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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;C04EQX89cSp7ImA9WhRRFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:58:20.169-05:00</updated><category term="babyproofing" /><category term="drama" /><category term="crunchy" /><category term="date night" /><category term="mcfatty monday" /><category term="books" /><category term="guilty pleasures" /><category term="random" /><category term="shopping" /><category term="infertility" /><category term="birthday party" /><category term="gift" /><category term="Derek" /><category term="renovation" /><category term="valentine's day" /><category term="motivation" /><category term="lazy" /><category term="IKEA" /><category term="allergies" /><category term="church" /><category term="sushi" /><category term="awards" /><category term="insurance" /><category term="vacay" /><category term="quotes" /><category term="work" /><category term="cleaning" /><category term="pregnancy" /><category term="birth story" /><category term="prayer" /><title>Rachel's Nutshell</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>42</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/RachelsNutshell" /><feedburner:info uri="rachelsnutshell" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYCRXYzcCp7ImA9Wx5bGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-4012549039398182046</id><published>2010-11-04T09:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T09:26:04.888-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-04T09:26:04.888-04:00</app:edited><title>Fa la la la la....it's holiday cards time again!</title><content type="html">&lt;!--[if !mso]&gt; &lt;style&gt;
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&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;We’re now down to 50 days until Christmas. I can feel the stress seeping into my body as I’m typing that out. There is so much going on this year. Luckily, holiday cards aren’t one of those stresses. I’ve been in love with Shutterfly for years now and they never cease to amaze me. They always have great deals on pictures and their holiday cards rock. We usually try to take our own holiday pictures and this will be the second year we’ll get to take them with Derek and the first year we’ll take them as a family of four. Next year we’ll have to manhandle a toddler and a baby into looking at the camera. Now THAT stresses me. Here’s some of the holiday cards I’m looking into, let me know what you think. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;You all know I had to have a penguin card option, come on now!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now go check out the options for yourself and tell me if you find others you like better and get some ideas for yourself. While there are 50 days until Christmas, if you’re a perfectionist (which I am not by any means so ya’ll shouldn’t expect your cards on time), you should have your Christmas cards out the day after Thanksgiving which means you really only have 22 days! Twenty-two!! AHHHHH. Now you can freak out and stress too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Go look for yourself at the great cards they have to offer:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards"&gt;http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/"&gt;http://www.shutterfly.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;And if you’re thinking of a cute Christmas idea, they do great picture calendars you should look into.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Now run get started, only 22 days!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-4012549039398182046?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lfTTyk0TyhqbvIqunvyAHpq3AzQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lfTTyk0TyhqbvIqunvyAHpq3AzQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lfTTyk0TyhqbvIqunvyAHpq3AzQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lfTTyk0TyhqbvIqunvyAHpq3AzQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/cC2_BDzvXBY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/4012549039398182046/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/11/fa-la-la-la-laits-holiday-cards-time.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/4012549039398182046?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/4012549039398182046?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/cC2_BDzvXBY/fa-la-la-la-laits-holiday-cards-time.html" title="Fa la la la la....it's holiday cards time again!" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/11/fa-la-la-la-laits-holiday-cards-time.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cCRX87fyp7ImA9Wx5bFkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-2313915116369995613</id><published>2010-11-01T08:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T08:37:44.107-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-01T08:37:44.107-04:00</app:edited><title>Awww...oOoOoOo...Ahhhh</title><content type="html">Awwww! Our own little Charlie Brown. I can see how parents get exhausted trick or treating. There were 2 nights of it since some places like our neighborhood do Saturday night and some places like my parent's neighborhood do Sunday night. Wowza. Derek loved it all though and soaked up his share of people watching and suckers. Playing in a pumpkin this year, not so much. He hated that with unwavering passion and every part of his being. I might as well start saving up for that therapy session.&lt;br /&gt;
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Gussy now has Christmas stockings. I was loving everything on her &lt;a href="http://www.maggiewhitley.com/2010/11/holiday-gift-guide-day-1/"&gt;homemade holiday gift guide&lt;/a&gt; today and then I just keeled over after I saw her stockings!! If this is day one, I might not be able to make it through all three days!&lt;br /&gt;
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{photo courtesy of www.maggiewhitley.com}&lt;br /&gt;
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It's November 1st. There are &lt;b&gt;53 &lt;/b&gt;days til Christmas ya'll!! AHHHHHH! &lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
{photo courtesy of Shanty2Chic}&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-2313915116369995613?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j3CEj1BAxbTN9MbpLkstEeXZSqA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/j3CEj1BAxbTN9MbpLkstEeXZSqA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/X8yuu74lH7o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/2313915116369995613/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/11/awwwoooooooahhhh.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2313915116369995613?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2313915116369995613?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/X8yuu74lH7o/awwwoooooooahhhh.html" title="Awww...oOoOoOo...Ahhhh" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TM6xhp-U8UI/AAAAAAAAB1w/KtBKAQ2l9W0/s72-c/008.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/11/awwwoooooooahhhh.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cHRHk5fyp7ImA9Wx5XGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-2484179713909181276</id><published>2010-09-20T08:05:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T08:17:15.727-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-20T08:17:15.727-04:00</app:edited><title>The thoughts of the pregnant woman</title><content type="html">Soon after discovering I was pregnant with Derek, I found &lt;a href="http://www.pregnantchicken.com/"&gt;Pregnant Chicken&lt;/a&gt;. This blog is hilarious, insightful, genius, and did I mention hilarious. I never leave a post without laughing.&lt;br /&gt;
This one took the cake. There are so many things that are said to pregnant women because for some unknown reason whenever someone sees a baby bump, all filters are automatically shut down. I never understood this. It's worse when someone sees a faux bump like &lt;a href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-been-while-hasnt-it.html"&gt;this time&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
Here's some insight into what that pregnant woman you're gawking at who's downing that pumpkin spice latte is thinking. Just a hint - stop staring and let me abuse my fetus if I choose and drink my allotted 250 mg of caffeine for the day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;You can find the whole post &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pregnantchicken.com/pregnant-chicken-blog/2010/9/16/things-i-wanted-to-say-while-pregnant.html" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Thank you. I'm glowing because I just violently vomited in your bathroom."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
People  used to tell me that I was "glowing" when I was pregnant and I was too  embarrassed to tell them it was due to my near-constant throwing up.&amp;nbsp; At  work, in the car, at the house in a variety of locations, at the  preschool, even one particularly memorable time at &lt;a href="http://www.rantsfrommommyland.com/2010/03/public-display-of-morning-sickness.html"&gt;Five Guys&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;  By the end of my third pregnancy, my entire family could have cared  less if I got up from the dinner table to hurl in the kitchen sink.&amp;nbsp;  They'd be all: "Can you grab the salt shaker while you're in there?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"I  can see that you're wondering if I'm fat or pregnant.&amp;nbsp; Well, I'm not  going to tell you because you did such a bad job hiding the confused  look on your face, jackhole."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="full-image-float-right ssNonEditable"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I  have done it myself, asked someone if they're pregnant and it turns out  they were not.&amp;nbsp; I felt like an ass hat but learned a valuable lesson.&amp;nbsp;  The next lesson is don't stare intently at a woman's larger-than-normal  belly with a confused look on your face because the thoughts running  through your brain are fairly obvious.&amp;nbsp; In fact, it's pretty much the  same thing as asking, "Are you knocked up again or what?" &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"I  am allowed to have 250 mg of caffeine per day.&amp;nbsp; If you give me one more  dirty look for buying this latte, skinny whore in the black skirt, I  will karate punch you in your damn neck."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
