I can do that!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Christmastime is the primary gig time for musicians like me. How do I get started around here with something like that? Where do I find an accompanist willing to work for half of whatever gets tossed in our hats? I know some GREAT musicians around here, but none of them are right for this job - they are either soloists in their own right (and I&#39;d be backup for them) or they&#39;re too busy with other things. I don&#39;t want to be backup. Give me the dang mic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
* denotes any place I was interrupted* while typing and had to leave for a bit. *</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/7102696573406760837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/7102696573406760837?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/7102696573406760837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/7102696573406760837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/09/changing-directions.html' title='Changing Directions'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-1256620535126227840</id><published>2011-09-19T17:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T17:00:31.709-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog update"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Still Alive</title><content type='html'>Hello Friends and Family,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After nearly a week of radio silence, I just want to affirm: yes, I&#39;m still alive!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A LOT has been happening of late. Mostly though, the whole family got sick, and it hurt my eyes to look at a computer screen, so I haven&#39;t bothered to turn it on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That, and I don&#39;t want to sign into Facebook until I have ample time to catch up on everything.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lea/Nicole is fine, happy, healthy once again! The E.P. needs rest, but is otherwise well. I need a vacation. BADLY. Badly. b.a.d.l.y.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, that&#39;s not in the cards just now. So, I&#39;m drinking my afternoon coffee, then off to take Lea for a walk (the kid&#39;s new online alias) and avoid the computer some more.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
BTW -- Grandma and Grandpa - Lea LOVES the new coloring book and items, Thank You! =D She loves to draw &quot;circles&quot;, now that I&#39;ve found the stamps, I will send you some more pictures.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
~Pup</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/1256620535126227840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/1256620535126227840?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1256620535126227840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1256620535126227840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/09/still-alive.html' title='Still Alive'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-5317073323123462635</id><published>2011-08-02T14:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T14:49:44.048-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><title type='text'>And So it&#39;s now August</title><content type='html'>Life is full, full of everything these days. Here&#39;s a quick record of the biggest items of note:&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lea (&quot;Nicole&quot;) is henceforth to be called Lea on this blog.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lea has entered the terrible-Twos. Oh the tantrums! oh our eardrums - and sanity!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;i have a new keyboard that doesn&#39;t work very well. At the moment, I do not intend togo bac and fix all its little mistakes as I type. it is, after all, inflatable. lol&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Less than  2 weeks until 2 family bday celebrations!  Yay!!! Looking forward to them both!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;we&#39;ve *almost* sold the house. So close....&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, really that&#39;s all i can think of right now. I&#39;ve been working hard today and I need a mental break. Off to play some farmville. Cheers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/5317073323123462635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/5317073323123462635?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/5317073323123462635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/5317073323123462635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/08/and-so-its-now-august.html' title='And So it&#39;s now August'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-2684219524631562711</id><published>2011-07-09T15:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-25T17:01:10.888-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Grocery Store Adventures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;http://lottieb.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/wegmans-755069.jpg?w=300&amp;h=200&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 200px;&quot; src=&quot;http://lottieb.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/wegmans-755069.jpg?w=300&amp;h=200&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nicole (&lt;a href=&quot;http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-name-for-baby-girl-nicole.html&quot;&gt;aka &quot;Baby Girl&quot; aka my daughter&lt;/a&gt;) &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;LOVES &lt;/span&gt;Wegmans. Everytime we come &#39;round the corner from which she can see the top of the great wide brick building with its turret and large lettered &quot;W-E-G-M-A-N-S&quot; across its front, she gleefully cheers. &quot;Yay!!!&quot; *clap, clap* &quot;Yay!!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Wegmans has become our regular ritual. Often, it seems more like a pilgrimage. &lt;/span&gt;Wegmans has the best of everything we want for our daily lives: A huge Gluten-free selection, the best Dairy/Casein-free cheese for pizza, Affordable Organic produce and products, Clean bathrooms, Nicole&#39;s favorite &quot;Choo-choo&quot; (train), and.... the reason for me it&#39;s a pilgrimage.... &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;A fabulous in-house Café with 3 full shots of espresso in every medium latté.&lt;/span&gt;  Now that&#39;s how a 16 oz latté should be made!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday began a new sort of grocery-shopping adventure with me and Nicole. Generally, given her fussy age, either I go alone or her Gigi or The E.P. (or both) come along to help look after Lil Miss Fussy-pot once she starts up. I rarely go on a full weekly shopping trip with her - but yesterday, I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first thing we did was walk through the buffet section and get her a coconut water (they don&#39;t have soymilk or kid-friendly juice options in the to-go fridges of our Wegmans. You can pop a straw in coconut water and minimize spillage, unlike twist-top orange juices.) Then we got a cart, and the juice kept her entertained briefly while she rode in the basket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She hates to ride in cart kid-seats for more than a couple minutes. I tried to find any of the cool kid-friendly carts for her -- ones with the &quot;car&quot; in the front, or the special seats under the cart&#39;s handlebars -- but on this trip, they were all in use by other families. So into the basket Nicole went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were barely out of the produce section when she began to get antsy. From produce we go to Nature&#39;s Market -- whence started the inevitable quiet request for &quot;Up&quot;. She did very well, however, and made it all the way to frozen food/general produce before waving her arms and adamantly shouting &quot;Up! Up, Down!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I put her down. And I looked at her for a second. And then I said, &quot;Nicole, come help Mommy! Would you like to help Mommy? Here, put this&quot; (points at big bag of coffee on the lowest shelf) &quot;in the cart for Mommy!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For almost the entire rest of the trip, Nicole &quot;helped&quot; me fill our cart to the brim. If it was too high for her to reach, I&#39;d pick her up. She could lift most things above her head and into the cart by herself. She even picked up a gallon of water off the floor (where I&#39;d set it) and put it on the bottom of the cart, with a little help. She is one determined little lady!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the bulk aisle, she was DAZZLED by her close proximity to the selection of candy. I let her pull one plastic tube of mini M&amp;M&#39;s out of a giant yellow M&amp;M&#39;s side, and used it to bribe her on out of the aisle. (They make a great sound when you shake them, like a maraca -- that made it easy to draw her attention back to being good! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Checking Out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the checkout, I took the two small shopping baskets that were in the aisle and flipped them over, making a bench for Nicole to stand on. Then she could help me put things on the belt. I handed her as much as possible - she was so proud to help me! Other customers were commenting on how adorable she was, and how gleefully she helped Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had to move the cart up to pay for everything, and she was left with nothing to do, she started to get antsy. I picked her up and swung her for a second - then picked her up and swung her upside down. Each time the muffled beginnings of a complaint were transformed into a distracted smile. Then Nicole started to crawl on the floor - but she was being quiet, she was staying near the cart, and most importantly, she was NOT pulling candy-bars off the shelves. This was more than one &quot;kind&quot; shopper could handle, however, and so this strange woman proceeded to come try to &quot;help&quot; me because she was AGHAST that I was letting my child&#39;s hands touch the floor. (Parents, you all totally understand -- if I had encouraged her to stand up and keep to herself, it would have ended in very loud tears. I mean come on, the kid is only 22 months old.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...So this kind do-gooder tried to help distract Nicole from the floor. Fortunately, Nicole was actually distracted and just stood there, staring at the stranger talking to her. Kids know passive agressive well, she was giving the woman a look as if to say, &quot;Just what are you trying to tell my Mommy?&quot; Hahaha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up getting Wegmans&#39; &quot;Helping Hands&quot; to help us to the car. Once we&#39;d checked out, that was too much for Nicole. She wouldn&#39;t have the basket, she wouldn&#39;t walk with me and I couldn&#39;t push the cart and hold her too. That&#39;s the first time I&#39;ve ever had to get help to get the groceries to the car. I am still so proud of her for making it that long, and for being so helpful! As soon as we were in the car, I popped open that little tube of M&amp;M&#39;s, put her tray in her lap, and gave her some. That elicited a few more cheers from Nicole! Thank goodness too. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet another mundane day in our lives... but still an adventure! =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;(Not my child... but might as well be ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-GTQRVh69SQ/SwCUA-9qlNI/AAAAAAAAArs/_1ZHKIL5AMU/s320/kidtasmaniandevil.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 295px; height: 320px;&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-GTQRVh69SQ/SwCUA-9qlNI/AAAAAAAAArs/_1ZHKIL5AMU/s320/kidtasmaniandevil.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/2684219524631562711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/2684219524631562711?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/2684219524631562711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/2684219524631562711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/07/grocery-store-adventures.html' title='Grocery Store Adventures'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-GTQRVh69SQ/SwCUA-9qlNI/AAAAAAAAArs/_1ZHKIL5AMU/s72-c/kidtasmaniandevil.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-1698209905126082780</id><published>2011-07-09T15:44:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-09T15:52:13.559-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog update"/><title type='text'>A New &quot;Name&quot; for &quot;Baby Girl&quot; -- Nicole?</title><content type='html'>OK, &quot;Baby Girl&quot; is no longer an appropriate pseudonym for my daughter. She&#39;s nearly 2, and she&#39;s very much a little girl. I need to come up with something else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given that she&#39;s named after her Dad (kinda), I can run with that and call her &quot;Nicole&quot;. (If you know who we are: Trust me, it makes sense in a round-a-bout kind of way.)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could go the other way and name her after her Dad The E.P.... but obviously, the initials in &quot;Evil Princess&quot; are already taken. ;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BLG (Beautiful Little Girl) sounds like a sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well.... I got stuff to do, I don&#39;t have time to dawdle and dream on this. &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&quot;Nicole&quot; it is - for now, anyway!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;If you have a better idea, please tell me in the comments or on Facebook! =)&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/1698209905126082780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/1698209905126082780?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1698209905126082780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1698209905126082780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/07/new-name-for-baby-girl-nicole.html' title='A New &quot;Name&quot; for &quot;Baby Girl&quot; -- Nicole?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-9086871980528120022</id><published>2011-07-07T18:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-07T18:06:28.153-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Family Update</title><content type='html'>Baby Girl is doin&#39; good! We&#39;ve really learned that gluten does NOT agree with her. Nor dairy, but gluten more than dairy, surprisingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The E.P. is awesome as always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me? Gawd, I&#39;m always talking about my health (just not necessarily on this blog!) I had a take-home sleep-test last night. It turns out the equipment malfunctioned, and I&#39;ll have to do it AGAIN. Given that the sleep center is an hour&#39;s drive away... I&#39;m far from thrilled! I want to know if I have a sleep issue already, so I can resolve it and stop feeling so fatigued all the time. *Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...And that, is the end of this family update. =)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/9086871980528120022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/9086871980528120022?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/9086871980528120022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/9086871980528120022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/07/family-update.html' title='Family Update'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-631555406309459549</id><published>2011-07-05T18:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T18:12:22.074-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Fourth of July</title><content type='html'>I am REALLY proud of us. REALLY proud. Because Baby Girl got to enjoy the fireworks last night without getting throwing a sleepy-fit or being freaked-out by the lights and the dark and the BOOMS. Hurrah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The E.P. and I worked hard to prepare her. Over three days, we carefully adjusted her sleep schedule so that she would be up on Monday evening without growing over-tired. And we talked with her a lot about nightime fireworks. We took several evening walks, one in the dark on a cloudy night to show her that it was safe. We sought out neighbors shooting off small fireworks nearby - we were always too late to watch, but we enjoyed the chase and indoctrinated Baby Girl to the fun with plenty of &quot;BOOM!  CRACK! KA-BOOMS!&quot; in imitation (and silly celebration!) of the sounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday afternoon, we watched a documentary on the show at the National Mall. We also drew pictures of fireworks with Baby Girl. We ensured her that she&#39;d love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she did!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;A Precious Evening with Daddy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up too mosquito-bite ridden to go out, so The E.P. took our girl out by himself. Fortunately, we live just down the road from the local municipal fireworks launch site, so all they had to do was clear the trees to get a good view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they returned home, Baby Girl went quietly to bed. The E.P. told me she&#39;d been very good and not gotten scared or cried once. (!!! Fabulous!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I woke her up, I had to ask her about it. As she squirmed about on the changing pad I asked her, &quot;Did you enjoy the fireworks?&quot; At the sound of that last word, she got the &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;sweetest &lt;/span&gt;smile on her face, and she delightedly sighed &quot;Daaaddy&quot;. It was obviously a magical evening for them both. Too bad she probably won&#39;t remember it when she&#39;s older.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/631555406309459549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/631555406309459549?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/631555406309459549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/631555406309459549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/07/fourth-of-july.html' title='Fourth of July'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-8443571237064480882</id><published>2011-07-03T17:28:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T18:12:23.465-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="local"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Thought"/><title type='text'>Third of July</title><content type='html'>There is nothing so fulfilling as a good ol&#39; picnic in the park with people you love, especially when it starts with live music and truly meaningful (to me) prayer.  *Sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That&#39;s what we had the priveledge of attending this morning! Our church&#39;s annual service and picnic in the park for the 4th of July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was gorgeous, and there was a great turnout. This year, I didn&#39;t have to provide music or run sound - so I got to sit at the park benches with everyone else and just &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;enjoy&lt;/span&gt;. As usual, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.unityofloudoun.org/ministers.htm&quot;&gt;Reverend David&lt;/a&gt;&#39;s message was profoundly moving (how does he know how to speak to just what&#39;s going on in our lives every single week?) and the music by Joe G. and &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.donnamariecary.com/&quot;&gt;Donna Marie Cary&lt;/a&gt; was just fab. Donna Marie was in great form this morning. Hurrah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, one of our members was Christened today, at our church&#39;s first Sunday morning celebration of the kind. There have been a number of children in the congregation welcomed to this world with a Unity Christening (Baby Girl included!) but this was the first to have a public celebration of it. Little C. is such a beautiful light, and his family is incredible and full of love, and it was a heart-growing event for all in attendance. Well... except perhaps for Baby Girl, who at the time was down the hill a little bit, on the swings with her Daddy, refusing to be anywhere but there with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;A Toddler, the Children and High Temperatures&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am SO PROUD of my little girl for being so awesome this morning, given the necessary chaos of any large potluck picnic. I am DOUBLY proud because the heat index at the time was 100 degrees F. OH MY GOD it was HOT! So hot, I was joking that I was glad I wasn&#39;t running sound because with all my sweat pouring off me, I&#39;d short the system out. It&#39;s not really that far from the truth, I was the sweatiest person there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, we prepared Baby Girl well, and actually remembered to bring water, bug repellants (baby-safe and adult-ready), toys, SUNSCREEN, and oh yes, SUNSCREEN. The E.P.* missed half the service because Baby Girl was intent on getting as much playground time as possible, which he obliged. Over the course of several hours, she was drenched in sunscreen 3 times, and still came out half as red as a strawberry (just like her Mommy, I was so hoping she wouldn&#39;t inherit that. Oh well. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When The E.P. or I wasn&#39;t looking after her, the other children were fabulous with Baby Girl. They helped her up and down the playground, encouraged her to use the slide (how were they to know she&#39;s already a super-slide afficionado? lol! It was just HOT and she didn&#39;t want to burn her legs ;) and looked after her like a sibling. It was a joy to watch, especially just after the Christening celebration.  When I was growing up there would be regular Christenings in the churches I attended, and a lot of pretty words were said and a lot of love was shown -- but in the weeks afterward, it never felt like the cohesive church family we&#39;d uniformly (in unison) pledged to be. But at our present church,&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt; even the children&lt;/span&gt; are heavily involved in everyday spiritual growth and sustenance of the church - we respect openly respect them in both words and actions, and trust them to respect each other. So they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point, a couple younger girls were playing with Baby Girl. I had to get her in the shade before she got heat exhaustion -- I thanked one of the girls several times for being so great with my daughter, and then told Baby Girl that we had to go up into the shade -- that &quot;These big kids know how to take care of themselves in this heat -- see, they&#39;re not as red as you are, they are taking care of themselves, using sunscreen, not playing too hard and drinking water.&quot; As we walked up the hill back to the picnic shelter, several of the children proudly told me that they were going to go get some water too. I had honored them for being respectful of their bodies - and in doing so, they became respectful of their bodies&#39; needs in the moment. (I love it when stuff like that happens. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Fabulous Conversation with Fabulous People&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know, all I&#39;m doing here is gushing. But seriously, I&#39;ve been craving such a great event for a while. I was oblivious while The E.P. kept running after Baby Girl, but I&#39;m so grateful to him for giving me that opportunity to engage in fun discussion with some other adults. I learned some really valuable things and hope I was able to pass along some good information too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the first church community I&#39;ve ever belonged to where I feel like I actually belong. I am NOT implying that &quot;Everyone should come to my church!&quot;  Heck no! We are all different, Spirit created each of us to be unique, and as such our spiritual paths are unique. Other people would feel like constant outcasts in Unity, and yet embrace other traditions as fish to water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus our lives are so busy, I&#39;m coming to rely on my Church family for friendships. That is new as well; in the past, friendships made at church tended to be the ones with the least sturdy foundation, for a variety of reasons that make up an essay for another day. I find that I actually depend on my church community, a concept I&#39;ve heard about all my life but never quite experienced. And it&#39;s lovely. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;*For &quot;new&quot; readers to this blog, &quot;The E.P.&quot; is my &quot;Evil Prince&quot;, my nickname for my DH since long before we were married. Oooh, those lordly &#39;evil&#39; know-it-all types with dark hair and a biting wit are sexy. ;) &lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/8443571237064480882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/8443571237064480882?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/8443571237064480882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/8443571237064480882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/07/third-of-july.html' title='Third of July'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-8653277134366441352</id><published>2011-06-27T19:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T19:56:17.698-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="travel"/><title type='text'>Summer Adventure Planning</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s summertime!  It&#39;s crazy-hectic time, but dang it, we are going to take some time out to celebrate and enjoy the season. Baby Girl turns Two toward the end of the summer - I want to make sure she learns some new things and enjoys the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;I&#39;ve got some ideas &lt;span style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;In the Works&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Fourth of July &lt;/span&gt;-- word has it there&#39;s a parade here&#39;bouts! I better get the information on that asap. There&#39;s a parade and some kind of festival and fireworks, I&#39;m sure. I think Baby Girl will LOVE fireworks this year - she love sparkly things and jewelry and airplanes and butterflies and fireflies -- how could she not? =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Local Petting Zoo&lt;/span&gt; -- There is a &lt;a href=&quot;http://leesburganimalpark.com/&quot;&gt;petting zoo&lt;/a&gt; only about 10 miles away, with everything from sheep to giraffes. It&#39;s time we saw some of the animals in her books in person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Udvar-Hazy&lt;/span&gt; -- Have I mentioned that Baby Girl LOVES airplanes? Anytime she hears one, she points to the sky and states, &quot;Ay-pwane!&quot; for all to hear. (Much better than &quot;Uh-oh!&quot;, which she used to say!) If it flies, she loves it. If it&#39;s locomotive, she loves it (hence she loves Trains too - fictional ones anyway). I think she will LOVE the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.nasm.si.edu/udvarhazy/&quot;&gt;local Air &amp;amp; Space museum&lt;/a&gt; - at least for about 20 minutes. More than that might be too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;Dulles Viewing Area&lt;/span&gt; -- Where&#39;s the local observation point for the runways? We&#39;ve GOT to find it. Not the end of the runway -- too harsh on her little ears, and it might scare her. But she would LOVE to watch the planes take off and land. I think she gets that they do, or that there may be people inside them -- but by observing a runway, she could Really learn about flying. Hmm, &lt;a href=&quot;http://hubpages.com/hub/Plane-Spotting-at-Dulles--Reagan-National-and-BWI-Washington--D-CAirports&quot;&gt;seems Udvar-Hazy is it&lt;/a&gt;; no Gravely Park like at Reagan National.