People  have to right to judge an obviously pregnant woman in public if she is  doing three things: smoking a cigarette, drinking directly from the  bottle of Jack Daniels or committing a violent act that could land her  in jail.&amp;nbsp; Actually... Jail might provide her with some much needed peace  and quiet, as well as break from her children and the mountain of  laundry that needs folding - so really there are only two reasons to  judge a pregnant woman.&amp;nbsp; If she is having a cup of coffee, could you not  treat her like she's committing child abuse?&amp;nbsp; She is not and you need  to mind your own beeswax, Judgey McJudgerson.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
"I see  you over there, trying to get next to me so you can put your hands on my  enormous stomach.&amp;nbsp; If you touch my belly I will start screaming so loud  that you will fall down and dogs from all over down will come running  to your prone form.&amp;nbsp; And I will bray with laughter as they pee on you."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This  is a pregnancy classic.&amp;nbsp; Random people trying to put their hands on  you.&amp;nbsp; No no no.&amp;nbsp; If I see someone with a peculiarly bulbous forehead,  would it be appropriate for me to walk over to them and cup my hand on  their face?&amp;nbsp; It would not.&amp;nbsp; Would it be OK for me to pet the head of a  stranger with particularly shiny hair? No, of course not.&amp;nbsp; You shouldn't  even pet a dog without asking first.&amp;nbsp; Use your damn manners, people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"Am I pregnant with twins?&amp;nbsp; No.&amp;nbsp; I'm  so huge? Am I really? Is this you being nice?&amp;nbsp; Because I can be nice,  too.&amp;nbsp; I hate your ass face."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Are you really so  amazed by my pregnant belly that you have lost your mind completely?  What would make you say this to someone?&amp;nbsp; Is that supposed to make them  feel good?&amp;nbsp; It's much more a reflection of your insensitivity than the  actual size of my mid-section.&amp;nbsp; If some poor woman looks like she just  swallowed a watermelon, what is served by saying: "My heavens! You look  like you swallowed a watermelon!" No no no. You say: "Please sit down.&amp;nbsp;  May I get you a cool beverage and a Thai spring roll?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"You  know what, older-lady-at-the-grocery-store, I am not having this baby  any minute now.&amp;nbsp; I am having this baby in 8 weeks.&amp;nbsp; OK?&amp;nbsp; You smell like  Vicks Vapo-Rub and cats, and I want to move away from you before I throw  up on your padded nylon ankle boots."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This was  another one that drove me crazy.&amp;nbsp; By the time you're on pregnancy 2+,  you look pregnant at about 15 minutes.&amp;nbsp; You can go ahead and put all  your non-maternity pants into one of those big blue Rubbermaid bins or  one of the vacuum sealed plastic hoo-haws until your baby is at least 4  months old.&amp;nbsp; Your boobs and your bump are out and proud and there's  nothing you can do about it.&amp;nbsp; So when someone says something like that  to you...&amp;nbsp; Just smile and try not to harm them. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"You  know what? I'm growing a person.&amp;nbsp; If I want to eat this Big Mac and  then eat another you will have nothing to say about it.&amp;nbsp; As a matter of  fact, if you try and keep and keep me from my Big Mac and his  step-brother, the refreshing and delicious fountain Coke, I will turn  into the Incredible Hulk except with pregnancy hormones, and I will rip  off the arms you used to steal my cheeseburger."&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While  pregnant, I had both food aversions and food cravings.&amp;nbsp; Mostly it was  aversions - everything made me sick.&amp;nbsp; In fact, though I am not a small  person, I did not gain more than 25 pounds during any of my three  pregnancies.&amp;nbsp; Because pretty much everything edible smelled awful to  me.&amp;nbsp; You know what didn't make me sick?&amp;nbsp; McDonalds.&amp;nbsp; I might only eat  one thing each day that I could keep down and with my son Hawk - that  was usually a Big Mac.&amp;nbsp; But people don't think you're awesome when you  eat McDonalds every day instead of organic non-fat cruelty-free chicken  wraps from the Whole Foods take-out counter.&amp;nbsp; But you know what?&amp;nbsp; You  eat what you can eat.&amp;nbsp; And everyone else can go suck it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"What. Did. You. Just. Say. To. Me?&amp;nbsp; That you can barely tell that I'm pregnant?&amp;nbsp; What the HELL does that even mean?"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I  never understood this one.&amp;nbsp; Is this supposed to be a compliment? The  pregnancy equivalent of saying "you look thin".&amp;nbsp; Are you saying I'm  normally fat and bulgy in the middle? Or are you saying that I'm  measuring small for my gestational age and there's some sort of  heretofor unsuspected problem with my unborn child?&amp;nbsp; What are you - a  doctor? The creepy neighbor lady from Rosemary's Baby? No? Then shut the  hell up and if you want to do something useful, go get me a fountain  coke or a large sweet tea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;"I could understand if you  couldn't take your eyes off my belly, but the jugs you're staring at  aren't even mine anymore.&amp;nbsp; They're like two ginormous, bloated, scalding  hot water bottles that cause me constant back pain.&amp;nbsp; How's that for  sexy?" &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class="full-image-float-right ssNonEditable"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Just  because they're bigger and they're meant to feed a baby, doesn't mean  its OK for you to stare at them.&amp;nbsp; They came to life when I was about 8  weeks pregnant and now these new semi-sentient life forms are attached  to my chest and driving me crazy.&amp;nbsp; Look at my eyes or look at the  belly.&amp;nbsp; The demilitarized zone in between will get you popped in the  mouth with my handbag.&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-2484179713909181276?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LWRW2RSNIgUI4PLld6NITC0LPU8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/LWRW2RSNIgUI4PLld6NITC0LPU8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/yMXo9jX3EUQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/2484179713909181276/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/09/thoughts-of-pregnant-woman.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2484179713909181276?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2484179713909181276?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/yMXo9jX3EUQ/thoughts-of-pregnant-woman.html" title="The thoughts of the pregnant woman" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/09/thoughts-of-pregnant-woman.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cDQnk9fCp7ImA9Wx5XF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-3049936466758780846</id><published>2010-09-17T12:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T12:31:13.764-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-17T12:31:13.764-04:00</app:edited><title>Lot's salt shaker</title><content type="html">I follow &lt;a href="http://mommara.blogspot.com/2010/09/run-dont-walk.html"&gt;Ra's blog&lt;/a&gt; and while I rarely comment, (because I'm a slacker) I love her posts. We recently picked up some clothes from her and I can't wait until winter when Derek can wear them, especially the shoes! &lt;br /&gt;
She was inspired by &lt;a href="http://audreycaroline.blogspot.com/2010/09/pillar.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; by Angie Smith and after reading it, I don't know how anyone wouldn't be inspired. Go read the post, you won't regret it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"I don't know what you are walking away from tonight, but as I have been  praying about what to write the Lord has put this message on my heart so  clearly that I had to share it. I want you to know I am praying for you  as I write-asking the Lord to remind you tonight that there is a reason  you have left that life behind.&lt;br /&gt;
It has been swallowed by grace, friend. And you need not miss what He  has for you by believing there is something worth going back for. &lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Leave it be&lt;/b&gt;.  The Lord has told you where to go and it's time to walk. Eyes straight  ahead, tangled in the spectacular love of a Savior Who wants nothing  less for you than the summit. And as you stare at what might have been,  you are immobilized, unable to bring Him the glory He deserves. And  also, He might make you salt. Just saying."&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm awful about this. I tend to look back at the past and think what could have been. What if we could have sold our house? What if Christopher would have loved his police job? What if we had more money? What if Derek didn't have his protein allergy? What if I didn't have a crazy boss? What if I worked closer to home? The list goes on and on. I &lt;i&gt;have &lt;/i&gt;to stop.&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt; We all do&lt;/i&gt;. We are where we are for a reason. We might not know that reason right now, but that doesn't change the fact that we are there. Love this moment, cherish it, wrap your arms around it and be thankful that you have it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Being in this moment is a lot better than being a salt shaker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-3049936466758780846?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EfIhzBBafa-bL4vw74cV_YphZNc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EfIhzBBafa-bL4vw74cV_YphZNc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/kC2TZwcwoSE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/3049936466758780846/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/09/lots-salt-shaker.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/3049936466758780846?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/3049936466758780846?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/kC2TZwcwoSE/lots-salt-shaker.html" title="Lot's salt shaker" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/09/lots-salt-shaker.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMESHs5fSp7ImA9Wx5XE0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-1171648215066052145</id><published>2010-09-13T10:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T10:16:49.525-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-13T10:16:49.525-04:00</app:edited><title>I won a prize!!</title><content type="html">Life has been pretty hectic lately, hence the lack of blogging. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A few weeks ago though, whenever Jess over at &lt;a href="http://comewhatmaycome.blogspot.com/"&gt;Taking It One Step at a Time&lt;/a&gt; was revamping her blog, she gave away a slew of prizes. For the first time ever, I won a prize from &lt;a href="http://www.tommeetippee.us/tableware.html"&gt;Tommee Tippee&lt;/a&gt;!! I was so ecstatic! There was some mix-up with the vendor and they even threw in some extra freebies. Score!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The initial drawing was for a set of Tommee Tippee Explora Weaning  Bowls. In the end they sent me a set of the Weaning Bowls, a set of  Truly Spill Proof Sippy Cups, and an Easi-mat. We love it all!&lt;br /&gt;
You  can easily place the weaning bowls onto the easi-mat and it holds it in  place. This is great for Derek as right now his favorite thing is to  throw anything on the table onto the floor. The cups really are spill  proof and have lived up to being thrown without a spill. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thanks Jess!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f-RrRfprb0nVkHANX1laFHH2gRY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/f-RrRfprb0nVkHANX1laFHH2gRY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/Lc7brmEdLAg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/1171648215066052145/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-won-prize.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/1171648215066052145?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/1171648215066052145?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/Lc7brmEdLAg/i-won-prize.html" title="I won a prize!!" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TI4xM5NrTbI/AAAAAAAAB1U/XauM__CuTfQ/s72-c/bowl.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-won-prize.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04EQ3szeyp7ImA9Wx5QEks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-6730055788965804024</id><published>2010-08-31T08:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T10:45:02.583-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-31T10:45:02.583-04:00</app:edited><title>Party in our crib</title><content type="html">This past weekend was full of recuperation from the crazy sinus sickness that had taken over Derek and myself. Sunday was spent sleeping in, watching tv, napping, eating, oh and more sleeping. So of course when bedtime rolled around neither the mister or myself was the least bit tired. We decided to catch up on Big Brother and watch the Emmy's. BIG mistake. We went to sleep about 11 and when the alarm clock went off at 5, I knew for sure there had to be some error with Chris's phone. Wrong. Time to rise and shine. We make it through the day and decide it's going to be an early night. We're all in bed by 8:30 and ready to get some much needed sleep. Sounds blissful, right? Wrong. Again.&lt;br /&gt;
Derek decided it was the night to party in the crib. At ONE AM folks. Granted, by that time I'd probably slept almost as much as the night before by that point, but ya'll it didn't feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;
After stumbling into the kitchen and making his milk, I pick up child who is screaming like the boogie monster was giving him the stink eye, and attempt to feed him and rock him back to sleep. Attempt being the key word. He decided 4 sips into his milk that it was absolutely evil and started flailing around like a fish out of water. I put it away and rock him to sleep. I attempt to put him in his bed. Attempt fail. Again. As soon as I start putting him in his bed, he's screaming bloody murder again and wide awake. I pick him back up, rinse and repeat. Once he's asleep in my arms, I attempt to put him in his bed. Attempt fail. Round 3. Sensing the pattern? This time he's wide awake sitting in his crib just looking at me like I'm the nut job. He starts making his "hungry" face. Lovely. Since I'm wide awake at this point too I feed him some food and put him down to put it away. He starts playing like it's the normal thing to do at TWO AM.&lt;br /&gt;
This is when I win mother of the year. Since he is in heaven playing with his toys on the floor, I screw it and put them with him in his crib. All of a sudden silence. The angels start singing. Then I go to bed. Parenting fail for most everyone else. But for me in my sleep deprived state, it was the perfect solution. He's safe in his crib and happy as a clam. I can hear him on the monitor should the boogie man resurface.&lt;br /&gt;
Now I just count the minutes until early bedtime, yet again, and pray there isn't another party in our crib tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-6730055788965804024?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M3U8w2e_gTrQ5xMTsDA2XfF6CIU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/M3U8w2e_gTrQ5xMTsDA2XfF6CIU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/z1UuhaOWM8Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/6730055788965804024/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/party-in-crib.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6730055788965804024?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6730055788965804024?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/z1UuhaOWM8Y/party-in-crib.html" title="Party in our crib" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/party-in-crib.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMGSXw-eCp7ImA9Wx5XF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-7818218379416747602</id><published>2010-08-21T08:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T15:07:08.250-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-17T15:07:08.250-04:00</app:edited><title>Childhood Cancer Awareness Month</title><content type="html">September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Cancer is a horrible diagnosis for anyone, much less an innocent child. There aren't many people that haven't in some way been effected by cancer. Unfortunately, most of us have been touched by this disease and my heart goes out to those still fighting.&lt;br /&gt;
Every day 46 children are diagnosed with cancer. Every single day. Here's something we can do to make it a little easier for children who are diagnosed. &lt;a href="http://www.gabesmyheart.com/chemo_duck_story.html"&gt;Gabe's Chemo Duck&lt;/a&gt; donates Chemo Ducks as a therapy tool to help them understand cancer treatment.&lt;br /&gt;
Reach out and &lt;a href="http://www.gabesmyheart.com/adopt_a_duck.html"&gt;sponsor&lt;/a&gt; a Chemo Duck. Cancer is scary and Chemo Duck can help make it a little easier.&lt;br /&gt;