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight: bold;&quot;&gt;The Giant Playground in Sterling&lt;/span&gt; -- There is a&lt;a href=&quot;http://playspacefinder.kaboom.org/playspaces/11605-briar-patch-park/photos/28776&quot;&gt; HUGE playground on Sterling Blvd&lt;/a&gt;. HUGE. We could make a family trip to the awesome pupusaria out there, with a good long stop at that playground first. It&#39;s like a play-palace!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any other suggestions for local stuff?  =D</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/8653277134366441352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/8653277134366441352?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/8653277134366441352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/8653277134366441352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/06/summer-adventure-planning.html' title='Summer Adventure Planning'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-3855313068073323767</id><published>2011-06-27T19:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T19:31:26.316-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><title type='text'>Cutest Sentence Ever!</title><content type='html'>While it&#39;s not her first sentence, it is the most adorable Baby Girl has uttered so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Yay! Daddy&#39;s home!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;;)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/3855313068073323767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/3855313068073323767?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3855313068073323767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3855313068073323767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/06/cutest-sentence-ever.html' title='Cutest Sentence Ever!'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-1181171270279941784</id><published>2011-06-09T01:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T01:48:56.121-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="newsworthy"/><title type='text'>A Real Scare: Calling the Paramedics for Baby Girl - UPDATED</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;It&#39;s been over a week now since the horrifying day&lt;/span&gt; the paramedics came by to check on Baby Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story isn&#39;t very long. Gigi called me at work to tell me that the little one had a low fever and was uncharacteristically quiet and had even napped at an odd time, hence she was going to call the Advice Nurse. (This kind of call usually is a courtesy call to me to let me know I may have to leave work to drive to the doctor&#39;s office in a little bit. But at the time, I doubted I&#39;d have to leave.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short while later, Gigi called again. &quot;I&#39;m calling 9-11 now at the Advice Nurses&#39; recommendation, I can&#39;t wake her up,&quot; was a brief, terrifying message. &quot;Bye.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stunned, I finished a work-related online task and let it sink in. &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;Why am I still here, on Paypal?&lt;/span&gt; I thought to myself. &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;Because I&#39;ll forgot where I left off and it&#39;ll end up in error. But is that really more important than Baby Girl?&lt;/span&gt; Of course not! I gathered my things and stumbled out the door, practically tripping over the words &quot;I have to go! Gigi&#39;s calling the paramedics on Baby Girl!&quot; as I spun out the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;What A Ride Home that was!&lt;/span&gt; I whipped out a credit card and took the Greenway. I called the EP, I called my sister, my best friend, and my in-laws. &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;And I totally started FREAKING OUT.&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I thought about Mom&#39;s words to me over the phone just minutes before, my breath drew tense and shallow. &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;What if...?&lt;/span&gt; Like all mothers, I have an innate fear of losing her early. It&#39;d be just my luck, my evil ego likes to tell me. For a few seconds, I was enveloped in a mental world in which Baby Girl was gone, and it was like the day my father died all over again. I called The EP again, practically sobbing, seeking the calming words I &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;knew &lt;/span&gt;he&#39;d provide. With his help, I didn&#39;t careen off the road or pull over and give up. (Later I learned, he was freaking out too, but hiding it well.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The paramedics left before I made it home.&lt;/span&gt; I knew they would, EMS teams are nothing if not efficient. The good news was, they didn&#39;t take Baby Girl with them! Here&#39;s what happened:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mom (Gigi) called the advice nurse.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;As she was on the phone with the nurse, Baby Girl was drifting off to sleep and became hard to arouse.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Finally, Mom could not wake her up. She tried everything. The nurse said to call 9-11 immediately.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mom called me.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She called 9-11.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baby Girl&#39;s breathing became very fast and shallow.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The paramedic on the phone with her advised Mom to put Baby Girl on the floor (hard surface) and tilt her head back to help her breathing.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The baby was limp when Gigi lifted her, but started to move slightly by the time Mom got her to the floor.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mom did as the paramedic said to help her breath.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;UP! she popped and ran into the living room!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Baby Girl was running around contentedly by the time the ambulance arrived. The paramedics checked her out, and after all was said and done, determined that &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;something &lt;/span&gt;had definitely happened, even if it had passed. Mom was not hallucinating.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;While they were there, Baby Girl spiked another fever, then it went back down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Given all her vital signs were fine, Mom opted not to take her to the ER (a possibly traumatizing experience) and called the Advice Nurse back to make an urgent appt. with the doctor.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got home!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Baby Girl was thoroughly examined by her Doc. We talked and talked and discussed and the Doctor told us what she thinks may have happened: A rare type of seizure that infants/children get when they spike a fever. Ten percent of children born to families with a history of epilepsy get this type of seizure; only one percent otherwise. Baby Girl did not shake, but having this type of seizure doesn&#39;t necessarily mean that one convulses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a particulatly hot day, with air temperatures hovering near 100 degrees and a dangerous air quality. Although we purposefully kept Baby Girl inside in the A/C, children are still greatly affected by such weather. And -- here&#39;s the kicker -- she was teething.  Baby Girl &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;always &lt;/span&gt;gets a fever when she&#39;s teething.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is, this type os seizure is not harmful, just scary. There&#39;s still a possibility that something else happened, but for now, we&#39;ll go with it, and pray that nothing more serious is going on.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/1181171270279941784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/1181171270279941784?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1181171270279941784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/1181171270279941784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/06/real-scare-calling-paramedics-for-baby.html' title='A Real Scare: Calling the Paramedics for Baby Girl - UPDATED'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-4199604565709918871</id><published>2011-06-03T01:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T01:35:36.972-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Monday&#39;s Trip to the Pool</title><content type='html'>We made it to the pool on Memorial Day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It almost didn&#39;t happen. When we went over there at 11AM (opening time), as a family, decked out in our suits and all -- the lifeguard said she needed 2 more hours to clean the pool. Extremely disappointed, we left, knowing that Daddy had to leave at 1PM.  Baby girl was obviously confused -- we&#39;d just made a big fuss about her new bathing suit, and this whole &quot;pool&quot; thing! Now we&#39;re back home! Fortunately, we were able to satiate her urgent desire to be outside doing things by having some family time in the shaded area just outside our patio door.  As a bonus, there was a 2 year old boy that baby girl played nicely with, and they had a great time together setting up and taking down her baby &quot;bowling pins&quot;, and putting them in the bag and taking them out again. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, at 1PM, Daddy left to spend some needed time with his dorky friends, being dorks together. Fortunately, he came home earlier than expected, and so we were able to take an evening trip to the pool together at around 7PM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby Girl LOVED her first excursion to the pool. With one exception. Shortly after we put her in the toddler pool, as she gained her footing and confidence, she drove face-first in, arms outstretched, embracing the water! Daddy quickly grabbed her up, and while she coughed a little she did not choke or gasp for air. She did, however, scare the pants off herself, and wanted out of the water immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I so felt for her during this experience. She LOVES bathtime. She has no fear in the tub, and has a remarkable sense of balance for her age. Daddy took the opportunity of her &quot;dive&quot; to talk with Baby girl about respect for the water, and while she wasn&#39;t about to get in it again, she seemed fine as long as we were holding her above it.  (Oh her expression was so serious! Deep in thought she was!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this time, we put the floaties on her arms. Amazingly, she did NOT resist, and even helped! (She had resisted my attempts to get them on her at home, but I wanted her to be prepared, and apparently my efforts worked. =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up spending the majority of our time in the main pool, by the decorative fountain/bench. It&#39;s in a shallow area and is made to sit on with the water lightly splashing down on your back. She did not want to go deeper than her knees in the water. But she really enjoyed sitting on the fountain, kicking her legs, watching everyone else in the pool have tons of fun around her! There were boys playing with balls, a game or two of Marco Polo, other parents and young kids -- Baby girl was enthralled.  We stood by her in such a way as to protect her, shade her from the setting (HOT) sun, and give her some space to take it all in without smothering her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We showed her how much fun *we* have in the water. We took turns swimming (I love to go underwater!) and we played little water games with her. We let her know she was safe, and we enjoyed being with her there, and all in all I think her first experience with the pool was a great one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we left, she&#39;d been smiling for a while. I can hardly wait to go again!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/4199604565709918871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/4199604565709918871?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4199604565709918871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4199604565709918871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/06/mondays-trip-to-pool.html' title='Monday&#39;s Trip to the Pool'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-3160770631265907979</id><published>2011-05-30T10:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-30T10:39:16.669-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>To the Pool We Go! &amp; other baby updates.</title><content type='html'>We&#39;re getting ready to take baby girl to the pool!  Whoo hoo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She&#39;s never been. She played in little plastic pools a few times last summer, and she&#39;s been to Lake Erie, but she&#39;s never been in any contained body of chlorinated water just to play except, well, except the bathtub. And she LOVES the bathtub!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since we moved to our new community, whenever we walk with her by the pool we&#39;ve tried to explain that she&#39;s gonna LOVE it, that it&#39;s like a big bathtub except it&#39;s ALL for play (and you don&#39;t have to worry about shampooing and all that. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In preparation, I got her the cutest little one-piece at Target, swimmers (diapers), and broke out the floatation gear I was given by a fellow Freecycler over a year ago. (The floaters came with... oh, something we acquired before she was born, like a box of clothes and the changing table or something.) I&#39;m not sure we&#39;ll be able to get the floaties on her arms today, we might have to sit with her in the baby pool and just hold her this first time. &quot;Hold your arm out straight and keep it there!&quot; is beyond her current ability to follow directions. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;A Baby&#39;s Progress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She&#39;s really been growing up lately, by leaps and bounds. She has started saying sentences, particularly &quot;I see a duck/bird/rabbih!&quot; or &quot;I fell down!&quot; or &quot;Uh oh!  Up!&quot; which means &quot;I hear an airplane but I can&#39;t see it!&quot; LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;She LOVES to draw.&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; We draw on the patio doors daily. She&#39;s very good about keeping her crayons to the glass doors or her paper, and only strays to walls/furniture when the glass is too crayoned-up or the paper is out of reach. So as long as we keep on top of those two things, she&#39;s welcome to walk around the house with her crayons. When I catch her straying, a firm &quot;Glass or paper! Go to the doors!&quot; works every time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend has seen a big change for her: &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;We got rid of the high chair.&lt;/span&gt; Yes, she&#39;s only 21 months old, but she&#39;s ready; plus we need to her to move on a little early as our apartment is small and the high chair is constantly in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She&#39;d been kinda transitioning for a while. She has a baby rocker that was her father&#39;s and her grandfather&#39;s and on back a few generations -- for some time, we&#39;ve been pulling it up to the footstool for her to color or eat a snack. In restaurants, she demanded to grow out of the high chairs and into the booster seats, no longer satisfied to be strapped in at the end of the table. She doesn&#39;t stay in her booster seat of course, but she&#39;ll use it or our laps and sit calmly and color/eat when she refuses to do so in a high chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I got an $11 booster seat at Target last week, Gigi strapped it to a dining room chair, and now baby girl eats at the table with us -- or at least Next to us as we futz about online, as the case may be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s harder for her to climb in and out of the seat, but we&#39;ll all adjust. We don&#39;t bother to use the leg straps with it, they irritate her and she&#39;s very sure footed (like my Dad and I). I put some little rubber bumpers on the bottom of a rigid decorative mat to protect the table surface, since table cloths are still too dangerous to use around her regularly at this time (too tempting to pull on, whoo I made something move wow fun!) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;u&gt;Casein and Other Irritants&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby girl has now been off dairy for two whole weeks, and today we start two weeks off gluten in addition to the dairy. All because of the last few months, we&#39;ve seen the return of colic, and it was becoming unbearable for all of us -- especially her, who was regularly in pain, rolling on the floor, not wanting to be touched and there was Nothing we could do. An x-ray also showed a major backup in her system, and we&#39;re still working to clear up her constipation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But going off the dairy... WOW what a difference! She had started regressing in a few areas that I had hoped were just due to growth spurts -- as a baby learns to walk they babble less, or as they learn to talk they stall in their physical growth -- but wow, no, it was the Dairy! Her attention span has returned, we can read books with her again. She had suddenly become fearful on the playground slide, she is now getting over that again. And she&#39;s talking SO MUCH MORE, with much less pain, fewer tantrums, and better sleep for everyone in the house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I&#39;m still not 100% certain it&#39;s casein and not lactose, but as casein intolerance often show up as excess mucus in the system and her perpetually-runny-nose has cleared up... Am hoping it&#39;s casein. She may eventually be able to have chevre and some other quality goat/sheep dairy products.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today starts the first day of 2 weeks off gluten. The wheat in her diet has already been somewhat restricted, but now it&#39;s being entirely removed. I have a feeling her bowel irritation is going to quickly clear up. I&#39;m going to give up dairy for these next two weeks myself, and see what changes in me. I have a really good feeling about it!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/3160770631265907979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/3160770631265907979?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3160770631265907979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3160770631265907979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/05/to-pool-we-go-other-baby-updates.html' title='To the Pool We Go! &amp; other baby updates.'