Here's a little info from the website.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;h1 style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;CHEMO DUCK STORY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Just after his first birthday, Gabe's mother, Lu Sipos, made the very  first Chemo Duck for him. She thought he could use a companion to take  to the hospital, one with whom he could share his journey back to  health. Chemo Duck turned out to be a best friend and much, much more!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;h1 style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;Together, Gabe and Chemo Duck learned all about living with cancer and  explored what cancer treatment means to a small boy and his Duck pal.   Gabe learned not to be afraid as he took loving care of his Chemo Duck  and treated him for cancer of the beak. Gabe administered a series of  aggressive beak brushings and several rounds of Play Dough Chemo to his  sick playmate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;Together, Gabe and Chemo Duck learned all about living with  cancer and explored what cancer treatment means to a small boy and his  Duck pal.  Gabe learned not to be afraid as he took loving care of his  Chemo Duck and treated him for cancer of the beak. Gabe administered a  series of aggressive beak brushings and several rounds of Play Dough  Chemo to his sick playmate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-7818218379416747602?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/icqN4ZpNa6fxt7cOlggTfIQvLaM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/icqN4ZpNa6fxt7cOlggTfIQvLaM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/0b7icEe2gYs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/7818218379416747602/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/childhood-cancer-awareness-month.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/7818218379416747602?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/7818218379416747602?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/0b7icEe2gYs/childhood-cancer-awareness-month.html" title="Childhood Cancer Awareness Month" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/childhood-cancer-awareness-month.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcMRHk5fyp7ImA9Wx5REkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-7243935734485737957</id><published>2010-08-19T16:34:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-19T16:34:45.727-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-19T16:34:45.727-04:00</app:edited><title>Thankful on Thursday</title><content type="html">This week has been so long but so short at the same time. So much so that I woke up this morning thinking it was only Wednesday because Monday lasted forever but Tuesday flew by with craziness. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are just a few things I'm grateful for today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. That I'm alive. I made a big splurge purchase that could have possibly waited but the deal was so great and I don't know if it'll happen again. I was certain the hubs was going to kill me. But I'm so excited about the purchase. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Derek's been working with his hands a lot and focusing on fine motor skills and he's shown such great improvement. Just in the short few weeks since the initial therapist visit, he's improved much more than I thought he would in such a short time. He is now taking rings off the stacker and stacking them back on. At the visit, he couldn't even grasp them to take them off. YAY! He's also picking up small puzzle pieces. Before the appointment, he couldn't even pick up large knob pieces. I'm so proud of him!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. Space heaters! Compared to the hubs outdoor work environment, I might as well work in a meat locker. They have my office so cold I wear long sleeves and 2 jackets. Today I borrowed a co-workers space heater. Ahhhhh, I can feel my toes again. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. My Mom and Mother-in-law. I am eternally grateful that circumstances worked out so they could alternately keep Derek during the week. It was as if it was meant to be. This might be coming to an end but I hope they know how much it has meant to me to know that he was in the most loving hands imaginable and he was so well taken care of. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. My "Derek flowers" that my Mom made with Derek for me for Mother's Day. It's his hands and feet cut out into "flowers" They sit on my desk and everyday remind me why I bust by butt and answer to the evil boss lady. I treasure them and they can always make me smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TG2U6cGV42I/AAAAAAAAB1E/QjIk18yJ5Bg/s1600/0819001629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TG2U6cGV42I/AAAAAAAAB1E/QjIk18yJ5Bg/s400/0819001629.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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What are you thankful for today?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-7243935734485737957?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZIoK4VoGco1VwzAgWmtqPNp-wYM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZIoK4VoGco1VwzAgWmtqPNp-wYM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/TeTxWRlCSyQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/7243935734485737957/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/thankful-on-thursday_19.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/7243935734485737957?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/7243935734485737957?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/TeTxWRlCSyQ/thankful-on-thursday_19.html" title="Thankful on Thursday" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TG2U6cGV42I/AAAAAAAAB1E/QjIk18yJ5Bg/s72-c/0819001629.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/thankful-on-thursday_19.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMGQX4-fyp7ImA9Wx5REEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-8460111722641008777</id><published>2010-08-17T08:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-17T08:17:00.057-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-17T08:17:00.057-04:00</app:edited><title>Parenting words of wisdom</title><content type="html">"A parent's only as good as their dumbest kid. If one wins a Nobel Prize but the other gets robbed by a hooker, you failed."&lt;br /&gt;
Courtesy of Shitmydadsays. The old man is so funny!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This seriously made me laugh out loud. Happy Tuesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-8460111722641008777?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mWqNtk3lmDB5G5vLFSiT6V9vLb0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mWqNtk3lmDB5G5vLFSiT6V9vLb0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mWqNtk3lmDB5G5vLFSiT6V9vLb0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/mWqNtk3lmDB5G5vLFSiT6V9vLb0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/TpTHztS_iIU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/8460111722641008777/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/parenting-words-of-wisdom.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/8460111722641008777?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/8460111722641008777?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/TpTHztS_iIU/parenting-words-of-wisdom.html" title="Parenting words of wisdom" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/parenting-words-of-wisdom.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMFSHY6eip7ImA9Wx5SGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-4667268141461538977</id><published>2010-08-16T08:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-16T08:56:59.812-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-16T08:56:59.812-04:00</app:edited><title>Our marathon Grandparent visit</title><content type="html">This weekend was filled to the brim with love, fun, and relaxation.&lt;br /&gt;
We spent the night Friday with the IL's and Derek played with toys and "chase" with everyone until he passed out. The rest of us played cards until we couldn't keep our eyes open anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
Saturday we ventured over to my parents to spend the night. Derek played with his new buddy Ian and had a great time with his new walking toy. I think he walked up and down the hallway half a dozen times at least but he loved every second. After he again passed out from pure exhaustion, the adults watched tv and played a short game of cards. Seriously, I think we're all addicted to cards, or maybe just competitive.&lt;br /&gt;
After we went home Sunday the 3 of us took a family nap time. This probably wasn't the greatest idea since both Chris and I had a hard time falling asleep. Him more so than me though. He has his sleep study consultation on Friday so we're truly hoping that we're able to resolve his sleep issues.&lt;br /&gt;
How was your weekend?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-4667268141461538977?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTfhRLIX7V4x6KvTRK1NQ_4l5AY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTfhRLIX7V4x6KvTRK1NQ_4l5AY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTfhRLIX7V4x6KvTRK1NQ_4l5AY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cTfhRLIX7V4x6KvTRK1NQ_4l5AY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/yEcAMSYWAqI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/4667268141461538977/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/our-marathon-grandparent-visit.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/4667268141461538977?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/4667268141461538977?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/yEcAMSYWAqI/our-marathon-grandparent-visit.html" title="Our marathon Grandparent visit" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/our-marathon-grandparent-visit.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEEHQ3k4eyp7ImA9Wx5SFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-530844159322728156</id><published>2010-08-11T10:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T10:23:52.733-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-11T10:23:52.733-04:00</app:edited><title>Possibly a break?</title><content type="html">Chris has a potential job that should everything go great and he get it and start, I think would be awesome. For him, for us, and for our family.&lt;br /&gt;
It would allow us to possibly commute again. I loved that time together (and the sleep! hehe)&lt;br /&gt;
It would be better pay. If anything over the past year I've learned that money doesn't = happiness. However, if he's happy at this job and the money is better, it's all win.&lt;br /&gt;
It would be Monday-Friday. This is a must and a great pro. He might have to work a Saturday every 10 weeks or so but nothing regular.&lt;br /&gt;
He wouldn't be working outside 24/7. It would involve some outside work but also a good bit of indoors time to balance it out.&lt;br /&gt;
Please say a little prayer or wish or positive vibes, anything, for us. Thanks!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-530844159322728156?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N3C2xTOkGv_MxWf6AXb1HAcLSkU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N3C2xTOkGv_MxWf6AXb1HAcLSkU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N3C2xTOkGv_MxWf6AXb1HAcLSkU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/N3C2xTOkGv_MxWf6AXb1HAcLSkU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/rLwG2uVVOr8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/530844159322728156/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/possibly-break.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/530844159322728156?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/530844159322728156?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/rLwG2uVVOr8/possibly-break.html" title="Possibly a break?" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/possibly-break.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QGQH8zfip7ImA9Wx5SE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-8145901052380668027</id><published>2010-08-09T09:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-09T09:08:41.186-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-09T09:08:41.186-04:00</app:edited><title>You know you're a mom when...</title><content type="html">You have &lt;strike&gt;baby crack&lt;/strike&gt; teething tablets, batteries, and baby fingernail clippers in the tiny side pocket of your purse. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This weekend was a brilliant mix of blissfully busy and sleeping in lazy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Saturday we spent all day from breakfast to dinner out and about. &lt;br /&gt;
First stop - The Learning Express to see about some puzzles and blocks for Derek. Big fail. But he got a cool musical toy that will help teach him a better grip that he loves. &lt;br /&gt;
Second stop - Five Guys where we thoroughly enjoyed some burgers and Derek had his first Five Guys grilled cheese. &lt;br /&gt;
Fourth stop - Abbadabbas to see about some shoes for the hubs&lt;br /&gt;
Fifth stop - We then went to visit Ikea. I thought this would be fun and we could look at mattresses, because really you guys, we need a bigger bed. I failed to think that all the colleges were starting soon and that with it being 100+ degrees outside everyone might be hitting up Ikea to decorate their dorms and avoid the heat. Holy anxiety attack waiting to happen for Momma. Crowds and I, we're not friends. I think I whizzed through that place quicker than ever before. And I love me some Ikea. It was BAD. &lt;br /&gt;
Sixth stop - Still on the hunt for small wooden blocks for Derek. Fail. But he did get some of the cutest little big boy shoes. And Momma might have shed a tear that he isn't in the baby shoe section anymore. &lt;br /&gt;
Seventh stop - Toys R Us was our last chance rodeo search for blocks for Derek. Luckily we struck gold and finally found some small squares that were in a big set of wooden blocks. &lt;br /&gt;
Eighth stop - Exhausted and starving with a side of aching feet we stopped at Olive Garden where we all engulfed salad, breadsticks, and spaghetti. Yum yum!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sunday was the exact opposite of Saturday. To recover, we fed Derek when he woke up early and the hubs and Derek went straight back to bed. I was wide awake but finally able to sleep again for about a half hour before Derek was back up. We played and watched tv and napped all day long. Grandma D and Papa came to pick up Derek to spend the night with them leaving Momma and the hubs to hit the sack early after watching Big Brother and some Sunday night football. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All in all, a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-8145901052380668027?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RXirmS0HQda5AIDOCUQ_6CSoSYQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RXirmS0HQda5AIDOCUQ_6CSoSYQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RXirmS0HQda5AIDOCUQ_6CSoSYQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/RXirmS0HQda5AIDOCUQ_6CSoSYQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/hHd5cAaOW-E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/8145901052380668027/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-know-youre-mom-when.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/8145901052380668027?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/8145901052380668027?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/hHd5cAaOW-E/you-know-youre-mom-when.html" title="You know you're a mom when..." /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/you-know-youre-mom-when.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMEQ3k5cSp7ImA9Wx5SEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-2367375082446704964</id><published>2010-08-06T11:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T11:10:02.729-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-06T11:10:02.729-04:00</app:edited><title>It figures it's Friday</title><content type="html">I think I sense a new trend starting and I'm not a fan. Every Friday for the last 3 weeks Derek has had one ailment or another that shows up out of the blue. Luckily this one started yesterday and got worse this morning. The first trip was strep throat, no fun. Second trip, allergic reaction to amoxicillin (like me) with a strawberry rash all over. This time, he has a new rash that looked like diaper rash at first (although he's never had bad diaper rash...knock on wood) but now is on his arms. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let's just hope this is the end of this trend. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm ready for a nice relaxing weekend, please please please. I want to take him to Toys R Us and then just nap, eat, and play all weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-2367375082446704964?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CuyfFuDXYZKRZ9fZaE7VLNI2aVQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CuyfFuDXYZKRZ9fZaE7VLNI2aVQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CuyfFuDXYZKRZ9fZaE7VLNI2aVQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/CuyfFuDXYZKRZ9fZaE7VLNI2aVQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/75wK7yfMVXk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/2367375082446704964/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-figures-its-friday.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2367375082446704964?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2367375082446704964?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/75wK7yfMVXk/it-figures-its-friday.html" title="It figures it's Friday" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/it-figures-its-friday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8HQns6eyp7ImA9Wx5SEEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-5521708692485917854</id><published>2010-08-05T08:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T08:53:53.513-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-05T08:53:53.513-04:00</app:edited><title>Thankful on Thursday</title><content type="html">I'm back. Work has been very hectic lately since we went through a huge audit and I was busting my butt trying to save us from failing. It wasn't an option if I wanted to keep my job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anywho, here's what I'm thankful for on this lovely Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. A lovely day off with my boys yesterday. Even going to the physical therapist with Derek was fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Chick-fil-A...nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. We have no set plans this weekend and I LOVE it. I'm so looking forward to sleeping in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
4. Seeing my baby boy's sweet face looking up at me from his crib this morning just smiling away. Even though it was 6am. I'll never tire of that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
5. I have an excuse to go shopping for toys!! Developmental/educational toys to help Derek with his fine motor skills more, but whatever, I'm excited over any excuse to shop!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What are you thankful for this Thursday?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-5521708692485917854?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYHj45Gecraiqr6ZMDxr3JkjVjQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYHj45Gecraiqr6ZMDxr3JkjVjQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYHj45Gecraiqr6ZMDxr3JkjVjQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/QYHj45Gecraiqr6ZMDxr3JkjVjQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/jZcLLmvjWGE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/5521708692485917854/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/thankful-on-thursday.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/5521708692485917854?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/5521708692485917854?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/jZcLLmvjWGE/thankful-on-thursday.html" title="Thankful on Thursday" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/08/thankful-on-thursday.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8ESXczcSp7ImA9WxFUGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-1372362828774198108</id><published>2010-06-29T08:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T08:00:08.989-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-29T08:00:08.989-04:00</app:edited><title>Destiny Ring</title><content type="html">This is a ring I love and want. Mine and Chris's "song" is God Blessed the Broken Road and this just completely matches those sentiments. It's a &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/50028135/destiny-wrapped-in-sterling-silver"&gt;Destiny&lt;/a&gt; ring.