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-4013459013888851503</id><published>2011-05-29T13:54:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-29T14:00:12.642-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><title type='text'>Will My Brain Ever Catch Up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;I feel like I&#39;m in a perpetual state of too-much-in-my-head.&lt;/span&gt; I&#39;ve still got SO much going on, including several unresolved emotional/spiritual-type issues that I&#39;m avoiding. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;I had 4 hours at home to myself&lt;/span&gt; yesterday, and how did I use them? I could have done some reading, or stared at the ceiling, or listened/meditated to music. But of course, in my fashion, &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;I worked hard the whole time doing things around the house&lt;/span&gt;. I rearranged some furniture and drawers, went to Home Depot, etc. etc. So I&#39;m still &quot;desperate&quot; for some time to just chill, but obviously I&#39;m not as desperate as I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...But the house is still a cluttered mess, and while progress has been made, it bothers me. I don&#39;t feel that I can give myself time to rest while the place is in such shape. But I&#39;m not even sure that&#39;s true -- perhaps it&#39;s just something I&#39;m telling myself as I procrastinate on some needed self-work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno. All I do know is that now, while the baby is sleeping, is the best time to go to the grocery store. And that sucks, as I&#39;d rather take a nap with her, and stare at the ceiling and listen to some music....</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/4013459013888851503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/4013459013888851503?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4013459013888851503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4013459013888851503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/05/will-my-brain-ever-catch-up.html' title='Will My Brain Ever Catch Up?'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-3221089887472717832</id><published>2011-05-22T16:23:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T16:57:42.423-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="business"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Thought"/><title type='text'>Sparkly Opportunities *or* Streaming from my Consciousness on a Sunday Afternoon</title><content type='html'>Brain overload!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I already blogged this, but I have &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;so much&lt;/span&gt; on my mind, I can hardly start thinking about any of it at all. It&#39;s like having so many cars in the parking lot that no one can move. Brain-circuit traffic jam!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...So I find myself like I did this morning, in the shower, deep in concentration, when it suddenly dawns on me that I need to continue bathing. So I fill my palm with shampoo, and suddenly remember that &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;I already washed my hair&lt;/span&gt;. Dang! Soap down the drain. What day is it again? [lol!]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Of Jewels and Sparkle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primarily important on my mind is the needed second job. As I&#39;ve reiterated countless times in this space (or maybe just on Facebook) I am not by any means an ideal candidate for a nine-to-five. SO many reasons what that&#39;s a bad idea for me. I&#39;d much rather work two jobs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a shiny, sparkly brilliant opportunity at my fingertips. It&#39;s part time, the hours are flexible, the earning potential is good, and I really like the product. It would be a great outlet for my extroverted, public-speaking-loving side, and help me to socialize. But the best part is the product: It&#39;s jewelry! Really gorgeous and affordable costume jewelry. I went to three parties for this particular direct seller in the past year, had a blast at all of them, and have started a small collection of their pieces.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Yes, &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;. I started an everyday jewelry collection. I like it that much!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I&#39;m partially terrified to take on this new role in direct sales. I have a past in the industry, and have already learned my strengths and weaknesses in the field. Among my weaknesses is a tendency to be ultra-hard on myself, to the extent that it affects my self-esteem and ultimately, my sales. I get down on myself, and I start to believe that I&#39;m not going to make any sales. My sales figures start to drop, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy. And yet, it&#39;s all in my head. When I&#39;m feeling good and well dressed and in my element, I do Very Well Indeed! But I tend to sabotage myself before I get started. I remind myself daily that I don&#39;t &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.whatthebleep.com/&quot;&gt;(k)πow BLeeP&lt;/a&gt;. And while I&#39;m working on it, I&#39;m not yet proficient at developing a positive self-attitude on a daily basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that the more I talk this out, the more likely I am to overcome it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/3221089887472717832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/3221089887472717832?isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3221089887472717832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/3221089887472717832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/05/sparkly-opportunities-or-streaming-from.html' title='Sparkly Opportunities *or* Streaming from my Consciousness on a Sunday Afternoon'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-2724251534852689157</id><published>2011-05-20T14:43:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T14:59:14.744-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><title type='text'>So much to Process means Blogging Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;I used to journal a lot. &lt;/span&gt;I&#39;d journal for hours, several times a week or a month at least. I have book and books of my scribbles saved, taking up valuable space in our small home -- I&#39;m sure they will come in handy one day or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When times are really good, or very stressful, or very hectic, I find I don&#39;t make the time to write. This past year has been a mixture of all three of those climates! It reminds me of something my Mom told me that Paul Simon said. While I don&#39;t have an exact quote, it had to do with only writing songs when sad or depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I find I need to start journaling again. However, it&#39;s difficult for me while I have a needy toddler at home. She&#39;s not special needs or anything - she&#39;s just super-extroverted, and as a Myers-Briggs INTP* I find that being with her just drains my personal energy. I&#39;m working to learn &lt;a href=&quot;http://massagemag.com/massage-blog/presence-matters/&quot;&gt;Full Body Presence&lt;/a&gt; but it&#39;s gonna take a while to get to a point where it&#39;s a habit that keeps me from getting drained. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;*Technically I&#39;m an XNTP, both I &amp; E sides are strong in different circumstances. The Gemini in me I guess!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Blogging... makes it easier to journal.&lt;/span&gt; I can&#39;t be as personal, stream-of-consciousness, as grammatically-whacked, or draw crazy doodles in the margins, but I can get my basic thoughts down in a time efficient manner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writing helps me sort and organize the misty clouds of my thoughts, which otherwise bleed together in a big blur of pictures, colors and shapes. On my mind of late:&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;My second quarter-life crisis? Challenges in self-identity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Should I take that second job?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Do I have to start wearing makeup everyday to teach my daughter self-respect (to overcome my own apparent lack thereof in some areas)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Are my latest creative thoughts worth organizing/sharing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;How&#39;m I gonna get my cat enough indoor exercise to stop gnawing on me all the time?&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oooh that dang cat! I love him, but he seriously seems to believe that I&#39;m some kind of chew toy he can attack with abandon. I don&#39;t have to do anything to &quot;set him off&quot; (i.e. inappropriate roughhousing, etc.) - he just launches at me, scarring up my arms and putting holes in my clothes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....But that&#39;s a post for another day. =)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/2724251534852689157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/2724251534852689157?