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Destiny: Some things that happen in our lives feel like destiny. We meet  certain people or go to certain places and feel like we were meant to.  This lovely ring holds tribute to those things in our lives that are  meant to be. The wires represent the many different paths we take to get  there."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This would be a great anniversary gift from my wonderful husband. Hint hint.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TCiwRAb4T6I/AAAAAAAABzw/Ob3RiLsDbGM/s1600/ring.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TCiwRAb4T6I/AAAAAAAABzw/Ob3RiLsDbGM/s320/ring.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-1372362828774198108?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-yFy15IZ2NgCB2eG8oT1LX1r_7U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-yFy15IZ2NgCB2eG8oT1LX1r_7U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-yFy15IZ2NgCB2eG8oT1LX1r_7U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-yFy15IZ2NgCB2eG8oT1LX1r_7U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/QAaHLUf9pU0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/1372362828774198108/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/06/destiny-ring.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/1372362828774198108?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/1372362828774198108?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/QAaHLUf9pU0/destiny-ring.html" title="Destiny Ring" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TCiwRAb4T6I/AAAAAAAABzw/Ob3RiLsDbGM/s72-c/ring.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/06/destiny-ring.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMHR3s4fSp7ImA9WxFUF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-6414201486808392114</id><published>2010-06-28T10:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T10:13:56.535-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-28T10:13:56.535-04:00</app:edited><title>It's been a while hasn't it</title><content type="html">Work has made blogging at work nearly impossible. With the exception of a few days where most of the office is out, like today, I can't do anything personal on the computer. PITA I tell you. It's like they expect me to work or something. ;-)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anywho, nothing much has changed. We're in a pretty nice state of happy right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Friday I took off work so that I could prepare the house for Derek's 1st birthday party on Saturday. Holy mother effing hell. I completely understand why people have parties at event centers. Albeit, our house desperately &lt;i&gt;needed&lt;/i&gt; the deep cleaning it received (our bathroom especially) but there was so much to be done to prepare. It took me back to the wedding preparation days! MIL came over and was such a huge help watching Derek and helping me clean. The party went off without a hitch. Funny story, Chris nearly burned the house down because our grill has issues and he turned it off because it was out of control and it was still burning crazy a half hour later. We had plenty of food and my mom made the cutest monkey cake that everyone loved. It was fabulous. I just can't believe my sweet baby is turning one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A not so funny story, while out shopping yesterday for a baby shower gift, I recommended some swaddling blankets (Circo brand 3 pack 42" x 42", best things EVER next to the Miracle Blanket) and one of the women asked how old Derek was. I told her he was about to be a year old. She looked at me and said "oh and is he getting company" aka knocked up. WTF. I so wish I'd thought fast enough because as we walked away I told Chris "nope, I just had too much at Olive Garden and have to poop" but apparently look knocked up. Niiiiiiiiiiiice. Reminder to self: do not ever, ever, EVER ask if a woman is expecting unless you can see the head crowning or are absolutely certain beyond the shadow of a doubt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Chris is still happy with his job, although it's outdoors and it's nearly 100 degrees everyday outside. My job is still going ok, the drive is long but Atlanta traffic sucks whether you live 10 miles away or 60. I'm just lucky to have a job right now and keep reminding myself of that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Things did get a little interesting this weekend with my Dad's side of the family but I'm trying not to think about it and stay in my blissful happy state. The IL's have a potential buyer for their house and they've agreed that if it sells they'll buy our house and we'll move. It'll give them a cheaper mortgage and allow us to get closer to my job. Win-win. We were planning to move into my parent's in-law suite in their house for a while to help with debt but now there might be a kink as the drama with my Dad's side of the family includes my brother moving home. There's just more to consider right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Holy long venting post. There's the catch up for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-6414201486808392114?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wd09xQgaMOlyv4PyurPa3BY3NPw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wd09xQgaMOlyv4PyurPa3BY3NPw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wd09xQgaMOlyv4PyurPa3BY3NPw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/wd09xQgaMOlyv4PyurPa3BY3NPw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/-Kh6eGM4cV8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/6414201486808392114/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-been-while-hasnt-it.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6414201486808392114?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6414201486808392114?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/-Kh6eGM4cV8/its-been-while-hasnt-it.html" title="It's been a while hasn't it" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-been-while-hasnt-it.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAEQXs_fCp7ImA9WxFQGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-3280802121901885053</id><published>2010-05-14T08:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T08:05:00.544-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-14T08:05:00.544-04:00</app:edited><title>Vampire Diaries eat your heart out</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-yrXME4B1I/AAAAAAAABzE/jha7UdMT_8g/s1600/IMG_0154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-yrXME4B1I/AAAAAAAABzE/jha7UdMT_8g/s400/IMG_0154.JPG" width="267" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-3280802121901885053?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yNVIrk8V1ZD2G814XIaoMmLZ23A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yNVIrk8V1ZD2G814XIaoMmLZ23A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yNVIrk8V1ZD2G814XIaoMmLZ23A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yNVIrk8V1ZD2G814XIaoMmLZ23A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/_py9ZNIcCzE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/3280802121901885053/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/vampire-diaries-eat-your-heart-out.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/3280802121901885053?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/3280802121901885053?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/_py9ZNIcCzE/vampire-diaries-eat-your-heart-out.html" title="Vampire Diaries eat your heart out" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-yrXME4B1I/AAAAAAAABzE/jha7UdMT_8g/s72-c/IMG_0154.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/vampire-diaries-eat-your-heart-out.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QHQ34zeip7ImA9WxFQF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-4766026468475371781</id><published>2010-05-13T13:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T13:22:12.082-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-13T13:22:12.082-04:00</app:edited><title>Let's talk convertible car seats</title><content type="html">Why does every single baby purchase have to have 686,344,589,315,213,715,849,642 options?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are so many items you have to purchase after having a baby, from the stroller, crib, playard, bottles, carriers, bouncy seats, exercausers, high chairs, the nipples (don't even get me started on the entire aisle of silicone, latex, slow flow, fast flow, variable flow, wide neck, standard that is not really &lt;i&gt;standard&lt;/i&gt; as it doesn't fit every bottle!!, wide touch, ventaire, COME ON PEOPLE!!) etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So when the time came to purchase a convertible car seat for Derek, I started researching the best buy. This entailed finding the safest seat for the best buck for my frugal (read cheap &amp;amp; broke) happiness. Oh my sweet Jesus, there are so many seats to choose from my eyes are crossed and I have a headache. When I went to BRU website there are already 29 different options, just within one brand of carseats. Seriously, seriously?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are so many variables, just as with the nipples.&lt;br /&gt;
- rear facing weight limit&lt;br /&gt;
- cup holders (a plus for sippy cups)&lt;br /&gt;
- latch installation availability&lt;br /&gt;
- SIP (aka side impact protection)&lt;br /&gt;
- forward facing weight limit&lt;br /&gt;
- ease of installation&lt;br /&gt;
- side handles&lt;br /&gt;
- 15+ brands to choose from!!&lt;br /&gt;
- 2+ options within each brand (Britax has 8)&lt;br /&gt;
- shut the front door, there are about several different color choices per seat&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Just to name a few!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We currently have a Britax Boulevard that I'd highly recommend to anyone however, since Britax is considered God in the convertible carseat safety world, it has a hefty price tag. I was able to get that one on clearance since the color choice was being discontinued but holy mother trucker sticker shock for full price ($309)!!! I highly recommend stalking online stores for deals.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, it'd be awesome to find a great seat at a better price. And before you start throwing the flames, I know, I know, you cannot put a price on your child's safety. I get that. Like I said, I'm just trying to get the best bang for my near non-existent buck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think I'm torn so far between just sucking it up and getting another &lt;a href="http://www.albeebaby.com/britax-boulevard-convertible-car-seat-in-moonstone.html"&gt;Britax Boulevard&lt;/a&gt; (they're on sale for $219 at AlbeeBaby) and getting the &lt;a href="http://www.walmart.com/ip/Graco-Convertible-Car-Seat-Edgemont/11016293"&gt;Graco My Ride 65&lt;/a&gt;. Both have great safety, both have high rear facing weight limits, the main difference is the Graco is $115, which is a lot nicer on my checkbook. Britax is the easiest car seat to install &lt;i&gt;ever&lt;/i&gt; however, I don't know if that's worth $100.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-4766026468475371781?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3nEijntTUYWsj5uGiT_71rfZXs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3nEijntTUYWsj5uGiT_71rfZXs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3nEijntTUYWsj5uGiT_71rfZXs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/O3nEijntTUYWsj5uGiT_71rfZXs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/UWGLvNabXv4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/4766026468475371781/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/lets-talk-convertible-car-seats.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/4766026468475371781?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/4766026468475371781?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/UWGLvNabXv4/lets-talk-convertible-car-seats.html" title="Let's talk convertible car seats" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/lets-talk-convertible-car-seats.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08MRXwzfSp7ImA9WxFQFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-6199514990041700979</id><published>2010-05-11T15:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T15:24:44.285-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-11T15:24:44.285-04:00</app:edited><title>Pssst...look up there</title><content type="html">Check out that handsome man up in my header?! I just wanna eat him up, nom nom nom!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are more pictures on &lt;a href="http://delinedoodles.blogspot.com/#"&gt;his blog&lt;/a&gt; (link also located on the right side) and I'm both too lazy and too busy to put them here as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Derek has bronchitis. Our wonderful sleeping angel has turned into a sleepy cranky coughing crawling creature that doesn't want to sleep. Ever. EVER. Again. Not for naps. Not for bedtime. This leads to Momma drinking lots of coffee after 2 nights straight of crazy interrupted sleep. He woke up a couple times last night and one time he just wanted to stand up in his crib and do nothing else. Then he decided to sit and play in there like Daddy was the crazy one acting all sleepy. Poor Daddy took night shift last night after Mommy had it Sunday night and Daddy isn't feeling good either. Enter caffeine overload and I have a serious headache. Yikes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hopefully Derek sleeps tonight. I guess this is retribution for having a wonderful sleeper from birth. It could be much.Much.MUCH worse. This I know. Thank you baby Jesus and we'll take these few days of interrupted sleep happily.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-6199514990041700979?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOj9X3br7KUR4h5mWV-JAZ7usEk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOj9X3br7KUR4h5mWV-JAZ7usEk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOj9X3br7KUR4h5mWV-JAZ7usEk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/aOj9X3br7KUR4h5mWV-JAZ7usEk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/UUa95ryK20M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/6199514990041700979/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/pssstlook-up-there.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6199514990041700979?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6199514990041700979?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/UUa95ryK20M/pssstlook-up-there.html" title="Pssst...look up there" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/pssstlook-up-there.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4DSXwzfCp7ImA9WxFQEkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-7928788029388445128</id><published>2010-05-07T10:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-07T10:52:58.284-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-07T10:52:58.284-04:00</app:edited><title>Since I'm an AW anyway</title><content type="html">I'll post these on my blog too. Everyone should marvel at the cuteness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One should know that it took the genius &lt;a href="http://www.jodylynnphoto.com/"&gt;Jody&lt;/a&gt; to get that smile from him, and lots of effort from Momma behind her as well, because Derek was not a happy baby with his teeth coming in and it was misting outside and he didn't like it. I'm so proud of the little boy in these pictures, but he'll always be my baby! Even though I'll try my hardest to be BSC and turn him into a complete and utter Momma's boy, he's definitely &lt;i&gt;my&lt;/i&gt; Momma's boy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-Qieor7ZmI/AAAAAAAABys/8-aT4Engirs/s1600/101.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-Qieor7ZmI/AAAAAAAABys/8-aT4Engirs/s400/101.jpg" width="277" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-Qiam0S-8I/AAAAAAAAByk/Miq4QxwuCuw/s1600/102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="277" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-Qiam0S-8I/AAAAAAAAByk/Miq4QxwuCuw/s400/102.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-7928788029388445128?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lrVgFpTfzHAoBZVOicsPcdgEE8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lrVgFpTfzHAoBZVOicsPcdgEE8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lrVgFpTfzHAoBZVOicsPcdgEE8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9lrVgFpTfzHAoBZVOicsPcdgEE8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/FAMI9gSY1tU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/7928788029388445128/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/since-im-aw-anyway.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/7928788029388445128?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/7928788029388445128?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/FAMI9gSY1tU/since-im-aw-anyway.html" title="Since I'm an AW anyway" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S-Qieor7ZmI/AAAAAAAABys/8-aT4Engirs/s72-c/101.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/since-im-aw-anyway.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEMSH0yeCp7ImA9WxFRGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-2945317714835358347</id><published>2010-05-04T13:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T13:38:09.390-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-04T13:38:09.390-04:00</app:edited><title>Tweet tweet</title><content type="html">To &lt;strike&gt;twitter&lt;/strike&gt;, &lt;strike&gt;twit&lt;/strike&gt;, er, tweet or not? That is the question. I'm contemplating joining twitter but not sure I want to get into the obsession that it entails.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So...should I join or run for the hills and stay in my non twitter bubble?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-2945317714835358347?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lvr_0m_4XoD4MSoZ2rPfbq7GQgs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lvr_0m_4XoD4MSoZ2rPfbq7GQgs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lvr_0m_4XoD4MSoZ2rPfbq7GQgs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/lvr_0m_4XoD4MSoZ2rPfbq7GQgs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/m3ss0llyZrM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/2945317714835358347/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/tweet-tweet.html#comment-form" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2945317714835358347?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2945317714835358347?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/m3ss0llyZrM/tweet-tweet.html" title="Tweet tweet" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/05/tweet-tweet.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8MR30zeyp7ImA9WxFRGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-2515137452296988496</id><published>2010-04-29T09:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T08:48:06.383-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-03T08:48:06.383-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pregnancy" /><title>Darn hormones!