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/2724251534852689157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/2724251534852689157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/05/so-much-to-process-means-blogging-again.html' title='So much to Process means Blogging Again'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-4553288061704506328</id><published>2011-05-18T20:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T21:17:06.135-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="baby"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="everyday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><title type='text'>Adventures in Parenting: Time Outs and the Battle over Bathtime</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s about time I start blogging some of this stuff, for all posterity. That and because I know there&#39;s family out there who want to know what&#39;s going on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Battle Over Bathtime &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;started some weeks ago. Since we moved to the new place, overnight baby girl started to LOVE taking a bath (a complete reversal of her personal opinion on the matter!) She loves to play in the water, and get clean, and play, and play some more. She has a nice selection of age appropriate toys in a convenient little toy-holder suctioned to the tile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loves the bath SO much.... she started asking for them. A Lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, when refused a second or possibly a third bath in a single day, she started protesting. Her protests escalated, and currently resemble something out of a &lt;a href=&quot;http://littleblackblog.net/peta-enthusiasts-still-using-animal-rights-as-an-excuse-to-get-naked/&quot;&gt;PETA demonstration in front of Georgetown storefronts&lt;/a&gt; with the addition of some whining and pity-me-cries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nowadays, it starts early in the morning with a casual slip of the word &quot;Bath!&quot; followed by a happy stroll over to the bathroom and 30 seconds of silence. During this period, she&#39;s stripping down, diaper and all. Then she stands in front of the bathroom door lamenting &quot;Bath! Bath&quot; and grabbing at the door handle. If she can&#39;t get her clothes off (i.e. if the sleeves of her shirt confound her) then she just starts whining and complaining for help to get naked -- THEN she runs to the bathroom and demands an audience with the big chrome faucet. For this reason, I now keep the bathroom door closed nearly all the time, despite having babyproofed the space so that she can go in and enjoy two of her other favorite activities: Combing her hair and &quot;brushing&quot; her teeth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have never, that I remember, fully given in as soon as she starts feeling entitled and strutting about naked. On those mornings when I&#39;ve planned to give her a bath, I&#39;ll wait until she asks politely (before the gloves - er, the clothes - come off) and then treat her to it. If a bath is not forthcoming, however, I calmly let her know, ask her to put her diaper back on, and give her a time-out warning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;Over the Past Week, the Introduction of Time Out&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; has gone quite well! Gigi, Daddy and myself are very consistent in our approach to it and to baby. Super Nanny would be proud. As our tweeny-toddler starts testing her boundaries, we&#39;ve started setting them. For example, if she thows her toys inappropriately, we say &quot;No,&quot; explain that we don&#39;t do that, and ask her to stop. If she does it again, we reiterate the rule and give her a warning that she&#39;s going into Time Out if she does it again. When she breaks the rule, we say &quot;OK, you&#39;re in Time Out!&quot; and immediately pick her up and put her in the corner, so that she associates Time Out with the undesired behavior. The first couple days, she was only in the corner for about 30 seconds or so, perhaps less. She is only 21 months old after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Within 3 days, she&#39;s completely learned the concept of &quot;Time Out&quot;&lt;/span&gt; and learned how to stay in the corner until we say she&#39;s free to go. &lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;Yesterday there was a ground-breaking moment when she threw a toy, Daddy asked her to stop, she threw it again, and I gave her the warning. The expression her face melted from coy &quot;make me!&quot; laughter to dawning recognition and shock. Her mouth fell open, I could see the sincere apology in her eyes, and she went and &lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;put herself in Time Out&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt; Three days in! Three days and she&#39;s putting herself in Time Out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;&lt;U&gt;Baby Goes To War&lt;/U&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to stall baby girl&#39;s bathtime requests this morning by telling her she&#39;d get one soon and by giving her Time Out a time or two (as appropriate). While standing up and whimpering in the corner, she let me put her diaper back on her and stopped fussing. I finished a couple chores and my massive cup of coffee before treating her to some quality time in the tub with her toys -- on my schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After her afternoon nap, she started up again. I told her no, I already gave her a bath today. I ended up having to put her in Time Out in  her crib until she let me put her diaper on her; I am not amenable to babies peeing anywhere they want on the floor. After a few minutes it clicked with her, she let me redress her and we went about our normal business, reading books and watching the torrential rains outside the patio window together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 5:30PM she took her clothes and diaper off and had a little meltdown outside the bathroom. I put her in Time Out and tried to put her diaper back on her. She refused. She ABSOLUTELY refused! So I put her in the crib, sat down and calmly explained, once again, that as long as she refuses to wear her diaper, she can&#39;t walk around the house. I held up her diaper and motioned to the changing pad so that there was no misunderstanding. She cried, she pleaded, she yelled &quot;Baby, baby!&quot; (a plea for cuddles). However, each time I went back in her room, sat down and asked her again, holding up the clean diaper, she&#39;d look at it and sob &quot;N-noooo!&quot;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;OK, see you in a few minutes,&quot; I&#39;d calmly say and leave the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-weight:bold;&quot;&gt;The Battle over Bathtime had definitely become a war!&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Pee splashed down on my toes as she begged me to release her from the prison of her crib. And still she refused her diaper! It took an hour and two pees in the bed for her to settle down and consent to put the diaper back on. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not pull her out of her soiled crib. I did not give her a bath. I was very firm about this, as was Daddy and Gigi, both of whom she called to for help. All three of us were consistent and firm in this. While some might see it as cruel, I see it as essential. Because to give her a bath tonight would be to teach her that all she has to do is take off her diaper and pee. There&#39;s no way I&#39;m going to let that happen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time I went in and spoke with her about it, she expressed remorse but still refused the diaper. I calmly explained the entire situation one more time; she must wear a diaper or stay in her crib. I held up the diaper one last time, which was the first time she didn&#39;t cry &quot;NO!&quot; at the mere mention of it. I consider that a victory. As I picked her up and placed her on the changing pad, I carefully observed her body language. She didn&#39;t fight my putting the diaper on her in the least. She even lifted her feet for me to put her capris back on. The war over, and facing defeat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...she immediately morphed into a happy, playful little girl not one bit concerned with her diaper, her pee or bathtime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We&#39;ve had a lovely evening ever since! =D</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/4553288061704506328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/4553288061704506328?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4553288061704506328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/4553288061704506328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/05/adventures-in-parenting-time-outs-and.html' title='Adventures in Parenting: Time Outs and the Battle over Bathtime'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10841199.post-562030142426992077</id><published>2011-05-08T08:55:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T09:47:54.576-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Thought"/><title type='text'>Mother&#39;s Day Thoughts</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s nearly a year since I posted here... and yet once again, I return for purely selfish reasons!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m preparing to give a talk last-minute and I need a quick and easy way to organize my thoughts.  Hence... the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Mother&#39;s Day. Today I have agreed to give a short talk about a way that I&#39;ve seen my Mother change gracefully over time - and how that has impacted my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It &lt;i&gt;should&lt;/i&gt; be easy! This should take me about 5 minutes. (If it seems surprising that I say that, know that I wrote my 90 page thesis in less than 2 days, and I won a public speaking award in college.) I should have had this thing done and finished days ago. And yet... here I am, in a fast food restaurant (where I can be &quot;alone&quot;) cramming for my final, once again. (Good thing I always passed!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....But I&#39;m still totally nervous, because it&#39;s 9AM and I now have 1/2 an hour left to organize my thoughts and finish this thing. GAH!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**Breathe, breathe, calm, calm.**&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel that this should also be easy because my Mom and I share a history of growth and spiritual discovery together. In fact, I plan to open by discussing that, and how that&#39;s led to my topic: Patience. Yet, here I am blocked. There has been SO MUCH going on in my life lately -- so much change, responsibility, growth, stress, growth -- that I&#39;m in a bit of a fog and can&#39;t clearly see what I know is there, the ideas floating right in front of my consciousness but clouded over by high cortizone levels and too much sugar. The best cure, for me, has always been to default to stream-of-consciousness writings. And since typing is much faster than longhand, here I am, sitting in McDonalds typing into Blogger. (With an iced latte by my side. I heart coffee!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so... let me begin at the beginning, with where my notes started and stopped a few days ago when I began this process.  Here it begins....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;U&gt;&lt;b&gt;A Graceful Change in Mom and How It&#39;s Impacted My Life&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother has been working on a process of spiritual growth and development for my entire life. This particular journey began for her several years before I was born, when she hit her personal rock bottom, made some revelations and changes in her life, and began a life-long quest for peace, serenity, and acceptance for herself and everyone around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s something we&#39;ve always shared. She was fresh into her journey when I was little. I&#39;ve always found that energy very inspiring, in her or anyone -- those first months and years after someone makes a spiritual leap and the growth and activities that come with it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve been with her on her journey as her situation has changed, through really hard times and really good ones. I&#39;ve seen the journey become stale and old (as it does for us all - it&#39;s part of the process) - and I&#39;ve rejoiced in the rejuvenation of the journey, such as she and I have both experienced since joining this brilliant community here at Unity of Loudoun County.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to pick one aspect of change in Mom seemed, at first, a daunting one, as I&#39;ve been so close to forest it&#39;s hard to see the individual trees. It&#39;s even harder because, as her daughter and closest relative, I&#39;ve got branches on more than one of those trees! My own forest is populated by seedings from the glorious wilderness of Mom&#39;s being. Our journeys are so closely connected. We share the same clouds and rain and the same life-giving sunshine. To take the analogy a step further: Two trees may grow to great heights from the ground, but to each other they always seem just a few feet apart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I can already tell I&#39;m going to cry when I give this talk.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going through the most prominent colors of the forest, it occured to me that there is a recurring theme. Upon closer inspection, the branches and trunks of many of the different trees share a similar sap. It has to distinct tastes: That of patience with others, and patience with herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience is, in fact, that area in which I have witnessed the greatest graceful change within my Mother&#39;s life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[I&#39;ve been typing for 18 minutes and I&#39;m half done. Yay! I think I&#39;m going to have to literally carry my laptop up to the stand and read this verbatim. My public speaking professor would be horrified. ;]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look back, I am surprised to realize just how impatient Mom was while I was growing up. In retrospect I am surprised that I&#39;m surprised! She was has undiagnosed ADHD for most of that time. She was always VERY hard on herself. She was always concerned with what other people might think. She and my Dad were both black sheep, and she never herself (or me) forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(One great thing about having a Mom with ADHD, is she&#39;s ground me one minute, and forget in the next. 2-week groundings lasted about 2 days at the most. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In one famous family incident, Mom asked me to clean my room. To me, my room was always supposed to be My Space. MINE. She should have no jurisdiction there. I mean, as long as there wasn&#39;t rotting trash or squirrels or something. I should have the right to determine my own level of clutter-comfort. But Mom never saw it that way. So this one day, I cleaned up my room beautifully - everything in it&#39;s place, dusted and everything. &lt;i&gt;But I purposefully left one kleenex on the floor.&lt;/i&gt; One kleenex, to pretend I&#39;d missed. Just to see what would happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Sigh) Mom totally blew her top when she saw that kleenex. I, offended that my work wasn&#39;t good enough despite one little tissue, fought back. By the next day I snuck out of being grounded again. ;) But for two tense hours we barely spoke to each other without raised voices or tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I look back on this incident, I come to two substantial realizations. The first one is that Mom would NEVER do that today. It is no longer in her being to be like that. The second is that what I was really trying to do with that incident, which I did successfully, was to prove that Mom&#39;s obsession with cleanliness had to do with herself and had almost nothing to do with me. Subconsciously, she, like thousands of parents, probably viewed me as an area of her life in which she could control what others perception of her must be. Or rather, what she thought it must be. And her thoughts on that weren&#39;t good. And she had no patience for herself in this regard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we&#39;ve both matured over the years, there has been a subtle shift in Mom. I can see that, as she&#39;s learned to be patient with herself, she&#39;s been more patient with me. As she&#39;s worked to learn - not just to hear and know but to learn, in her bones - that she is a whole and complete child of God just as she is, she&#39;s slowly stopped being so concerned with what her dysfunctional family thinks about her, what her friends think about her, what I think about her. Old habits die hard and I can tell you right now, as I speak, her wheels are probably turning pretty fast! But she knows how to divert that cart off to the side and not let her ego usurp her perceptions. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I realize that, as all of this has occurred, it&#39;s not that Mom learned to be more patient with me. That thought never felt right to me. She&#39;s always loved me, unconditionally, with a divine love, so how can her losses of patience with me be about me? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago, we decided we could never live together ever again! We were fed up. And yet, we didn&#39;t love each other any less than we do now. We just had less patience with ourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now we&#39;ve lived together for over 3 years, for the last 2 months of those in a very tight space. And yes, she occasionally loses her patience with me, and I with her. But we don&#39;t treat those times as affronts. Rather, they are alarm bells that we head with respect and, dare I say, some semblance of patience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As my Mom has grown more patient with herself, she has mirrored that patience onto the people and situations around her. And that is a graceful change that I can say I have witnessed and experienced with joy in my heart. I love you Mom!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/feeds/562030142426992077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/10841199/562030142426992077?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/562030142426992077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10841199/posts/default/562030142426992077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://puppyshine.blogspot.com/2011/05/mothers-day-thoughts.html' title='Mother&#39;s Day Thoughts'/><author><name>Unknown</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>