</title><content type="html">My teeth were peachy keen for the longest time, no problems just a slight overbite and a random tooth I had taken out. Then comes along the lovely hormones associated with pregnancy. Enter wisdom teeth due to hormones. Now my wisdom teeth are causing great pain and they need out, like yesterday if possible, but I can wait I guess. Either way, I'm just fine having them removed if it means getting smiles from this cute little bundle of sweetness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S9mJVEuCcKI/AAAAAAAAByc/FdI6Bx0vOiY/s1600/97-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S9mJVEuCcKI/AAAAAAAAByc/FdI6Bx0vOiY/s320/97-1.jpg" width="270" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-2515137452296988496?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-HDHsPhjslwO7wvlgTxLsbIIDc8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-HDHsPhjslwO7wvlgTxLsbIIDc8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/Axy2EF0s7Gw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/2515137452296988496/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/04/darn-hormones.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2515137452296988496?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/2515137452296988496?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/Axy2EF0s7Gw/darn-hormones.html" title="Darn hormones!" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S9mJVEuCcKI/AAAAAAAAByc/FdI6Bx0vOiY/s72-c/97-1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/04/darn-hormones.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4FRX8yfCp7ImA9WxFRGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-8362289053763125353</id><published>2010-04-27T09:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T08:48:34.194-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-03T08:48:34.194-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="infertility" /><title>Infertility Sucks</title><content type="html">National Infertility Awareness Week is this week. I bet you didn't know that infertility affects 1 in 8 people. Chances are pretty high that you know someone that is struggling with infertility. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wish I didn't know that. I wish I didn't know people, plural, who are currently suffering. I wish I didn't know first hand that those 2 pink lines can end in heartbreak instead of joy. I wish it didn't take some couples years, and sometimes decades to conceive. I wish that nobody had to experience the grief of being told to "just relax" or that "things happen for a reason". I wish adoption was not such a high cost for those that are unable to conceive their own children and leaves them with the tough decision of whether or not they will extend their family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you know someone who is experiencing infertility, just be there for them. They need your support more than anything. From the words of someone much wiser than me who has unfortunately experienced infertility first hand, don't tell them to relax. Don't minimize the problem by telling them that at least they get to sleep late or travel. Don't say there are worse that could happen. Please please don't say maybe they aren't meant to be parents. Don't play doctor, they already know the problem and the options from actual doctors who hopefully know far more than you do. Just be there for them and remember them on Mother's Day, even if they don't have any living babies, like so many Mother's out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-8362289053763125353?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0dZ_5MyFh0Ooyk1ZjXj0JEQJS8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0dZ_5MyFh0Ooyk1ZjXj0JEQJS8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0dZ_5MyFh0Ooyk1ZjXj0JEQJS8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Y0dZ_5MyFh0Ooyk1ZjXj0JEQJS8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/0-I8_a0EsBA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/8362289053763125353/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/04/infertility-sucks.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/8362289053763125353?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/8362289053763125353?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/0-I8_a0EsBA/infertility-sucks.html" title="Infertility Sucks" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/04/infertility-sucks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4NQn05fCp7ImA9WxFRGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-6302080413434779714</id><published>2010-04-19T10:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T08:49:53.324-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-03T08:49:53.324-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="renovation" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="IKEA" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthday party" /><title>I want to screen in our back porch</title><content type="html">Once it's cleaned off of course since it still has remnants of our complete master bedroom overhaul. Which isn't quite complete as we haven't purchased the king sized bed yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I'd love to spend the summer days on the porch with the fam and just enjoy it minus the bugs. Yuck. It'd be great to fence in the whole backyard afterward so Derek can play back there too once he's more mobile and running around. These are things I'd love to do before June when we host his birthday party, but alas we'll see if it's possible as I have other ideas for the indoors as well. It's going to be a bunch of busy weekends working Christopher to death. I'm imagining the grumbling now as I tell him of the IKEA bookshelves I want him to put together for the living room. Hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6934460172292044896-6302080413434779714?l=rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q-svYubv5eB2MfMSpXz47WZcj7Q/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q-svYubv5eB2MfMSpXz47WZcj7Q/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q-svYubv5eB2MfMSpXz47WZcj7Q/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/q-svYubv5eB2MfMSpXz47WZcj7Q/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~4/FCkfKk-S5xE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/feeds/6302080413434779714/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-want-to-screen-in-our-back-porch.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6302080413434779714?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6934460172292044896/posts/default/6302080413434779714?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/RachelsNutshell/~3/FCkfKk-S5xE/i-want-to-screen-in-our-back-porch.html" title="I want to screen in our back porch" /><author><name>Rachel</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16879208650274384456</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/TGQE5m9RmrI/AAAAAAAAB0k/FHYNtPCgb_4/S220/Rachel%27sNutshell.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://rachelsnutshell.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-want-to-screen-in-our-back-porch.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YASHg_fip7ImA9WxFRGEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6934460172292044896.post-6142532085655058470</id><published>2010-04-13T11:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T08:52:29.646-04:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-03T08:52:29.646-04:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="babyproofing" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="allergies" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Derek" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="birthday party" /><title>I don't think he could smile any bigger</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S8ST1oReJ9I/AAAAAAAAByM/E-m6prgT8qI/s1600/97.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_fTmT9SUYBYw/S8ST1oReJ9I/AAAAAAAAByM/E-m6prgT8qI/s320/97.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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This smile makes everything else worthwhile though. I absolutely love it and can't get enough. Derek is crawling around everywhere and we need to do a bit more baby proofing. The other night he went out of "safe area," his rubber mats in our room with all his toys and such, and as soon as he made it to the hardwoods he proceeded to drop his head. Hard. I thought he was never going to calm down. Silly boy. Yesterday he fell down while walking behind his toy and seems traumatized since he cries when you put him in front of it now. Poor thing. We have a busy few weekends ahead. We're traveling to visit family this weekend in Alabama and next weekend we're getting pro pictures taken (after I get my hair done again because it's in dire need of an update and I finish gathering our outfits) and then probably more organizing the living room Sunday. Spring has sprung and my allergies have gone on strike. They didn't affect me as quickly as they did Derek since he hasn't been able to breathe well for weeks, but in the past week I can't seem to breathe well at all and it's awful. Crazy pollen! I had some retail therapy and found some new shoes for summer, cute brown sandals. Love love love them. Can't wait for summer! Speaking of which, I need to get on the ball with planning Derek's bday since it's coming up so quickly. How did the past year pass so quickly? Where did my sweet little baby go? It's so bittersweet watching him grow up into a cute little toddler. &lt;br /&gt;
I think this might be the last time he'll be in his seat with his "babies". He's getting so big!&lt;br /&gt;
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